Part + 

II + 

Paris + 

IX + 

M. le Chef de la Sûreté + 

At 9:00 a.m. next morning the Continental express moved slowly out of Charing Cross station, bearing in the corner of a first-class smoking compartment, Inspector Burnley. The glorious weather of the past few days had not held, and the sky was clouded over, giving a promise of rain. The river showed dark and gloomy as they drew over it, and the houses on the south side had resumed their normal dull and grimy appearance. A gentle breeze blew from the southwest, and Burnley, who was a bad sailor, hoped it would not be very much worse at Dover. He lit one of his strong-smelling cigars and puffed at it thoughtfully as the train ran with ever-increasing speed through the extraordinary tangle of lines south of London Bridge. + 

He was glad to be taking this journey. He liked Paris and he had not been there for four years, not indeed since the great Marcelle murder case, which attracted so much attention in both countries. M. Lefarge, the genial French detective with whom he had then collaborated, had become a real friend and he hoped to run across him again. + 

They had reached the outer suburbs and occasional fields began to replace the lines of little villas which lie closer to the city. He watched the flying objects idly for a few minutes, and then with a little sigh turned his attention to his case, as a barrister makes up his brief before going into court. + 

He considered first his object in making the journey. He had to find out who the murdered woman was, if she was murdered, though there appeared little doubt about that. He had to discover and get convicting evidence against the murderer, and lastly, he had to learn the explanation of the extraordinary business of the cask. + 

He then reviewed the data he already had, turning first to the medical report which up till then he had not had an opportunity of reading. There was first a note about Felix. That unhappy man was entirely prostrated from the shock and his life was in serious danger. + 

The Inspector had already known this, for he had gone to the ward before seven that morning in the hope of getting a statement from the sick man, only to find him semiconscious and delirious. The identity of the dead woman could not, therefore, be ascertained from him. He, Burnley, must rely on his own efforts. + 

The report then dealt with the woman. She was aged about five-and-twenty, five feet seven in height and apparently gracefully built, and weighing a little over eight stone. She had dark hair of great length and luxuriance, and eyes with long lashes and delicately pencilled brows. Her mouth was small and regular, her nose slightly retroussé and her face a true oval. She had a broad, low forehead, and her complexion appeared to have been very clear, though dark. There was no distinguishing mark on the body. + 

“Surely,” thought Burnley, “with such a description it should be easy to identify her.” + 

The report continued:⁠— + 

“There are ten marks about her neck, apparently finger marks. Of these eight are together at the back of the neck and not strongly marked. The remaining two are situated in front of the throat, close together and one on each side of the windpipe. The skin at these points is much bruised and blackened, and the pressure must therefore have been very great. + 

“It seemed clear the marks were caused by some individual standing in front of her and squeezing her throat with both hands, the thumbs on the windpipe and the fingers round the neck. From the strength necessary to produce such bruises, it looks as if this individual were a man. + 

“An autopsy revealed the fact that all the organs were sound, and there was no trace of poison or other cause of death. The conclusion is therefore unavoidable that the woman was murdered by strangulation. She appears to have been dead about a week or slightly longer.” + 

“That’s definite, anyway,” mused Burnley. “Let’s see what else we have.” + 

There was the woman’s rank in life. She was clearly well off if not rich, and probably well born. Her fingers suggested culture; they were those of the artist or musician. The wedding ring on her right hand showed that she was married and living in France. “Surely,” thought the Inspector again, “the Chief is right. It would be impossible for a woman of this kind to disappear without the knowledge of the French police. My job will be done when I have seen them.” + 

But supposing they did not know. What then? + 

There was first of all the letter to Felix. The signatory, M. Le Gautier, assuming such a man existed, should be able to give a clue. The waiters in the Toisson d’Or Café might know something. The typewriter with the defective letters was surely traceable. + 

The clothes in which the corpse was dressed suggested another line of attack. Inquiry at the leading Paris shops could hardly fail to produce information. And if not there were the rings and the diamond comb. These would surely lead to something. + 

Then there was the cask. It was a specially made one, and must surely have been used for a very special purpose. Inquiry from the firm whose label it had borne could hardly be fruitless. + 

And lastly, if all these failed, there was left advertisement. A judiciously worded notice with a reward for information of identity would almost certainly draw. Burnley felt he was well supplied with clues. Many and many a thorny problem he had solved with far less to go on. + 

He continued turning the matter over in his mind in his slow, painstaking way until a sudden plunge into a tunnel and a grinding of brakes warned him they were coming into Dover. + 

The crossing was calm and uneventful. Before they passed between the twin piers at Calais the sun had burst out, the clouds were thinning, and blue sky showing in the distance. + 

They made a good run to Paris, stopping only at Amiens, and at 5:45 precisely drew slowly into the vast, echoing vault of the Gare du Nord. Calling a taxi, the Inspector drove to a small private hotel he usually patronised in the rue Castiglione. Having secured his room, he reentered the taxi and went to the Sûreté, the Scotland Yard of Paris. + 

He inquired for M. Chauvet, sending in his letter of introduction. The Chief was in and disengaged, and after a few minutes’ delay Inspector Burnley was ushered into his presence. + 

M. Chauvet, Chef de la Sûreté, was a small, elderly man with a dark, pointed beard, gold-rimmed glasses, and an exceedingly polite manner. + 

“Sit down, Mr. Burnley,” he said in excellent English, as they shook hands. “I think we have had the pleasure of cooperating with you before?” + 

Burnley reminded him of the Marcelle murder case. + 

“Ah, of course, I remember. And now you are bringing us another of the same kind. Is it not so?” + 

“Yes, sir, and a rather puzzling one also. But I am in hopes we have enough information to clear it up quickly.” + 

“Good, I hope you have. Please let me have, in a word or two, the briefest outline, then I shall ask you to go over it again in detail.” + 

Burnley complied, explaining in half a dozen sentences the gist of the case. + 

“The circumstances are certainly singular,” said the Chief. “Let me think whom I shall put in charge of it with you. Dupont is perhaps the best man, but he is engaged on that burglary at Chartres.” He looked up a card index. “Of those disengaged, the best perhaps are Cambon, Lefarge, and Bontemps. All good men.” + 

He stretched out his hand to the desk telephone. + 

“Pardon me, sir,” said Burnley. “I don’t want to make suggestions or interfere in what is not my business, but I had the pleasure of cooperating with M. Lefarge in the Marcelle case, and if it was quite the same I should very much like to work with him again.” + 

“But excellent, monsieur. I hear you say that with much pleasure.” + 

He lifted his desk telephone, pressing one of the many buttons on its stand. + 

“Ask M. Lefarge to come here at once.” + 

In a few seconds a tall, clean-shaven, rather English looking man entered. + 

“Ah, Lefarge,” said the Chief. “Here is a friend of yours.” + 

The two detectives shook hands warmly. + 

“He has brought us another murder mystery and very interesting it sounds. Now, Mr. Burnley, perhaps you would let us hear your story in detail.” + 

The Inspector nodded, and beginning at the sending of the clerk Tom Broughton to check the consignment of wine at the Rouen steamer, he related all the strange events that had taken place, the discovery of the cask, and the suspicions aroused, the forged note, the removal of the cask, the getting rid of Harkness, the tracing and second disappearance of the cask, its ultimate recovery, its sinister contents, and finally, a list of the points which might yield clues if followed up. The two men listened intently, but without interrupting. After he had finished they sat silently in thought. + 

“In one point I do not quite follow you, Mr. Burnley,” said the Chief at last. “You appear to assume that this murdered woman was a Parisienne. But what are your reasons for that?” + 

“The cask came from Paris. That is certain, as you will see from the steamship’s documents. Then the letter to Felix purports to be from a Parisian, a M. Le Gautier, and both it and the note pinned to the body were typed on French paper. Further, the label on the cask bore the name of a Paris firm.” + 

“It does not seem to me very conclusive. The cask admittedly came from Paris, but might not Paris have been only the last stage of a longer journey? How, for example, do we know that it was not from London, or Brussels, or Berlin, in the first instance, and rebooked at Paris with the object of laying a false scent? With regard to the letter, I understand you did not see the envelope. Therefore it does not seem to be evidence. As for the French paper, Felix had been frequently in France, and he might be responsible for that. The label, again, was a re-addressed old one. Might it not therefore have been taken off some quite different package and put on the cask?” + 

“I admit the evidence is far from conclusive, though it might be said in answer to your first point about the re-addressing of the cask in Paris, that such would involve a confederate here. In any case it seemed to both our Chief and myself that Paris should be our first point of inquiry.” + 

“But yes, monsieur, in that I entirely agree. I only wished to make the point that you have no real evidence that the solution of the problem lies here.” + 

“I’m afraid we have not.” + 

“Well, to proceed. As you have suggested, the first point is to ascertain if anyone resembling the dead woman has disappeared recently. Your doctor says that she has been dead for a week or longer, but I do not think that we can confine our inquiries to that period only. She might have been kidnapped and held a prisoner for a considerable time previous to her death. I should say that it is not likely, but it may have happened.” + 

