CHAPTER X
NEWS FROM GENEVA
The next morning, however, before Mr. Ricardo was out of his bed, M.Hanaud was announced. He came stepping gaily into the room, moreelephantinely elfish than ever.
"Send your valet away," he said. And as soon as they were alone heproduced a newspaper, which he flourished in Mr. Ricardo's face andthen dropped into his hands.
Ricardo saw staring him in the face a full description of CeliaHarland, of her appearance and her dress, of everything except hername, coupled with an intimation that a reward of four thousand francswould be paid to any one who could give information leading to thediscovery of her whereabouts to Mr. Ricardo, the Hotel Majestic,Aix-les-Bains!
Mr. Ricardo sat up in his bed with a sense of outrage.
"You have done this?" he asked.
"Yes."
"Why have you done it?" Mr. Ricardo cried.
Hanaud advanced to the bed mysteriously on the tips of his toes.
"I will tell you," he said, in his most confidential tones. "Only itmust remain a secret between you and me. I did it--because I have asense of humour."
"I hate publicity," said Mr. Ricardo acidly.
"On the other hand you have four thousand francs," protested thedetective. "Besides, what else should I do? If I name myself, the verypeople we are seeking to catch--who, you may be sure, will be the firstto read this advertisement--will know that I, the great, theincomparable Hanaud, am after them; and I do not want them to knowthat. Besides"--and he spoke now in a gentle and most seriousvoice--"why should we make life more difficult for Mlle. Celie bytelling the world that the police want her? It will be time enough forthat when she appears before the Juge d'Instruction."
Mr. Ricardo grumbled inarticulately, and read through the advertisementagain.
"Besides, your description is incomplete," he said. "There is nomention of the diamond earrings which Celia Harland was wearing whenshe went away."
"Ah! so you noticed that!" exclaimed Hanaud. "A little more experienceand I should be looking very closely to my laurels. But as for theearrings--I will tell you. Mlle. Celie was not wearing them when shewent away from the Villa Rose."
"But--but," stammered Ricardo, "the case upon the dressing-room tablewas empty."
"Still, she was not wearing them, I know," said Hanaud decisively.
"How do you know?" cried Ricardo, gazing at Hanaud with awe in hiseyes. "How could you know?"
"Because"--and Hanaud struck a majestic attitude, like a king in aplay--"because I am the captain of the ship."
Upon that Mr. Ricardo suffered a return of his ill-humour.
"I do not like to be trifled with," he remarked, with as much dignityas his ruffled hair and the bed-clothes allowed him. He looked sternlyat the newspaper, turning it over, and then he uttered a cry ofsurprise.
"But this is yesterday's paper!" he said.
"Yesterday evening's paper," Hanaud corrected.
"Printed at Geneva!"
"Printed, and published and sold at Geneva," said Hanaud.
"When did you send the advertisement in, then?"
"I wrote a letter while we were taking our luncheon," Hanaud explained."The letter was to Besnard, asking him to telegraph the advertisementat once."
"But you never said a word about it to us," Ricardo grumbled.
"No. And was I not wise?" said Hanaud, with complacency. "For you wouldhave forbidden me to use your name."
"Oh, I don't go so far as that," said Ricardo reluctantly. Hisindignation was rapidly evaporating. For there was growing up in hismind a pleasant perception that the advertisement placed him in thelimelight.
He rose from his bed.
"You will make yourself comfortable in the sitting-room while I have mybath."
"I will, indeed," replied Hanaud cheerily. "I have already ordered mymorning chocolate. I have hopes that you may have a telegram very soon.This paper was cried last night through the streets of Geneva."
Ricardo dressed for once in a way with some approach to ordinarycelerity, and joined Hanaud.
"Has nothing come?" he asked.
"No. This chocolate is very good; it is better than that which I get inmy hotel."
"Good heavens!" cried Ricardo, who was fairly twittering withexcitement. "You sit there talking about chocolate while my cup shakesin my fingers."
"Again I must remind you that you are the amateur, I the professional,my friend."
As the morning drew on, however, Hanaud's professional quietudedeserted him. He began to start at the sound of footsteps in thecorridor, to glance every other moment from the window, to eat hiscigarettes rather than to smoke them. At eleven o'clock Ricardo's valetbrought a telegram into the room. Ricardo seized it.
"Calmly, my friend," said Hanaud.
With trembling fingers Ricardo tore it open. He jumped in his chair.Speechless, he handed the telegram to Hanaud. It had been sent fromGeneva, and it ran thus:
"Expect me soon after three.--MARTHE GOBIN."
Hanaud nodded his head.
"I told you I had hopes." All his levity had gone in an instant fromhis manner. He spoke very quietly.
"I had better send for Wethermill?" asked Ricardo.
Hanaud shrugged his shoulders.
"As you like. But why raise hopes in that poor man's breast which anhour or two may dash for ever to the ground? Consider! Marthe Gobin hassomething to tell us. Think over those eight points of evidence whichyou drew up yesterday in the Villa des Fleurs, and say whether what shehas to tell us is more likely to prove Mlle. Celie's innocence than herguilt. Think well, for I will be guided by you, M. Ricardo," saidHanaud solemnly. "If you think it better that your friend should livein torture until Marthe Gobin comes, and then perhaps suffer worsetorture from the news she brings, be it so. You shall decide. If, onthe other hand, you think it will be best to leave M. Wethermill inpeace until we know her story, be it so. You shall decide."
Ricardo moved uneasily. The solemnity of Hanaud's manner impressed him.He had no wish to take the responsibility of the decision upon himself.But Hanaud sat with his eyes strangely fixed upon Ricardo, waiting forhis answer.
