The knock
was repeated, louder than before. It had an authoritative sound, and
no one but Malipieri himself would have a right to knock in that way.
Volterra went to the door at once, but did not open it.
"Who is there?" he asked, through the heavy panel.
"The police," came the answer, short and sharp. "Open at once."
Volterra opened, and was confronted by a man in plain clothes, who was
accompanied by two soldiers in grey uniforms, and another man, who
looked like a cabman. On seeing a gentleman, the detective, who had
been about to enter unceremoniously, checked himself and raised his
hat, with an apology. Volterra stepped back.
"Come in," he said, "and tell me what your business is. I am the owner
of this palace, at present. I am Baron Volterra, and a Senator."
The men all became very polite at once, and entered rather sheepishly.
The cabman came in last, and Volterra shut the door.
"Who is this individual?" he asked, looking at the cabman.
"Tell your story," said the man in plain clothes, addressing the
latter.
"I am a coachman, Excellency," the man answered in a servile tone. "I
have a cab, number eight hundred and seventy-six, at the service of
your Excellency, and it was I who drove the gentleman to the hospital
yesterday afternoon."
"What gentleman?"
"The gentleman who was hurt in the house of your Excellency.
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