He lifted his telephone, pressing another button. + 

“Bring me the list of disappearances of persons in the Paris area during the last four weeks, or rather”⁠—he stopped and looked at the others⁠—“the disappearances in all France for the same period.” + 

In a few seconds a clerk entered with some papers. + 

“Here are all the disappearances reported during March, monsieur,” he said, “and here those for April up to the present date. I haven’t a return for the last four weeks only, but can get one out at once if you wish.” + 

“No. These are all right.” + 

The Chief examined the documents. + 

“Last month,” he said, “seven persons disappeared of whom six were women, four being in the Paris area. This month two people have disappeared, both women and both in the Paris area. That is six women in Paris in the last five weeks. Let’s see, now,” he ran his fingers down the column, “Suzanne Lemaître, aged seventeen, last seen⁠—well, it could not be she. Lucille Marquet, aged twenty⁠—no good either. All these are girls under twenty-one, except one. Here, what is this? Marie Lachaise, aged thirty-four, height 172 centimetres⁠—that is about five feet eight in English measure⁠—dark hair and eyes and clear complexion, wife of M. Henri Lachaise, the avocat, of 41 rue Tinques, Boulevarde Arago. Left home on the twenty-ninth ultimo, that is about ten days ago, at three o’clock, ostensibly for shopping. Has not been heard of since. Better take a note of that.” + 

M. Lefarge did so, and spoke for the first time. + 

“We shall try it, of course, monsieur, but I don’t expect much result. If that woman went out to shop she would hardly be wearing evening dress, as was the corpse.” + 

“Also,” said Burnley, “I think we may take it the dead woman’s name was Annette B.” + 

“Probably you are both right. Still, you had better make sure.” + 

The Chief tossed away the papers and looked at Burnley. + 

“No other disappearances have been reported, nor have we any further information here that would seem to help. I am afraid we must fall back on our other clues. Let us consider, therefore, where we should start.” + 

He paused for a few moments and then resumed. + 

“We may begin, I think, by checking the part of Felix’s statement which you, Mr. Burnley, have not yet been able to inquire into, and to do so we must interview M. Le Gautier and try to ascertain if he wrote the letter. If he admits it we will be a step farther on, if not, we must find out how far the story of the lottery and the bet is true, and whether the conversation described by Felix actually took place. In this case we must ascertain precisely who were present and overheard that conversation, and would therefore have the knowledge necessary to write that letter. If this does not give us what we want, it may be necessary to follow up each of these persons and try for our man by elimination. A part of that inquiry would be a search for the typewriter used, which, as Mr. Burnley points out, is identifiable. Simultaneously, I think we should endeavour to trace the wearing apparel and the cask. What do you think of that, gentlemen, for a rough programme?” + 

“I don’t think we could do better, sir,” returned Burnley as the Chief looked at him, while Lefarge nodded his approval. + 

“Very well, I would suggest that you and Lefarge go into the matter of the letter tomorrow. Arrange your programme as you think best for yourselves and keep me advised of how you get on. And now as to the clothes. Let me see exactly what you have.” + 

Burnley spread out the dead woman’s clothes and jewellery on a table. The Chief examined them for some minutes in silence. + 

“Better separate them into three lots,” he said at length, “the dress, the underclothes, and the trinkets. It will take three to work it properly.” He consulted his card index and picked up the telephone. + 

“Send Mme. Furnier and Mlles. Lecoq and Blaise here.” + 

In a few seconds three stylishly dressed women entered. The Chief introduced Burnley and briefly explained the case. + 

“I want you three ladies,” he said, “to take one each of these three lots of clothes and trinkets, and find the purchaser. Their quality will give you an idea of the shops to try. Get at it first thing tomorrow, and keep yourselves in constant touch with headquarters.” + 

When the women had withdrawn with the articles he turned to Burnley⁠— + 

“In an inquiry of this sort I like a report in the evenings of progress during the day. Perhaps you and Lefarge wouldn’t mind calling about nine tomorrow evening, when we shall have a further discussion. And now it is nearly eight o’clock, so you cannot do anything tonight. You, Mr. Burnley, are doubtless tired from your journey and will be glad to get to your hotel. So good night, gentlemen.” + 

The detectives bowed themselves out. After an exchange of further greetings and compliments, Lefarge said:⁠— + 

“Are you really very tired? Are you game for a short inquiry tonight?” + 

“Why, certainly. What do you propose?” + 

“This. Let us cross and get some dinner at Jules’ in the Boule Miche. It’s on the way to that address the Chief gave us. Then we could go on and see whether the body you found in the cask can be identified as that of Madame Marie Lachaise.” + 

They strolled leisurely over the Pont St. Michel and crossed the Quai into the Boulevard. When Burnley was in London he swore there was no place like that city, but in Paris he never felt so sure. Jove! he was glad to be back. And what luck to have met this good fellow Lefarge again! He felt that in the intervals of business he was going to enjoy himself. + 

They dined inexpensively but well, sitting over their cigars and liqueur coffee until the clocks struck nine. Then Lefarge made a move. + 

“I don’t like to go to this place too late,” he said. “Do you mind coming now?” + 

They took a taxi and, leaving the Luxembourg behind on the left, quickly ran the mile or so to the Boulevard Arago. M. Lachaise received them at once and they stated their melancholy business, showing the photograph of the body. The avocat took it to the light and examined it earnestly. Then he returned it with a gesture of relief. + 

“Thank God,” he said at length, “it’s not she.” + 

“The body was clothed in a light pink evening dress, with several diamond rings on the fingers and a diamond comb in the hair.” + 

“It is not she at all. My wife had no pink dress, nor did she wear a diamond comb. Besides, she left here in an out-of-door walking dress and all her evening things were in her wardrobe.” + 

“It is conclusive,” said M. Lefarge, and with thanks and compliments they took their leave. + 

“I thought that would be no good,” said Lefarge, “but we must do what the Chief says.” + 

“Of course. Besides, you never know. Look here, old man,” he added, “I am tired after all. I think, if you don’t mind, I’ll get away to the hotel.” + 

“But, of course. Whatever you feel like. Let’s stroll to the end of the Boulevard. We can get the Metro across the street at the Avenue d’Orléans.” + 

They changed at Châtelet and, having arranged to meet next morning, the Inspector took the Maillot train for Concorde, while Lefarge went in the opposite direction to his home near the Place de la Bastille. + 

X + 

Who Wrote the Letter? + 

At ten o’clock next morning Lefarge called for Burnley at the latter’s hotel in the rue Castiglione. + 

“Now for M. Alphonse Le Gautier, the wine merchant,” said the former as he hailed a taxi. + 

A short drive brought them to the rue de Vallorbes, off the Avenue Friedland, and there they discovered that the gentleman they were in search of was no myth, but a creature of real flesh and blood. He occupied a flat on the first floor of a big corner house, and the spacious approach and elegant furnishing indicated that he was a man of culture and comparative wealth. He had gone, they were told, to his office in the rue Henri Quatre, and thither the two friends followed him. He was a man of about five-and-thirty, with jet black hair and a pale, hawk-like face, and his manner was nervous and alert. + 

“We have called, monsieur,” said Lefarge, when the detectives had introduced themselves, “at the instance of M. le Chef de la Sûreté, to ask your assistance in a small inquiry we are making. We want to trace the movements of a gentleman who is perhaps not unknown to you, a M. Léon Felix, of London.” + 

“Léon Felix? Why, of course I know him. And what has he been up to?” + 

“Nothing contrary to the law, monsieur,” returned Lefarge with a smile, “or, at least, we believe not. But unfortunately, in the course of another inquiry a point has arisen which makes it necessary for us to check some statements he has made about his recent actions. It is in this we want your help.” + 

“I don’t think I can tell you much about him, but any questions you ask I’ll try to answer.” + 

“Thank you, M. Le Gautier. Not to waste your time, then, I’ll begin without further preface. When did you last meet M. Felix?” + 

“Well, it happens I can tell you that, for I had a special reason to note the date.” He referred to a small pocket diary. “It was on Sunday the 14th of March, four weeks ago next Sunday.” + 

“And what was the special reason to which you refer?” + 

“This. On that day M. Felix and I made an arrangement to purchase coupons in the Government lotteries. He handed me 500 francs as his share, and I was to add another 500 francs and put the business through. Naturally I noted the transaction in my engagement book.” + 

“Can you tell me under what circumstances this arrangement came to be made?” + 

“Certainly. It was the result of an otherwise idle conversation on the lottery system, which took place that afternoon between a number of men, of whom I was one, at the Café Toisson d’Or, in the rue Royale. At the close of the discussion I said I would try my luck. I asked Felix to join me, and he did so.” + 

“And did you purchase the bonds?” + 

“I did. I wrote enclosing a cheque that same evening.” + 

“And I hope your speculation turned out successfully?” + 

M. Le Gautier smiled. + 

“Well, I can hardly tell you that, you know. The drawing will not be made till next Thursday.” + 

“Next Thursday? Then I can only hope you will have luck. Did you write M. Felix that you had actually moved in the matter?” + 

“No, I took it, that went without saying.” + 

“So that you have not communicated with M. Felix in any way since last Sunday three weeks?” + 