"Well," said Ricardo, at length, "good news will be none the worse forwaiting a few hours. Bad news will be a little the better."
"Yes," said Hanaud; "so I thought you would decide." He took up aContinental Bradshaw from a bookshelf in the room. "From Geneva shewill come through Culoz. Let us see!" He turned over the pages. "Thereis a train from Culoz which reaches Aix at seven minutes past three. Itis by that train she will come. You have a motor-car?"
"Yes."
"Very well. Will you pick me up in it at three at my hotel? We willdrive down to the station and see the arrivals by that train. It mayhelp us to get some idea of the person with whom we have to deal. Thatis always an advantage. Now I will leave you, for I have much to do.But I will look in upon M. Wethermill as I go down and tell him thatthere is as yet no news."
He took up his hat and stick, and stood for a moment staring out of thewindow. Then he roused himself from his reverie with a start.
"You look out upon Mont Revard, I see. I think M. Wethermill's viewover the garden and the town is the better one," he said, and went outof the room.
At three o'clock Ricardo called in his car, which was an open car ofhigh power, at Hanaud's hotel, and the two men went to the station.They waited outside the exit while the passengers gave up theirtickets. Amongst them a middle-aged, short woman, of a plethorictendency, attracted their notice. She was neatly but shabbily dressedin black; her gloves were darned, and she was obviously in a hurry. Asshe came out she asked a commissionaire:
"How far is it to the Hotel Majestic?"
The man told her the hotel was at the very top of the town, and the waywas steep.
"But madame can go up in the omnibus of the hotel," he suggested.
Madame, however, was in too much of a hurry. The omnibus would have towait for luggage. She hailed a closed cab and drove off inside i
t.
"Now, if we go back in the car, we shall be all ready for her when shearrives," said Hanaud.
They passed the cab, indeed, a few yards up the steep hill which leadsfrom the station. The cab was moving at a walk.
"She looks honest," said Hanaud, with a sigh of relief. "She is somegood bourgeoise anxious to earn four thousand francs."
They reached the hotel in a few minutes.
"We may need your car again the moment Marthe Gobin has gone," saidHanaud.
"It shall wait here," said Ricardo.
"No," said Hanaud; "let it wait in the little street at the back of myhotel. It will not be so noticeable there. You have petrol for a longjourney?"
Ricardo gave the order quietly to his chauffeur, and followed Hanaudinto the hotel. Through a glass window they could see Wethermillsmoking a cigar over his coffee.
"He looks as if he had not slept," said Ricardo.
Hanaud nodded sympathetically, and beckoned Ricardo past the window.
"But we are nearing the end. These two days have been for him days ofgreat trouble; one can see that very clearly. And he has done nothingto embarrass us. Men in distress are apt to be a nuisance. I amgrateful to M. Wethermill. But we are nearing the end. Who knows?Within an hour or two we may have news for him."
He spoke with great feeling, and the two men ascended the stairs toRicardo's rooms. For the second time that day Hanaud's professionalcalm deserted him. The window overlooked the main entrance to thehotel. Hanaud arranged the room, and, even while he arranged it, ranevery other second and leaned from the window to watch for the comingof the cab.
"Put the bank-notes upon the table," he said hurriedly. "They willpersuade her to tell us all that she has to tell. Yes, that will do.She is not in sight yet? No."
"She could not be. It is a long way from the station," said Ricardo,"and the whole distance is uphill."
"Yes, that is true," Hanaud replied. "We will not embarrass her bysitting round the table like a tribunal. You will sit in thatarm-chair."
Ricardo took his seat, crossed his knees, and joined the tips of hisfingers.
"So! not too judicial!" said Hanaud; "I will sit here at the table.Whatever you do, do not frighten her." Hanaud sat down in the chairwhich he had placed for himself. "Marthe Gobin shall sit opposite, withthe light upon her face. So!" And, springing up, he arranged a chairfor her. "Whatever you do, do not frighten her," he repeated. "I amnervous. So much depends upon this interview." And in a second he wasback at the window.
Ricardo did not move. He arranged in his mind the interrogatory whichwas to take place. He was to conduct it. He was the master of thesituation. All the limelight was to be his. Startling facts would cometo light elicited by his deft questions. Hanaud need not fear. He wouldnot frighten her. He would be gentle, he would be cunning. Softly anddelicately he would turn this good woman inside out, like a glove.Every artistic fibre in his body vibrated to the dramatic situation.
Suddenly Hanaud leaned out of the window.
"It comes! it comes!" he said in a quick, feverish whisper. "I can seethe cab between the shrubs of the drive."
"Let it come!" said Mr. Ricardo superbly.
Even as he sat he could hear the grating of wheels upon the drive. Hesaw Hanaud lean farther from the window and stamp impatiently upon thefloor.
"There it is at the door," he said; and for a few seconds he spoke nomore. He stood looking downwards, craning his head, with his backtowards Ricardo.
Then, with a wild and startled cry, he staggered back into the room.His face was white as wax, his eyes full of horror, his mouth open.
"What is the matter?" exclaimed Ricardo, springing to his feet.
"They are lifting her out! She doesn't move! They are lifting her out!"
For a moment he stared into Ricardo's face--paralysed by fear. Then hesprang down the stairs. Ricardo followed him.
There was confusion in the corridor. Men were running, voices werecrying questions. As they passed the window they saw Wethermill startup, aroused from his lethargy. They knew the truth before they reachedthe entrance of the hotel. A cab had driven up to the door from thestation; in the cab was an unknown woman stabbed to the heart.
"She should have come by the omnibus," Hanaud repeated and repeatedstupidly. For the moment he was off his balance.