Fantômas

  XXIII. THE WRECK OF THE "LANCASTER"

  Jerome Fandor entered the room without a word. Juve closed the doorbehind him. The boy was very pale and manifestly much upset.

  "What is the matter?" said Juve.

  "Something terrible has happened," the boy answered. "I have just heardawful news: my poor father is dead!"

  "What?" Juve exclaimed sharply. "M. Etienne Rambert dead?"

  Jerome Fandor put a newspaper into the detective's hand. "Read that," hesaid, and pointed to an article on the front page with a huge head-line:"_Wreck of the 'Lancaster': 150 Lives Lost._" There were tears in hiseyes, and he had such obvious difficulty in restraining his grief, thatJuve saw that to read the article would be the speediest way to find outwhat had occurred.

  The Red Star liner _Lancaster_, plying between Caracas and Southampton,had gone down with all hands the night before, just off the Isle ofWight, and at the moment of going to press only one person was known tohave been saved. There was a good sea running, but it was by no meansrough, and the vessel was still within sight of the lighthouse andmaking for the open sea at full speed, when the lighthousemen suddenlysaw her literally blown into the air and then disappear beneath thewaves. The alarm was given immediately and boats of all kinds put off tothe scene of the disaster, but though a great deal of wreckage was stillfloating about, only one man of the crew was seen, clinging to a spar;he was picked up by the _Campbell_ and taken to hospital, where he wasinterviewed by _The Times_, without, however, being able to throw anylight upon what was an almost unprecedented catastrophe in the historyof the sea. All he could say was that the liner had just got up fullspeed and was making a perfectly normal beginning of her trip, whensuddenly a tremendous explosion occurred. He himself was engaged at themoment fastening the tarpaulins over the baggage hold, and he wasconfident that the explosion occurred among the cargo. But he could giveabsolutely no more information: the entire ship seemed to be rivenasunder, and he was thrown into the sea, stunned, and knew no more untilhe recovered consciousness and found himself aboard the _Campbell_.

  "It's quite incomprehensible," Juve muttered; "surely there can't havebeen any powder aboard? No explosives are carried on these great liners;they only take passengers and the mails." He scanned the list ofpassengers. "Etienne Rambert's name is given among the first-classpassengers, right enough," he said. "Well, it's odd!"

  Jerome Fandor heaved a profound sigh.

  "It is a fatality which I shall never get over," he said. "When you toldme the other day that you knew I was innocent, I ought to have gone tosee my father, in spite of what you said. I am sure he would havebelieved me and come to see you; then you could have convinced him, andI should not have this horrible grief of remembering that he had diedwithout learning that his son was not a bad man, but was quite deservingof his affection."

  Jerome Fandor was making a brave struggle to maintain his self-control,and Juve looked at him without concealing the real sympathy he felt forhim in his grief. He put his hand kindly on his shoulder.

  "Listen, my dear boy; odd as you may think it, you can take my word forit that there is no need for you to despair; there is nothing to provethat your father is dead; he may not have been on board."

  The boy looked up in surprise.

  "What do you mean, Juve?"

  "I don't want to say anything, my boy, except that you would be verywrong to give way to distress at present. If you have any confidence inme, you may believe me when I say that. There is nothing yet to provethat you have had this loss: and, besides, you still have your mother,who is perfectly sure to get quite well: do you understand?--_perfectlysure!_" He changed the subject abruptly. "There is one thing I shouldlike to know: what the dickens brought you here?"

  "You were the first person I thought of in my trouble," Fandor replied."Directly I read about the disaster in that paper I came to tell you atonce."

  "Yes, I quite understand that," Juve answered. "What I do not understandis how you guessed that you would find me here, in Gurn's flat."

  The question seemed to perturb the boy.

  "It--it was quite by chance," he stammered.

  "That is the kind of explanation one offers to fools," Juve retorted."By what chance did you see me come into this house? What the deuce wereyou doing in the rue Levert?" The lad showed some inclination to makefor the door, but Juve stayed him peremptorily. "Answer my question,please: how did you know I was here?"

  Driven into a corner, the boy blurted out the truth:

  "I had followed you."

  "Followed me?" Juve exclaimed. "Where from?"

  "From your rooms."

  "You mean, and you may as well own up to it at once, that you wereshadowing me."

  "Well, yes, M. Juve, it is true," Fandor confessed, all in one breath."I was shadowing you: I do every day!"

  Juve was dumbfounded.