“That is so.” + 

“I see. Now, another point, M. Le Gautier. Are you acquainted with a M. Dumarchez, a stockbroker, whose office is in the Boulevard Poissonière?” + 

“I am. As a matter of fact he also was present at the discussion about the lotteries.” + 

“And since that discussion you made a certain bet with him?” + 

“A bet?” M. Le Gautier looked up sharply. “I don’t understand you. I made no bet.” + 

“Do you remember having a discussion with M. Dumarchez about criminals pitting their wits against the police?” + 

“No, I recollect nothing of the kind.” + 

“Are you prepared, monsieur, to say that no such conversation took place?” + 

“Certainly, I do say it. And I should very much like to know the purport of all these questions.” + 

“I am sorry, monsieur, for troubling you with them, and I can assure you they are not idle. The matter is a serious one, though I am not at liberty to explain it fully at present. But if you will bear with me I would like to ask one or two other things. Can you let me have the names of those present at the Toisson d’Or when the conversation about the lotteries took place?” + 

M. Le Gautier remained silent for some moments. + 

“I hardly think I can,” he said at last. “You see, there was quite a fair sized group. Besides Felix, Dumarchez, and myself, I can recollect M. Henri Briant and M. Henri Boisson. I think there were others, but I cannot recall who they were.” + 

“Was a M. Daubigny one of them?” + 

“You are right. I had forgotten him. He was there.” + 

“And M. Jaques Rôget?” + 

“I’m not sure.” M. Le Gautier hesitated again. “I think so, but I’m not really sure.” + 

“Can you let me have the addresses of these gentlemen?” + 

“Some of them. M. Dumarchez lives five doors from me in the rue de Vallorbes. M. Briant lives near the end of the rue Washington, where it turns into the Champs-Élysées. The other addresses I cannot tell you offhand, but I can help you to find them in a directory.” + 

“Many thanks. Now, please excuse me for going back a moment. You gave me to understand you did not write to M. Felix on the subject of the lottery?” + 

“Yes, I said so, I think, quite clearly.” + 

“But M. Felix states the very opposite. He says he received a letter from you, dated Thursday, 1st April, that is this day week.” + 

M. Le Gautier stared. + 

“What’s that you say? He says he heard from me? There must be a mistake there, monsieur, for I did not write to him.” + 

“But he showed me the letter.” + 

“Impossible, monsieur. He could not have shown you what did not exist. Whatever letter he may have shown you was not from me. I should like to see it. Have you got it there?” + 

For answer Lefarge held out the sheet which Felix had given to Burnley during their midnight conversation at the villa of St. Malo. As M. Le Gautier read it the look of wonder on his expressive face deepened. + 

“Extraordinary!” he cried, “but here is a mystery! I never wrote, or sent, or had any knowledge of such a letter. It’s not only a forgery, but it’s a pure invention. There’s not a word of truth in that story of the bet and the cask from beginning to end. Tell me something more about it. Where did you get it?” + 

“From M. Felix himself. He gave it to Mr. Burnley here, saying it was from you.” + 

“But, good heavens!” the young man sprang to his feet and began pacing up and down the room, “I can’t understand that. Felix is a decent fellow, and he wouldn’t say it was from me if he didn’t believe it. But how could he believe it? The thing is absurd.” He paused and then continued. “You say, monsieur, that Felix said this note was from me. But what made him think so? There’s not a scrap of writing about it. It isn’t even signed. He must have known anyone could write a letter and type my name below it. And then, how could he suppose that I should write such a tissue of falsehoods.” + 

“But that is just the difficulty,” returned Lefarge. “It’s not so false as you seem to imagine. The description of the conversation about the lottery and your arrangement with Felix to purchase bonds is, by your own admission, true.” + 

“Yes, that part is, but the rest, all that about a bet and a cask, is wholly false.” + 

“But there I fear you are mistaken also, monsieur. The part about the cask is apparently true. At least the cask arrived, addressed as described, and on the day mentioned.” + 

Again the young merchant gave an exclamation of astonishment. + 

“The cask arrived?” he cried. “Then there really was a cask?” He paused again. “Well, I cannot understand it, but I can only repeat that I never wrote that letter, nor have I the slightest idea of what it is all about.” + 

“It is, of course, obvious, monsieur, as you point out, that anyone could have typed a letter ending with your name. But you will admit it is equally obvious that only a person who knew of your entering the lottery could have written it. You tell us you are not that person, and we fully accept your statement. Who else then, M. Le Gautier, had this information?” + 

“As far as that goes, anyone who was present at the discussion at the Toisson d’Or.” + 

“Quite so. Hence you will see the importance of my questions as to who these were.” + 

M. Le Gautier paced slowly up and down the room, evidently thinking deeply. + 

“I don’t know that I do,” he said at last. “Suppose everything in that letter was true. Suppose, for argument’s sake, I had written it. What then? What business of the police is it? I can’t see that the law has been broken.” + 

Lefarge smiled. + 

“That ought to be clear enough, anyway. Look at the facts. A cask arrives in London by the I. and C. boat from Rouen, labelled to a man named Felix at the certain address. Inquiries show that no one of that name lives at that address. Further, the cask is labelled ‘Statuary,’ but examination shows that it does not contain statuary, but money, sovereigns. Then a man representing himself as Felix appears, states he lives at the false address, which is untrue, says he is expecting by that boat a cask of statuary, which is also untrue, and claims the one in question. The steamer people, being naturally suspicious, will not give it up, but by a trick Felix gets hold of it, and takes it to quite another address. When questioned by the police he produces this letter to account for his actions. I do not think it surprising that we are anxious to learn who wrote the letter, and if its contents are true.” + 

“No, no, of course it is reasonable. I did not understand the sequence of events. All the same, it is the most extraordinary business I ever heard of.” + 

“It is strange, certainly. Tell me, M. Le Gautier, have you ever had any disagreement with Mr. Felix? Can you imagine him having, or thinking he had, any cause of offence against you?” + 

“Nothing of the kind.” + 

“You never gave him cause, however innocently, to feel jealousy?” + 

“Never. But why do you ask?” + 

“I was wondering whether he might not have played a trick on you, and have written the letter himself.” + 

“No, no. I’m sure it’s not that. Felix is a very straight, decent fellow. He would not do a thing like that.” + 

“Well, can you think of anyone who might be glad to give you annoyance? What about the men who were present when you discussed the lottery? Or anyone else at all?” + 

“I cannot think of a single person.” + 

“Did you tell anyone about this matter of the lottery?” + 

“No. I never mentioned it.” + 

“One other question, monsieur, and I have done. Did you at any time borrow £50 or the equivalent of French money from M. Felix?” + 

“I never borrowed from him at all.” + 

“Or do you know anyone who borrowed such a sum from him?” + 

“No one, monsieur.” + 

“Then, monsieur, allow me to express my regret for the annoyance given, and my thanks for your courteous replies to my questions.” He flashed a glance at Burnley. “If we might still further inflict ourselves on you, I should like, with your permission, to ask M. Dumarchez to join us here so that we may talk the matter over together.” + 

“An excellent idea, monsieur. Do so by all means.” + 

One of the eventualities the colleagues had discussed before starting their morning’s work was the possible denial by M. Le Gautier of any bet with M. Dumarchez. They had decided that in such a case the latter must be interrogated before a communication could reach him from Le Gautier. It was with this in view that Lefarge left his friend with the wine-merchant, while going himself to interview his neighbour. + 

As the detective reached the door of the stockbroker’s office in the Boulevard Poissonière it opened and a middle-aged gentleman with a long, fair beard emerged. + 

“Pardon, but are you M. Dumarchez?” asked Lefarge. + 

“My name, monsieur. Did you wish to see me?” + 

The detective introduced himself, and briefly stated his business. + 

“Come in, monsieur,” said the other. “I have an appointment in another part of Paris shortly, but I can give you ten minutes.” He led the way into his private room and waved his visitor to a chair. + 

“It is the matter of the bet, monsieur,” began Lefarge. “The test has failed, and the police have therefore to satisfy themselves that the cask was really sent with the object stated.” + 

M. Dumarchez stared. + 

“I do not understand,” he replied. “To what bet are you referring?” + 

“To the bet between you and M. Le Gautier. You see, M. Felix’s dealings with the cask are the result of the bet, and it must be obvious to you that confirmation of his statement is required.” + 

The stockbroker shook his head with decision as if to close the conversation. + 

“You have made some mistake, monsieur. I made no bet with M. Le Gautier and, for the rest, I have no idea what you are speaking of.” + 

“But, monsieur, M. Felix stated directly that you had bet M. Le Gautier he could not get the cask away. If that is not true, it may be serious for him.” + 

“I know nothing of any cask. What Felix are you referring to?” + 

“M. Léon Felix, of St. Malo, London.” + 

A look of interest passed over the stockbroker’s face. + 

“Léon Felix? I certainly know him. A decent fellow he is too. And you mean to say he told you I was mixed up with some matter connected with a cask?” + 

“Certainly. At least he told my colleague, Mr. Burnley, of the London police.” + 

“My dear monsieur, your colleague must be dreaming. Felix must have been speaking of someone else.” + 

