wassome artful attempt of his to communicate with the lady, and hadshe fallen in with it, I should have immediately informed you,the proper authorities. But whether from stupidity, dread,disinclination, a direct, definite refusal to have any dealingswith this man, the lady would not--at any rate did not--pick upthe ball, as she might have done easily when she in her turnpassed the table on her way to your presence.
"I have no doubt it was thrown there for her, and probably youwill agree with me. But it takes two to make a game of this sort,and the lady would not join. Neither on leaving the room nor onreturning would she take up the missive."
"And what became of it, then?" asked the detective in breathlessexcitement. "I have it here." M. Devaux opened the palm of hishand and displayed the scrap of paper in the hollow rolled up intoa small tight ball.
"When and how did you become possessed of it?"
"I got it only just now, when I was called in here. Before that Icould not move. I was tied to my chair, practically, and orderedstrictly not to move."
"Perfectly. Monsieur's conduct has been admirable. And now tellus--what does it contain? Have you looked at it?"
"By no means. It is just as I picked it up. Will you gentlementake it, and if you think fit, tell me what is there? Somewriting--a message of some sort, or I am greatly mistaken."
"Yes, here are words written in pencil," said the detective,unrolling the paper, which he handed on to the Judge, who read thecontents aloud--
"Be careful. Say nothing. If you betray me, you will be lost too."
A long silence followed, broken first by the Judge, who said atlast solemnly to Devaux:
"Monsieur, in the name of justice I beg to thank you most warmly.You have acted with admirable tact and judgment, and have renderedus invaluable assistance. Have you anything further to tell us?"
"No, gentlemen. That is all. And you--you have no more questionsto ask? Then I presume I may withdraw?"
Beyond doubt it had been reserved for the last witness to producefacts that constituted the very essence of the inquiry.
CHAPTER XIII
The examination was now over, and, the dispositions having beendrawn up and signed, the investigating officials remained for sometime in conference.
"It lies with those three, of course--the two women and theItalian. They are jointly, conjointly concerned, although theexact degrees of guilt cannot quite be apportioned," said thedetective.
"And all three are at large!" added the Judge.
"If you will issue warrants for arrest, M. le Juge, we can takethem--two of them at any rate--when we choose."
"That should be at once," remarked the Commissary, eager, asusual, for decisive action.
"Very well. Let us proceed in that way. Prepare the warrants," saidthe Judge, turning to his clerk. "And you," he went on, addressingM. Flocon, "dear colleague, will you see to their execution? Madameis at the Hotel Madagascar; that will be easy. The Italian Ripaldiwe shall hear of through your inspector Block. As for the maid,Hortense Petitpre, we must search for her. That too, sir, you willof course undertake?"
"I will charge myself with it, certainly. My man should be here bynow, and I will instruct him at once. Ask for him," said M. Floconto the guard whom he called in.
"The inspector is there," said the guard, pointing to the outerroom. "He has just returned."
"Returned? You mean arrived."
"No, monsieur, returned. It is Block, who left an hour or moreago."
"Block? Then something has happened--he has some specialinformation, some great news! Shall we see him, M. le Juge?"
When Block appeared, it was evident that something had gone wrongwith him. His face wore a look of hot, flurried excitement, andhis manner was one of abject, cringing self-abasement.
"What is it?" asked the little Chief, sharply. "You are alone.Where is your man?"
"Alas, monsieur! how shall I tell you? He has gone--disappeared! Ihave lost him!"
"Impossible! You cannot mean it! Gone, now, just when we most wanthim? Never!"
"It is so, unhappily."
"Idiot! _Triple_ idiot! You shall be dismissed, discharged fromthis hour. You are a disgrace to the force." M. Flocon ravedfuriously at his abashed subordinate, blaming him a little tooharshly and unfairly, forgetting that until quite recently therehad been no strong suspicion against the Italian. We are apt attimes to expect others to be intuitively possessed of knowledgethat has only come to us at a much later date.