  "Every day? And I never saw you! Gad, you are jolly clever! And may Ienquire why you have been exercising this supervision over me?"

  Jerome Fandor hung his head.

  "Forgive me," he faltered; "I have been very stupid. I thought you--Ithought you were--Fantomas!"

  The idea tickled the detective so much that he dropped back into a chairto laugh at his ease.

  "'Pon my word," he said, "you have an imagination! And what made yousuppose that I was Fantomas?"

  "M. Juve," Fandor said earnestly, "I made a vow that I would find outthe truth, and discover the scoundrel who has made such awful havoc ofmy life. But I did not know where to begin. From all you have said Irealised that Fantomas was a most extraordinarily clever man; I did notknow anyone who could be cleverer than you; and so I watched you! It wasmerely logical!"

  Far from being angry, Juve was rather flattered.

  "I am amazed by what you have just told me, my boy," he said with asmile. "In the first place your reasoning is not at all bad. Of courseit is obvious that I cannot suspect myself of being Fantomas, but Iquite admit that if I were in your place I might make the supposition,wild as it may seem. And, in the next place, you have shadowed mewithout my becoming aware of the fact, and that is very good indeed: aproof that you are uncommonly smart." He looked at the lad attentivelyfor a few moments, and then went on more gravely: "Are you satisfied nowthat your hypothesis was wrong? Or do you still suspect me?"

  "No, I don't suspect you now," Fandor declared; "not since I saw youcome into this house; Fantomas certainly would not have come to searchGurn's rooms because----"

  He stopped, and Juve, who was looking at him keenly, did not make himfinish what he was saying.

  "Shall I tell you something?" he said at last. "If you continue todisplay as much thought and initiative in the career you have chosen asyou have just displayed, you will very soon be the first newspaperdetective of the day!" He jumped up and led the boy off. "Come along:I've got to go to the Law Courts at once."

  "You've found out something fresh?"

  "I'm going to ask them to call an interesting witness in the Gurnaffair."

  * * * * *

  Rain had been falling heavily all the morning and afternoon, but withinthe last few minutes it had almost stopped. Dollon, the steward, put hishand out of the window and found that only a few drops were falling nowfrom the heavy grey sky.

  He was an invaluable servant, and a few months after the death of theMarquise de Langrune, the Baronne de Vibray had gladly offered him asituation, and a cottage on her estate at Querelles.

  He walked across the room, and called his son.

  "Jacques, would you like to come with me? I am going down to the riverto see that the sluices have been opened properly. The banks areanything but sound, and these rains will flood us out one of thesedays."

  The steward and his son went down the garden towards the stream whichformed one boundary of Mme. de Vibray's park.

  "Look, father," Jacques exclaimed, "the postman is calling us."

  The postman, a crusty but good-hearted fellow, came hurrying up
to thesteward.

  "You do make me run, M. Dollon," he complained. "I went to your housethis morning to take you a letter, but you weren't there."

  "You might have left it with anybody."

  "Excuse me!" the man retorted; "it's against the regulations: I've gotan official letter for you, and I can only give it to you yourself," andhe held out an envelope which Dollon tore open.

  "Magistrates' office?" he said enquiringly, as he glanced at the headingof the notepaper. "Who can be writing to me from the Law Courts?" Heread the letter aloud:

  "Sir: As time does not permit of a regular summons being sent to you byan usher of the court, I beg you to be so good as to come to Parisimmediately, the day after to-morrow if possible, and attend at myoffice, where your depositions are absolutely required to conclude acase in which you are interested. Please bring, without exception, allthe papers and documents entrusted to you by the Clerk of Assizes atCahors, at the conclusion of the Langrune enquiry."

  "It is signed Germain Fuselier," Dollon remarked. "I've often seen hisname in the papers. He is a very well-known magistrate, and is employedin many criminal cases." He read the letter through once more, andturned to the postman. "Will you take a glass of wine, Muller?"

  "That's a thing I never say 'no' to."

  "Well, go into the house with Jacques, and while he is attending to youI will write a reply telegram which you can take to the office for me."

  While the man was quenching his thirst Dollon wrote his reply:

  "Will leave Verrieres to-morrow evening by 7.20 train, arriving Paris 5A.M. Wire appointment at your office to me at Hotel Francs-Bourgeois,152 rue du Bac."

  He read the message over, signed it "Dollon" and considered.

  "I wonder what they can want me for? Oh, if only they have found outsomething about the Langrune affair, how glad I shall be!"