“I assure you not, monsieur. There is no mistake. M. Felix states the bet arose out of a conversation on the State lotteries, which took place in the Café Toisson d’Or, three weeks ago last Sunday, at which you were present.” + 

“He is right about the conversation, anyway. I recollect that quite well, but I know nothing whatever of any bet. Certainly, I made none.” + 

“In that case, monsieur, I have to offer my apologies for having troubled you. I can see a mistake has been made. But before I leave, perhaps you would have the kindness to tell me who else were present on that occasion. Probably I should have gone to one of them.” + 

After some consideration M. Dumarchez mentioned three names, all of which Lefarge already had in his notebook. Then excusing himself on the ground of his appointment, the stockbroker hurried away, while Lefarge returned to report to Burnley and M. Le Gautier. + 

During the afternoon the colleagues called on each of the men whose names they had been given as having been present at the Café Toisson d’Or when the lottery discussion took place. M. Briant had gone to Italy, but they saw the others, and in each case the result was the same. All remembered the conversation, but none knew anything of the bet or the cask. Inquiries from the waiters at the Toisson d’Or likewise were without result. + 

“We don’t seem to get much forrader,” remarked Burnley, as the two friends sat over their coffee after dinner that evening. “I am inclined to believe that these men we have seen really don’t know anything about the cask.” + 

“I agree with you,” returned Lefarge. “At any rate it shouldn’t be difficult to test at least part of their statements. We can find out from the lottery people whether Le Gautier did purchase 1,000 francs worth of bonds on Sunday three weeks. If he did, I think we must take it that the story of the conversation in the Toisson d’Or is true, and that he and Felix did agree to go in for it jointly.” + 

“There can be no reasonable doubt of that.” + 

“Further, we can find out if the drawing takes place next Thursday. If it does, it follows that all that part of the letter about the winning of the money and the test with the cask is false. If, on the other hand, it has already been made, the letter may conceivably be true, and Le Gautier is lying. But I don’t think that likely.” + 

“Nor I. But I don’t quite agree with you about the letter. We already know the letter is false. It said £988 would be sent in the cask, whereas there was a body and £52 10s. But the question of the test is not so clear to me. The cask did come as described in the letter, bearing the false address and description, and if it was not so sent for the reason mentioned, what other reason can you suggest?” + 

“None, I admit.” + 

“Let us see, then, just what we do know about the writer of the letter. Firstly, he must have known of the conversation about the lottery, and of the arrangement made by Felix and Le Gautier to enter for it. That is to say, he must either have been present in the Toisson d’Or when it took place, or someone who was there must have repeated it to him. Secondly, he must have known all the circumstances of the sending out of the cask, at least as far as the false address and description were concerned. Thirdly, he must have had access to a rather worn typewriter, which we believe could be identified, and fourthly, he must have possessed, or been able to procure French note paper. So much is certain. We may also assume, though it has neither been proved, nor is it very important, that he could use the typewriter himself, as it is unlikely that such a letter would be done by a typist from dictation.” + 

“That’s true, and so far as I can see, the only man that fills the bill so far is Felix himself.” + 

“I don’t think it was Felix. I believe he was telling the truth all right. But we haven’t enough information yet to judge. Perhaps when we follow up the cask we shall be able to connect some of these men we saw today with it.” + 

“Possibly enough,” answered Lefarge, rising. “If we are to get to the Sûreté by nine, we had better go.” + 

“Is it your Chief’s habit to hold meetings at nine o’clock? It seems a curious time to me.” + 

“And he’s a curious man, too. First rate at his job, you know, and decent, and all that. But peculiar. He goes away in the afternoons, and comes back after dinner and works half the night. He says he gets more peace then?” + 

“I dare say he does, but it’s a rum notion for all that.” + 

M. Chauvet listened with close attention to the report of the day’s proceedings and, after Lefarge ceased speaking, sat motionless for several seconds, buried in thought. Then, like a man who arrives at a decision he spoke:⁠— + 

“The matter, so far as we have gone, seems to resolve itself into these points. First, did a conversation about the lotteries take place in the Café Toisson d’Or about four weeks ago? I think we may assume that it did. Second, did Felix and Le Gautier agree to enter, and if so, did Le Gautier send a cheque that day? Here we can get confirmation by making inquiries at the lottery offices, and I will send a man there tomorrow. Third, has the drawing taken place? This can be ascertained in the same way. Beyond that, I do not think we can go at present, and I am of opinion our next move should be to try and trace the cask. That line of inquiry may lead us back to one of these gentlemen you have seen today, or may point to someone else whom we may find was present at the Toisson d’Or. What do you think, gentlemen?” + 

“We had both arrived at the same conclusion, monsieur,” answered Lefarge. + 

“Well then, you will make inquiries about the cask tomorrow, will you? Good. I will look out for you in the evening.” + 

Having arranged eight o’clock at the Gare du Nord for the rendezvous next day, the detectives bid each other good night and went their ways. + 

XI + 

Mm. Dupierre Et Cie + 

The hands of the large clock at the Gare du Nord were pointing to three minutes before eight next morning as Inspector Burnley walked up the steps of the entrance. Lefarge was there before him and the two men greeted each other warmly. + 

“I have a police box cart here,” said Lefarge. “Give me your papers and we’ll have the cask out in a brace of shakes.” + 

Burnley handed them over and they went to the luggage bureau. Lefarge’s card had a magical effect, and in a very few minutes the sacking-covered barrel had been found and loaded on to the cart. Lefarge instructed the driver. + 

“I want that taken to a street off the rue de la Convention at Grenelle. You might start now and stop at the Grenelle end of the Pont Mirabeau. Wait there until I come for you. I suppose it will take you an hour or more?” + 

“It’ll take more than an hour and a half, monsieur,” replied the man. “It is a long way and this cart is very heavy.” + 

“Very well, just do the best you can.” + 

The man touched his cap and moved off with his load. + 

“Are we in any hurry?” asked Burnley. + 

“No, we have to kill time until he gets there. Why do you ask?” + 

“Nothing, except that if we have time enough, let’s go down directly to the river and take a boat. I always enjoy the Seine boats.” + 

“As a matter of fact so do I,” replied Lefarge. “You get the air and the motion is pleasanter and more silent than a bus. They are not so slow either when you consider the stops.” + 

They took a bus which brought them southwards through the Louvre, and, alighting at the Pont des Arts, caught a steamer going to Suresnes. The morning was fresh and exquisitely clear. The sun, immediately behind them at first, crept slowly round to the left as they followed the curve of the river. Burnley sat admiring perhaps for the fiftieth time the graceful architecture of the bridges, justly celebrated as the finest of any city in the world. He gazed with fresh interest and pleasure also on the buildings they were carried past, from the huge pile of the Louvre on the right bank to the great terrace of the Quai d’Orsay on the left, and from the Trocadero and the palaces of the Champs-Élysées back to the thin tapering shaft of the Eiffel Tower. How well he remembered a visit that he and Lefarge had paid to the restaurant on the lower stage of this latter when they lunched at the next table to Madame Marcelle, the young and attractive looking woman who had murdered her English husband by repeated doses of a slow and irritant poison. He had just turned to remind his companion of the circumstance when the latter’s voice broke in on his thoughts. + 

“I went back to the Sûreté after we parted last night. I thought it better to make sure of the cart this morning, and I also looked up our records about this firm of monumental sculptors. It seems that it is not a very large concern, and all the power is vested in the hands of M. Paul Thévenet, the managing director. It is an old establishment and apparently eminently respectable, and has a perfectly clean record so far as we are concerned.” + 

“Well, that’s so much to the good.” + 

They disembarked at the Pont Mirabeau and, crossing to the south side and finding a tolerably decent looking café, sat down at one of the little tables on the pavement behind a screen of shrubs in pots. + 

“We can see the end of the bridge from here, so we may wait comfortably until the cart appears,” said Lefarge, when he had ordered a couple of bocks. + 

They sat on in the pleasant sun, smoking and reading the morning papers. Nearly an hour passed before the cart came into view slowly crossing the bridge. Then they left their places at the café and, signing to the driver to follow, walked down the rue de la Convention, and turned into the rue Provence. Nearly opposite, a little way down the street, was the place of which they were in search. + 

Its frontage ran the whole length of the second block, and consisted partly of a rather ancient looking four-story factory or warehouse and partly of a high wall, evidently surrounding a yard. At the end of the building this wall was pierced by a gateway leading into the yard, and just inside was a door in the end wall of the building, labelled “Bureau.” + 

Having instructed the driver to wait outside the gate, they pushed open the small door and asked to see M. Thévenet on private business. After a delay of a few minutes a clerk ushered them into his room. + 

The managing director was an elderly man, small and rather wizened, with a white moustache, and a dry but courteous manner. He rose as the detectives entered, wished them good morning, and asked what he could do for them. + 

“I must apologise for not sending in my card, M. Thévenet,” began Lefarge, presenting it, “but, as the matter in question is somewhat delicate, I preferred that your staff should not know my profession.” + 

M. Thévenet bowed. + 

“This, sir,” went on Lefarge, “is my colleague, Mr. Burnley of the London police, and he is anxious for some information, if you would be so kind as to let him have it.” + 

