She took time for a sip of tea before replying. “He confided in a friend that he was in pursuit of the fiend. Later he wrote a letter to this friend and enclosed the address of the boarding house where he was staying. The friend grew concerned because Conrad said he wanted someone to know where he’d gone in case things went wrong. That’s when his confidant contacted me.”
“Did you know your husband had engaged a detective agency?”
She gave me a surprised look. “No. I had no idea.”
“I found an envelope. The letter was missing. But perhaps that’s how he knew his quarry was here.” Leaning across the table, I took her hand in mine and asked, “Do you know the name of the man your husband was tracking?”
“He was called Phoebus Potteiger.”
The name didn’t mean a blamed thing to me.