"How was it? Explain. Of course you have been drinking. It isthat, or your great gluttony. You were beguiled into someeating-house."
"Monsieur, you shall hear the exact truth. When we started morethan an hour ago, our fiacre took the usual route, by the Quaisand along the riverside. My gentleman made himself most pleasant"
"No doubt," growled the Chief.
"Offered me an excellent cigar, and talked--not about the affair,you understand--but of Paris, the theatres, the races, Longchamps,Auteuil, the grand restaurants. He knew everything, all Paris,like his pocket. I was much surprised, but he told me his businessoften brought him here. He had been employed to follow up severalgreat Italian criminals, and had made a number of importantarrests in Paris."
"Get on, get on! come to the essential."
"Well, in the middle of the journey, when we were about the PontHenri Quatre, he said, 'Figure to yourself, my friend, that it isnow near noon, that nothing has passed my lips since beforedaylight at Laroche. What say you? Could you eat a mouthful, justa scrap on the thumb-nail? Could you?'"
"And you--greedy, gormandizing beast!--you agreed?"
"My faith, monsieur, I too was hungry. It was my regular hour.Well--at any rate, for my sins I accepted. We entered the firstrestaurant, that of the 'Reunited Friends,' you know it, perhaps,monsieur? A good house, especially noted for tripe _a la mode deCaen_." In spite of his anguish, Block smacked his fat lips atthe thought of this most succulent but very greasy dish.
"How often must I tell you to get on?"
"Forgive me, monsieur, but it is all part of my story. We hadoysters, two dozen Marennes, and a glass or two of Chablis; then agood portion of tripe, and with them a bottle, only one, monsieur,of Pontet Canet; after that a beefsteak with potatoes and a littleBurgundy, then a rum omelet."
"Great Heavens! you should be the fat man in a fair, not an agentof the Detective Bureau."
"It was all this that helped me to my destruction. He ate, thisdevilish Italian, like three, and I too, I was so hungry,--forgiveme, sir,--I did my share. But by the time we reached the cheese, afine, ripe Camembert, had our coffee, and one thimbleful of greenChartreuse, I was _plein jusqu'au bec_, gorged up to the beak."
"And what of your duty, your service, pray?"
"I did think of it, monsieur, but then, he, the Italian, was justthe same as myself. He was a colleague. I had no fear of him, nottill the very last, when he played me this evil turn. I suspectednothing when he brought out his pocketbook,--it was stuffed full,monsieur; I saw that and my confidence increased,--called for thereckoning, and paid with an Italian bank-note. The waiter lookeddoubtful at the foreign money, and went out to consult themanager. A minute after, my man got up, saying:
"'There may be some trouble about changing that bank-note. Excuseme one moment, pray.' He went out, monsieur, and piff-paff, he wasno more to be seen."
"Ah, _nigaud_ (ass), you are too foolish to live! Why did younot follow him? Why let him out of your sight?"
"But, monsieur, I was not to know, was I? I was to accompany him,not to watch him. I have done wrong, I confess. But then, who wasto tell he meant to run away?"
M. Flocon could not deny the justice of this defence. It was onlynow, at the eleventh hour, that the Italian had become inculpated,and the question of his possible anxiety to escape had never beenconsidered.
"He was so artful," went on Block in further extenuation of hisoffence. "He left everything behind. His overcoat, stick, thisbook--his own private memorandum-book seemingly--"
"Book? Han
d it me," said the Chief, and when it came into hishands he began to turn over the leaves hurriedly.
It was a small brass-bound note-book or diary, and was full ofclose writing in pencil.
"I do not understand, not more than a word here and there. It isno doubt Italian. Do you know that language, M. le Juge?"
"Not perfectly, but I can read it. Allow me."
He also turned over the pages, pausing to read a passage here andthere, and nodding his head from time to time, evidently struckwith the importance of the matter recorded.
Meanwhile, M. Flocon continued an angry conversation with hisoffending subordinate.
"You will have to find him, Block, and that