“I will be pleased to answer any questions I can. I speak English if Mr. Burnley would prefer it.” + 

“I thank you,” said Burnley. “The matter is rather a serious one. It is briefly this. On Monday last⁠—four days ago⁠—a cask arrived in London from Paris. Some circumstances with which I need not trouble you aroused the suspicions of the police, with the result that the cask was seized and opened. In it were found, packed in sawdust, two things, firstly, £52 10s. in English gold, and secondly the body of a youngish woman, evidently of good position, and evidently murdered by being throttled by a pair of human hands.” + 

“Horrible!” ejaculated the little man. + 

“The cask was of very peculiar construction, the woodwork being at least twice as heavy as that of an ordinary wine cask and secured by strong iron bands. And, sir, the point that has brought us to you is that your firm’s name was stencilled on it after the words ‘Return to,’ and it was addressed on one of your firm’s labels.” + 

The little man sprang to his feet. + 

“Our cask? Our label?” he cried, in evident astonishment. “Do I understand you to say, sir, that the cask containing this body was sent out by us?” + 

“No, sir,” returned Burnley, “I did not say that. I simply say that it arrived bearing your name and label. I am in total ignorance of how or when the body was put in. That is what I am over from London to investigate.” + 

“But the thing is utterly incredible,” said M. Thévenet, pacing up and down the room. “No, no,” he added, with a wave of his hand as Burnley would have spoken, “I don’t mean that I doubt your word. But I cannot but feel that there must be a terrible mistake.” + 

“It is only right to add, sir,” continued Burnley, “that I did not myself see the label. But it was seen by the men of the carrying company, and especially by one of their clerks who examined it carefully after suspicion had been aroused. The label was afterwards destroyed by Felix, to whom the cask was addressed.” + 

“Felix, Felix, the name seems familiar. What was the full name and address?” + 

“M. Léon Felix, 141 West Judd Street, Tottenham Court Road, London, WC.” + 

“Ah, of course,” rejoined M. Thévenet. “There is, then, really such a man? I rather doubted it at the time, you know, for our advice card of the despatch of the cask was returned marked, ‘Not known,’ and I then looked him up in the London directory and could not find him. Of course, as far as we were concerned, we had the money and it did not matter to us.” + 

Burnley and his colleague sat up sharply. + 

“I beg your pardon, M. Thévenet,” said Burnley. “What’s that you say? At the time? At what time, if you please?” + 

“Why, when we sent out the cask. When else?” returned the director, looking keenly at his questioner. + 

“But, I don’t understand. You did send out a cask then, addressed to Felix at Tottenham Court Road?” + 

“Of course we did. We had the money, and why should we not do so?” + 

“Look here, M. Thévenet,” continued Burnley, “we are evidently talking at cross purposes. Let me first explain more fully about the label. According to our information, which we have no reason to doubt, the address space had been neatly cut out and another piece of paper pasted behind, bearing the address in question. It seemed to us therefore, that some person had received the cask from you and, having altered the label, packed the body in it and sent it on. Now we are to understand that the cask was sent out by you. Why then should the label have been altered?” + 

“I’m sure I cannot tell.” + 

“May I ask what was in the cask when it left here?” + 

“Certainly. It was a small group of statuary by a good man and rather valuable.” + 

“I’m afraid, M. Thévenet, I haven’t got the matter clear yet. It would oblige us both very much if you would be kind enough to tell us all you know about the sending out of that cask.” + 

“With pleasure.” He touched a bell and a clerk entered. + 

“Bring me,” he said, “all the papers about the sale of that group of Le Mareschal’s to M. Felix of London.” He turned again to his visitors. + 

“Perhaps I had better begin by explaining our business to you. It is in reality three businesses carried on simultaneously by one firm. First, we make plaster casts of well-known pieces. They are not valuable and sell for very little. Secondly, we make monuments, tombstones, decorative stone panels and the like for buildings, rough work, but fairly good. Lastly we trade in really fine sculpture, acting as agents between the artists and the public. We have usually a considerable number of such good pieces in our showroom. It was one of these latter, a 1,400 franc group, that was ordered by M. Felix.” + 

“Felix ordered it?” burst in Burnley, “but there, pardon me. I must not interrupt.” + 

The clerk returned at this moment and laid some papers on his principal’s desk. The latter turned them over, selected one, and handed it to Burnley. + 

“Here is his letter, you see, received by us on the morning of the 30th of March, and enclosing notes for 1,500 francs. The envelope bore the London postmark.” + 

The letter was written by hand on one side of a single sheet of paper and was as follows:⁠— + 

Gentlemen.⁠—I am anxious to purchase the group of statuary in the left-hand corner back of your Boulevard des Capucines showroom, looking from the street. The group is of three female figures, two seated and one standing. There can be no doubt about the one I mean, as it is the only such in the left of the window. + 

Please forward immediately to the above address. + 

I do not know the exact price, but understand it is about 1,500 francs. I therefore enclose notes for that sum, and if a balance remains on either side it can be adjusted by letter. + 

I may say that an unexpected call to England prevented me ordering this in person. + 

Inspector Burnley examined the letter. + 

“You will allow us to keep this in the meantime, I presume?” he asked. + 

“Certainly.” + 

“You said the money was in notes. You mean, I take it, ordinary State paper money whose source could not be traced; not any kind of cheque or draft payable through a bank?” + 

“Precisely.” + 

“Well, sir, pardon my interruption.” + 

“There is little more to add. The group was packed and despatched on the day we received the letter. Its price was, as a matter of fact, only 1,400 francs, and the balance of 100 francs was therefore enclosed with it. This was considered as safe as any other way of sending it, as the cask was insured for its full value.” + 

“The cask? You packed it then in a cask?” + 

“Yes. We make a special kind of cask in two sizes, very heavy and strong, for sending out such pieces. It is our own idea, and we are rather proud of it. We find it simpler and safer than a crate.” + 

“We have the cask in a cart outside. Perhaps, if we brought it in, you would be good enough to see if it could be identified, firstly if it is yours, and secondly, if so, if it is the particular one you sent to Felix.” + 

“Well, you see, unfortunately it was sent from our showrooms in the Boulevard des Capucines. If you have time to take it there I will instruct the manager to assist you in every way in his power. Indeed, I will go with you myself. I shall not be able to rest until the matter is cleared up.” + 

The detectives thanked him and, while Lefarge was instructing the carter, M. Thévenet procured a taxi and they drove to the Boulevard des Capucines. + 

XII + 

At the Gare St. Lazare + 

The showrooms consisted of a small but luxuriously fitted up shop, containing many objects of excellence and value. M. Thévenet introduced the manager, M. Thomas, a young and capable looking man, who invited them into his office. He did not speak English, and Lefarge carried on the conversation. + 

“These gentlemen,” said M. Thévenet, “are making some inquiries about the sale of Le Mareschal’s group to Mr. Felix of London last week. I want you to tell them all you can, Thomas.” + 

The young man bowed. + 

“With pleasure, monsieur.” + 

In a few words Lefarge put him in possession of the main facts. “Perhaps,” he continued, “if you would be kind enough to tell me all that you know, I could then ask questions on any point I did not understand.” + 

“But certainly, monsieur. There is not much to tell.” He looked up some memoranda. “On Tuesday week, the 30th of March, we had a phone from the head office saying that M. Le Mareschal’s last group, which we had on exhibition in our window, was sold. We were to send it at once to M. Léon Felix, at the London address you know. Also we were to enclose 100 francs, refund of an overpayment of the cost. This was done. The group and the money were duly packed and despatched. Everything was perfectly in order and in accordance with our usual custom. The only remarkable feature in the whole transaction was the absence of a receipt from Felix. I do not think I can recall another instance in which we were not advised of our goods’ safe arrival, and in this case it was doubly to be expected, owing to the enclosure of money. I might perhaps mention also that on that same Tuesday we had a telephone call from M. Felix, through from London, asking when and by what route we were sending the cask, to which I replied in person.” + 

The young man paused, and Lefarge asked how the group was packed. + 

“In a number A cask, our usual practice.” + 

“We have a cask coming along. It will be here presently. Could you identify it?” + 

“Possibly I or the foreman might.” + 

“Well, M. Thévenet, I do not think we can get any further till it arrives. There would just be time for déjeuner. We hope you and M. Thomas will give us the pleasure of your company.” + 

This was agreed to, and they lunched at one of the comfortable restaurants on the Boulevard. When they returned to the shop the cart was waiting. + 

“We had better have him round to the yard,” said M. Thomas. “If you will go through I will show him the way.” + 

The yard was a small open area surrounded by sheds. Into one of these the cart was backed and the cask unpacked. M. Thomas examined it. + 

“That’s certainly one of our casks,” he said. “They are our own design and, so far as I am aware, are used by no one else.” + 

“But, M. Thomas,” said Lefarge, “can you identify it in any special manner? We do not, of course, doubt what you have said, but if it could be established that this particular cask had passed through your yard it would be important. Otherwise, if you judge only by likeness to type, we cannot be sure that someone has not copied your design to try and start a false scent.” + 

“I see what you mean, but I fear I cannot certify what you want. But I’ll call the foreman and packers. Possibly some of them can help you.” + 

