The
proprietor of a vast and complicated establishment like the Grand
Babylon could never know a tithe of the extraordinary and queer
occurrences which happened daily under his very nose; the
atmosphere of such a caravanserai must necessarily be an
atmosphere of mystery and problems apparently inexplicable.
Nevertheless, Racksole thought that Fate was carrying things with
rather a high hand when she permitted his chef to spend the night
hours over a man's corpse in his State bedroom, this sacred
apartment which was supposed to be occupied only by individuals
of Royal Blood. Racksole would not have objected to a certain
amount of mystery, but he decidedly thought that there was a little
too much mystery here for his taste. He thought that even Felix
Babylon would have been surprised at this.
The electric chandelier in the centre of the ceiling was not lighted;
only the two lights on either side of the washstand were switched
on, and these did not sufficiently illuminate the features of the man
on the bed to enable Racksole to see them clearly. In vain the
millionaire strained his eyes; he could only make out that the
corpse was probably that of a young man. Just as he was
wondering what would be the best course of action to pursue, he
saw Rocco with a square-shaped black box in his hand. Then the
chef switched off the two electric lights, and the State bedroom
was in darkness.
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