He went into another of the sheds, returning immediately with four men. + 

“Look at that cask, men,” he said. “Have any of you ever seen it before?” + 

The men advanced and inspected the cask minutely, looking at it from all sides. Two of them retreated, shaking their heads, but the third, an elderly man with white hair, spoke up. + 

“Yes,” he said. “I packed this cask not a fortnight ago.” + 

“How are you so certain of that?” asked Lefarge. + 

“By this, monsieur,” said the man, pointing to the broken stave. “That stave was split. I remember quite well the shape of the crack. I noticed it, and wondered if I should report it to the foreman, and then I thought it was safe enough and didn’t. But I told my mate about it. See here, Jean,” he called to the fourth man, “is that the crack I showed you some days ago, or is it only like it?” + 

The fourth man advanced and inspected it in his turn. + 

“It’s the same one,” he said confidently. “I know, because I thought that split was the shape of my hand, and so it is.” + 

He placed his hand on the adjoining stave, and there certainly was a rude resemblance in shape. + 

“I suppose neither of you men remember what you packed in it, or whom it was for?” + 

“As far as I remember,” said the third man, “it was a statue of three or four women, but I don’t remember who it was for.” + 

“It wasn’t for a man called Felix, of London?” + 

“I remember the name, but I can’t say if it was for him.” + 

“Thank you. Would you tell me how it was packed? What steadied the group?” + 

“Sawdust, monsieur, simply sawdust, carefully rammed.” + 

“Can you tell me if the railway cart took it from here, or how did it go?” + 

“No, monsieur, it was taken by one of our own motor lorries from the Grenelle works.” + 

“Did you know the driver?” + 

“Yes, monsieur, it was Jules Fouchard.” + 

“I suppose, monsieur,” Lefarge turned to the managing director, “we could interview this man Fouchard?” + 

“Why, certainly. M. Thomas will find out where he is.” + 

“Pardon, messieurs,” interposed the elderly packer, “but he’s here now. Or at least I saw him not ten minutes ago.” + 

“Good. Then try and find him, and tell him not to go away till we have seen him.” + 

In a few moments the driver was found and, having asked him to wait outside, Lefarge continued his questions to the packer. + 

“At what o’clock did the cask leave here?” + 

“About four. I had it packed and ready by two, but the lorry did not come for a couple of hours after that.” + 

“Did you see it loaded up?” + 

“I helped to load it up.” + 

“Now tell me,” continued Lefarge, “where was the cask between the time you put the group in and the arrival of the motor?” + 

“Here, monsieur, in this shed where I packed it.” + 

“And did you leave it during that time?” + 

“No, monsieur, I was here all the time.” + 

“So that⁠—please be very careful about this⁠—no one could have tampered with it in any way up till the time it left the yard?” + 

“Absolutely impossible, monsieur. It is quite out of the question.” + 

“Thank you, we are exceedingly obliged to you,” said Lefarge, slipping a couple of francs into the man’s hand as he withdrew. “Now, could I see the lorry driver?” + 

Jules Fouchard proved to be a small, energetic looking man, with sharp features and intelligent eyes. He was sure of his facts, and gave his answers clearly and without hesitation. + 

“M. Fouchard,” began Lefarge, “this gentleman and I are trying to trace the movements of one of your casks, which I am informed left here by your lorry about four o’clock on Tuesday, the thirtieth of March last. Can you recall the occasion?” + 

“Permit me to get my delivery book, monsieur.” + 

He disappeared for a moment, returning with a small, cloth-covered book. Rapidly turning over the pages, he found what he was looking for. + 

“For M. Léon Felix, 141 West Jubb Street, Tottenham Court Road, London? Yes, monsieur. It was the only cask which left here that day. I took it to the Gare St. Lazare and handed it to the railway officials. Here is their signature for it.” + 

He passed the book over and Lefarge read the name. + 

“Thank you. Who is this Jean Duval? I shall probably want to see him and would like to know where to find him.” + 

“He is a clerk in the departure passenger cloakroom.” + 

“You left here with the cask, I understand, about four o’clock?” + 

“About that, monsieur.” + 

“And what time did you arrive at the Gare St. Lazare?” + 

“Just a few minutes later. I went direct.” + 

“You didn’t stop on the way?” + 

“No, monsieur.” + 

“Well now, monsieur, please don’t answer till you have considered carefully. Was there any way in which the cask could have been tampered with between the time it was loaded up here and your handing it over to Jean Duval at the Gare St. Lazare?” + 

“None, monsieur. No one could have got on the lorry without my knowledge, much less have done anything to the cask.” + 

“And I take it from that, it would have been equally impossible to remove it entirely and substitute another?” + 

“It would have been absolutely out of the question, monsieur.” + 

After thanking and dismissing the driver, they returned to the manager’s room. + 

“The position, then, seems to be this,” said Lefarge, as they sat down. “The cask left your yard containing a group of statuary, and it arrived in London containing the dead body of a woman. The change must therefore have been effected along the route, and the evidence of the steamer people seems to narrow it down to between here and Rouen.” + 

“Why Rouen?” asked both gentlemen in a breath. + 

“Well, I should have said, perhaps, between here and the time of loading on to the steamer at Rouen wharf.” + 

“But I am afraid you are making a mistake there,” said M. Thomas; “the cask went by Havre. All our stuff does.” + 

“Pardon me, M. Thomas, for seeming to contradict you,” said Burnley, in his somewhat halting French, “but I am as certain of it as of my presence here now, however the cask may have been sent, it certainly arrived in the London Docks by the Insular and Continental Steam Navigation Company’s boat from Rouen.” + 

“But that is most mysterious,” rejoined M. Thomas. He struck a bell and a clerk appeared. + 

“Bring me the railway papers about the sending of that cask to Felix, London, on the thirtieth ultimo.” + 

“Here you are,” he said to Burnley, when the clerk returned. “Look at that. That is the receipt from the St. Lazare people for the freight on the cask between this and the address in London, per passenger train via Havre and Southampton.” + 

“Well,” said Burnley, “this gets me altogether. Tell me,” he added after a pause, “when Felix telephoned you from London asking when and by what route you were sending the cask, what did you reply?” + 

“I told him it was crossing on Tuesday night, the 30th of March, by Havre and Southampton.” + 

“We’d better go to St. Lazare,” said Lefarge. “Perhaps M. Thomas will kindly lend us that receipt?” + 

“Certainly, but you must please sign for it, as I shall want it for my audit.” + 

They parted with expressions of thanks on the part of the detectives, who promised to keep the others advised of the progress of the inquiry. + 

A taxi brought them to St. Lazare, where, at the office of the superintendent of the line, Lefarge’s card had the usual magical effect. + 

“Please be seated, gentlemen,” said the superintendent, “and let me know what I can do for you.” + 

Lefarge showed him the receipt. + 

“The matter is somewhat puzzling,” he said. “That cask, as you see, was invoiced out via Havre and Southampton on the 30th ultimo, and yet it turned up in London on Monday, the 5th instant, by the Insular and Continental Steam Navigation Company’s boat Bullfinch from Rouen. The contents of the cask when it left Messrs. Dupierre’s showroom was a group of statuary, but when it arrived at St. Katharine’s Docks⁠—well, I may tell you, monsieur, in confidence⁠—it contained the body of a woman⁠—murdered.” + 

The superintendent gave an exclamation of surprise. + 

“You see, therefore, monsieur, the necessity of our tracing the cask as privately as possible.” + 

“I certainly do. If you will wait a few minutes, gentlemen, I can get you part at least of the information you want.” + 

The few minutes had expanded into nearly an hour before the superintendent returned. + 

“Sorry to have kept you so long,” he apologised. “I find that your cask was delivered at our outward passenger cloakroom at about 4:15 p.m. on the 30th ultimo. It remained there until about 7:00 p.m., and during all this time it was under the personal supervision of one of the clerks named Duval, a most conscientious and reliable man. He states it stood in full view of his desk, and it would have been quite impossible for anyone to have tampered with it. He particularly remembers it from its peculiar shape and its weight, as well as because it was an unusual object to send by passenger train. At about 7:00 p.m. it was taken charge of by two porters and placed in the van of the 7:47 p.m. English boat train. The guard of the train was present when they put it into the van, and he should have been there till the train left. The guard is unfortunately off duty at present, but I have sent for him and will get his statement. Once the train left, the cask would simply be bound to go to Havre. If it had not done so with that insurance on it, we should have heard about it. However, I will communicate with our agent at Havre, and I should be able to get definite information in the morning.” + 

“But, my dear sir,” cried Burnley helplessly, “I know of my own knowledge that it came by long sea from Rouen. I don’t for one moment doubt your word, but there must be a mistake somewhere.” + 

“Ah,” returned the superintendent, smiling, “now I come to something that will interest you. The cask we have just spoken of was sent out on the evening of the 30th ult. But I find another cask was despatched three days later, on the 1st instant. It also was addressed to M. Felix at the same London address and sent in by Messrs. Dupierre. It was labelled via Rouen and the I. and C. Company’s boat. It went by goods train that night, and I will get our Rouen agent to try and trace it, though, as he would have had no reason to remark it, I doubt if he will be able to do so.” + 

Burnley swore. “I beg your pardon, sir, but this gets deeper and deeper. Two casks!” He groaned. + 

“At least,” said the superintendent, “it has cleared up your difficulty about how a cask that left by one route arrived by another.” + 

“It has done that, monsieur, and we are really extremely obliged for all your kindness and trouble.” + 

“If there is anything else I can do I shall be very pleased.” + 

“Thank you again. The only other point is to trace the cart that brought the second cask.” + 

“Ah,” the superintendent shook his head; “I can’t do that for you, you know.” + 

“Of course not. But perhaps you could get hold of, or put us in a position to get hold of your men who received the cask? We might get some information from them.” + 

“I shall do what I can. Now, gentlemen, if you will call any time in the morning, I shall let you have any further information I receive.” + 

The detectives, having thanked him again, bowed themselves out and, strolling up and down the vast concourse, discussed their plans. + 

“I should like to wire to London now, and also to write by tonight’s post,” said Burnley. “They’ll want to get on to tracing that second cask from Waterloo as soon as possible.” + 

“Well, the ordinary letter-boxes are clear at half-past six, but if you are late you can post in the van of the English mail at the Gare du Nord up till 9:10 p.m., so you have plenty of time for that later. What about sending your wire from here now, and then going to the Hotel Continental to look up your friend Felix?” + 

Burnley agreed, and when the telegram had been sent they took another taxi and drove to the Continental. Lefarge’s card produced immediately a polite and agreeable manager, anxious to assist. + 

“We are trying to trace a man whom we believe stayed here recently,” explained Lefarge. “His name was Léon Felix.” + 

“A rather short and slight man with a black beard and a pleasing manner?” replied the manager. “Oh, yes, I know M. Felix very well, and very pleasant I have always found him. He was here recently. I will inquire the exact dates.” + 

He disappeared for a few seconds. + 

“He was here from Saturday, the 13th of March, till Monday, the 15th. Then he returned on Friday, the 26th, and left again on the morning of Sunday, the 28th, to catch the 8:20 train for England at the Gare du Nord.” + 

The two detectives exchanged glances of surprise. + 

“Could you let me compare his signature in your register with one I have here?” asked Burnley. “I am anxious to make sure it is the same man.” + 

“Certainly,” replied the manager, leading the way. + 

The signature was the same, and, after thanking the manager, they took their departure. + 

“That’s an unexpected find,” Burnley remarked. “Felix said nothing to me about being here ten days ago.” + 

“It’s a bit suggestive, you know,” returned his companion. “We’ll have to find out what he was doing during the visit.” + 

Burnley nodded. + 

“Now for my report, anyway,” he said. + 

“I think I’ll go to the Sûreté and do the same,” answered Lefarge. + 

They parted, having arranged to meet later in the evening. Burnley wrote a detailed account of his day to his Chief, asking him to have inquiries made at Waterloo about the second cask. Having posted it, he gave himself up to a study of Felix’s letter ordering the group of statuary. + 

It was written on a sheet of the same kind of paper as those of the two typewritten letters received by Felix. Burnley carefully compared the watermarks and satisfied himself on the point. Then, drawing from his pocket the address he had got Felix to write in the house on the Great North Road, he compared them. + 

The handwriting was the same in each, at least that was his first impression, but on a closer examination he felt somewhat less certain. He was not a handwriting expert, but he had come across a good many of these men, and was aware of some of their methods. He applied those he knew and at last came to the conclusion that Felix had written the order, though a certain doubt remained. He wrote another note to his Chief and enclosed the two letters, asking him to have them compared. + 

Then he went out to spend the evening with Lefarge. + 

XIII + 

The Owner of the Dress + 

When some time later the two friends met, Lefarge said:⁠— + 

“I saw the Chief, and he’s not very satisfied with the way things are going. None of those women have done anything with the clothes. He’s got a notion we ought to advertise and he wants us to go there at nine tonight and talk it over.” + 

Accordingly, at the hour named, they presented themselves at the office in the Sûreté. + 

“Sit down, gentlemen,” began the Chief. “I wanted to consult with you about this case. In our efforts to identify the dead woman, which we agreed was our first essential, we have unfortunately had no success. Our three women have done exceedingly well as far as covering ground goes, but they have had no luck. You, gentlemen, have found out some important facts, but they have not led in this particular direction. Now, I am inclined to think we ought to advertise and I’d like to hear your views.” + 

“What particular advertisements do you suggest, sir?” asked Burnley. + 

“For everything. Advertise, in each case with 100 francs reward, for information about the dress, the underclothes if singular in any way, the rings, the comb, and the body itself.” + 

There was silence for a few moments, and then Burnley replied hesitatingly:⁠— + 

“We have a bit of prejudice at Scotland Yard about advertising except in special cases. I think the idea is that it puts people on their guard who might otherwise give themselves away. But in this case it would probably be the quickest way to a result.” + 

“To me it would seem,” said Lefarge, “that even if there was a band of persons anxious to hush this murder up, there would also be enough outside that band to answer every one of the advertisements.” + 

“That is rather my view,” agreed the Chief. “Take the servants, for example. A woman wearing such clothes is certain to have lived in a house with several servants. Some one of them is bound to read the advertisement and recognise the description. If he or she intends to try for the reward we get the information, if not, he will certainly show the paper to the others, one of whom is almost certain to come. The same thing applies to shop assistants, none of whom could conceivably wish to keep the thing a secret. Yes, I think we’ll try it. Will you draft out some forms, something like this, I should imagine. ‘One hundred francs reward will be paid for information leading to the identification of the body of a lady, believed to have died about the 30th March’⁠—say ‘died,’ of course, not ‘was murdered’⁠—then the description, and ‘Apply at any Police Station.’ The others would be for information leading to the identification of the purchaser of the various clothes.” + 

“I shall have to see the three ladies for a proper description of the clothes,” said Lefarge. + 

“Of course. I’ll send for them.” + 

M. Chauvet telephoned to the department in question, and, after a delay of a few minutes, the three female detectives came in. With their help the advertisements were drawn up, and when the Chief had read and approved they were telephoned to the principal papers for insertion next day. Special trade journals relating to the millinery and jewellery trades were also supplied with copies for their next issues. + 

“By the way,” observed M. Chauvet, when the women had left, “I have had a report about the lottery business. M. Le Gautier is correct on both points. He paid in the cheque on the date stated, and the drawing does not take place till next Thursday. The probabilities seem therefore to point to his being an honest man and having had nothing to do with the letter. And now, with regard to tomorrow. What do you propose?” + 

“First, monsieur, we thought of going to the Gare St. Lazare to see if the superintendent has any further information for us. I thought we should then try and trace back the cask that went via Rouen.” + 

“Very good. I think I shall try another scent also, though not a very promising one. I shall put on a couple of men to go round the fashionable photographers with that photo of yours, and try if they can find a portrait of the woman. I had rather you could have done it”⁠—he looked at Burnley⁠—“because you have seen the body, but they may get something. That’s all, then, is it not? Good night.” + 

“Hard lines being done out of our evening,” said Lefarge, when they had left the great man’s room. “I was going to propose the Folies Bergères. It’s not too late yet, though. What do you say?” + 

“I’m on,” answered Burnley, “but I don’t want to stay more than an hour or so. I can always work better on plenty of sleep.” + 

“Right,” returned Lefarge, and, calling a taxi, the two friends were driven to the famous music-hall. + 

Lefarge called for Burnley the next morning at the latter’s hotel, and they made their way to the superintendent’s office at the Gare St. Lazare. + 

“Well, gentlemen,” said their friend of the previous afternoon, motioning them to be seated, “I think I’ve got the information you want.” He took up some papers. “I have here the receipt of the Southampton boat people for what we may call number one cask, which was handed them on the arrival of the 7:47 from this station on the night of the 30th ult. Here,” he took up a similar paper, “I have the receipt of the I. and C. Steam Navigation Co. at Rouen for cask number two, which left here by goods train on the 1st inst., and was got on board on the 3rd. Finally, our agent at the Goods Station at the rue Cardinet informs me he has found the porters who assisted to unload this number two cask when it arrived. You can see them by going down there now.” + 

“I can hardly find words to thank you, sir,” said Lefarge, “your help has been of the utmost value.” + 

“Delighted, I am sure.” + 

They parted with mutual compliments, and the detectives took a Ceinture train to Batignoles, and walked down the rue Cardinet to the vast goods station. + 

They introduced themselves to the agent, who was expecting them, and brought them through long passages and across wide yards alive with traffic to a dock in the side of one of the huge goods sheds for outward bound traffic. Calling up two blue-bloused porters and instructing them to answer the detectives’ questions, he excused himself and took his leave. + 

“Now, men,” said Lefarge, “we’ll be much obliged for some information and there’ll be a few francs going if you can give it.” + 

The men expressed anxiety to supply whatever was needed. + 

“Do you remember on Thursday week, the 1st instant, unloading a cask labelled for Felix, London, via Rouen and long sea?” + 

“But yes, monsieur, we remember it,” said the men in chorus. + 

“You must unload hundreds of casks. How did you come to notice this one so specially?” + 

“Ah, monsieur,” replied one of the men, “had monsieur had to lift it himself he also would have noticed it. The weight was remarkable, extraordinary. The shape also was peculiar. In the middle there was no bulge.” + 

“At what time did it arrive here?” + 

“Just after six in the evening, monsieur, between five and ten minutes past.” + 

“It is a good while since then. How do you come to remember the time so exactly?” + 

“Because, monsieur,” the man smiled, “we were going off duty at half-past six, and we were watching the time.” + 

“Can you tell me who brought it to the yard?” + 

The men shrugged their shoulders. + 

“Alas! monsieur, we do not know,” the spokesman answered. “The carter we would recognise if we saw him again, but neither of us know where he lives nor the name of his employers.” + 

“Can you describe him?” + 

“But certainly, monsieur. He was a small man, thin and sickly looking, with white hair and a clean-shaven face.” + 

“Well, keep a good lookout, and if you see him again find out who he is and let me know. Here is my address. If you do that there will be fifty francs for you.” + 

Lefarge handed over a couple of five-franc pieces and the detectives left, followed by the promises and thanks of the men. + 

“I suppose an advertisement for the carter is the next scheme,” said Burnley, as they walked back in the Clichy direction. + 

“We had better report to headquarters, I think,” replied Lefarge, “and see what the Chief advises. If he approves, we might get our advertisement into tonight’s papers.” + 

Burnley agreed, and when they had had some lunch they rang up the Sûreté from the nearest call office. + 

“That Lefarge?” was the answer. “The Chief wants you to return immediately. He’s got some news.” + 

They took the Metro from Clichy to Châtelet and reached the Sûreté as the clocks were striking two. M. Chauvet was in. + 

“Ah,” he said, as they entered, “we’ve had a reply to the dress advertisement. Madame Clothilde’s people near the Palais Royal rang up about eleven saying they believed they had supplied the dress. We got hold of Mlle. Lecoq, who was working it, and sent her over, and she returned here about an hour ago. The dress was sold in February to Madame Annette Boirac, at the corner of Avenue de l’Alma and rue St. Jean, not far from the American Church. You’d better go round there now and make some inquiries.” + 

“Yes, monsieur,” said Lefarge, “but before we go there is this question of the cask,” and he told what they had learned, and suggested the advertisement about the carter. + 

M. Chauvet had just begun his reply when a knock came to the door and a boy entered with a card. + 

“The gentleman’s waiting to see you on urgent business monsieur,” he said. + 

“Hallo!” said the Chief, with a gesture of surprise. “Listen to this.” He read out the words, “ ‘M. Raoul Boirac, rue St. Jean, 1, Avenue de l’Alma.’ This will be Mme. Annette B.’s husband, I presume. These advertisements are doing well. You had better stop, both of you,” and then to the boy, “Wait a moment.” + 

He picked up the telephone, pressing one of the buttons on the stand. + 

“Send Mlle. Joubert here immediately.” + 

In a few moments a girl stenographer entered. M. Chauvet pointed to a corner of the room where Burnley had noticed a screen, set back as if to be out of the way. + 

“I want every word of this conversation, mademoiselle,” said the Chief. “Please be careful to miss none of it, and also to keep quiet.” + 

The girl bowed and, having seen her settled behind the screen, the Chief turned to the messenger. + 

“I’ll see him now.” + 

In a few seconds M. Boirac entered the room. He was a strongly built man of rather under middle age, with thick black hair and a large moustache. On his face was an expression of strain, as if he was passing through a period of acute bodily or mental pain. He was dressed entirely in black and his manner was quiet and repressed. + 

He looked round the room and then, as M. Chauvet rose to greet him, he bowed ceremoniously. + 

“M. le Chef de la Sûreté?” he asked, and, as M. Chauvet bowed him to a chair, continued⁠— + 

“I have called to see you, monsieur, on a very painful matter. I had hoped to have been able to do so alone,” he paused slightly, “but these gentlemen, I presume, are completely in your confidence?” He spoke slowly with a deliberate pronunciation of each word, as if he had thought out whether that was the best possible he could use and had come to the conclusion that it was. + 

“If, monsieur,” returned M. Chauvet, “your business is in connection with the recent unfortunate disappearance of your wife, these gentlemen are the officers who are in charge of the case, and their presence would be, I think, to the advantage of all of us.” + 

M. Boirac sprang from his chair, deep emotion showing under his iron control. + 

“Then it is she?” he asked, in a suppressed voice. “You know? It seemed possible from the advertisement, but I wasn’t sure. I hoped⁠—that perhaps⁠—There is no doubt, I suppose?” + 

“I shall tell you all we know, M. Boirac, and you can form your own conclusions. First, here is a photograph of the body found.” + 

M. Boirac took the slip of card and looked at it earnestly. + 

“It is she,” he murmured hoarsely, “it is she without a doubt.” + 

He paused, overcome, and, the others respecting his feelings, there was silence for some moments. Then with a strenuous effort he continued, speaking hardly above a whisper⁠— + 

“Tell me,” his voice shook as he pronounced the words with difficulty, “what makes her look so terrible? And those awful marks at her throat? What are they?” + 

“It is with the utmost regret I have to tell you, M. Boirac, that your wife was undoubtedly murdered by strangulation. Further, you must know that she had been dead several days when that photograph was taken.” + 

M. Boirac dropped into his chair, and sunk his head in his hands. + 

“My God!” he panted. “My poor Annette! Though I had no cause to love her, I did, God help me, in spite of everything, I did. I know it now when I have lost her. Tell me,” he continued in a low tone after another pause, “tell me the details.” + 

“I fear they are rather harrowing, monsieur,” said the Chief, with sympathetic sorrow in his tone. “A certain cask was noticed by the London police, a detail, with which I need hardly trouble you, having aroused their suspicions. The cask was seized and opened, and the body was found inside.” + 

The visitor remained with his face buried in his hands. After a few seconds he raised himself and looked at M. Chauvet. + 

“Any clue?” he asked, in a choking tone. “Have you any clue to the villain who has done this?” + 

“We have a number of clues,” returned the Chief, “but have not yet had time to work them. I have no doubt that we will have our hands on the murderer shortly. In the meantime, M. Boirac, to make assurance doubly sure, I would be glad if you would see if you can identify these clothes.” + 

“Her clothes? Oh, spare me that. But there, I understand it is necessary.” + 

M. Chauvet picked up his telephone and gave directions for the clothes to be sent in. The jewellery was not available, as Mlle. Blaise had taken it in her round of the shops. + 

“Alas! Yes,” cried M. Boirac sadly, when he saw the dress, “it is hers, it is hers. She wore it the evening she left. There can be no further doubt. My poor, mistaken Annette!” + 

“I am afraid, M. Boirac, at the risk of giving you pain, I must ask you to be good enough to tell us all you can about the circumstances of your wife’s disappearance. These gentlemen are Mr. Burnley of the London police, and M. Lefarge of our own staff, and they are collaborating in the matter. You may speak before them with complete freedom.” + 

M. Boirac bowed. + 

“I will tell you everything, monsieur, but you must pardon me if I seem a little incoherent. I am not myself.” + 

M. Chauvet stepped to a press and took from it a flask of brandy. + 

“Monsieur,” he said, “you have our fullest sympathy. Allow me to offer you a little of this.” He poured out a stiff glass. + 

“I thank you, monsieur,” returned the visitor, as he drank the cordial. It pulled him together, and he became once more the unemotional man of business. He kept himself well in hand and did not, during the telling of his story, allow his emotion to overcome him, though at times it was clear all his powers of self-control were needed. In a stronger voice he began his statement, and his three companions settled themselves more comfortably in their chairs to listen. + 

XIV + 

M. Boirac Makes a Statement + 

“My name and address you know,” began M. Boirac. “In business I am the managing director of the Avrotte Pump Construction Co., whose works are situated off the rue Championnet, not far from the Omnibus Co.’s depot. I am fairly well off, and we lived comfortably, my wife going a good deal into society. + 

“On Saturday, the 27th ult., this day fortnight, we had a dinner party at the Avenue de l’Alma. Our principal guest was the Spanish ambassador, at whose house my wife had visited when in Madrid the previous year. Among the others was a M. Léon Felix, an old friend of my wife’s, who lived in London, and was in some business there. The guests arrived and we sat down to dinner, but unfortunately before the meal was concluded a telephone message came for me from the works to say that a serious accident had happened, and requiring my immediate presence. There was nothing for it but to apologise to my guests and go off at once, which I did, though I promised to return at the earliest possible moment. + 

“When I reached the works I found that the main bed casting of a new 200-h.p. engine which was being put in during the weekend, had slipped and slewed sideways while being got into place, killing one man and seriously injuring two others. One of the cylinders was fractured, and the whole casting had jammed between the wall and the flywheel pit and could not be got out. + 

“As soon as I saw how serious things were, I telephoned home to say I would be very late, and that there would be no chance of my returning in time to see my guests. However, we got on much better than I expected, and it was barely eleven when I turned out of the works. Not seeing a taxi, I walked to the Simplon station of the Metro. My route, as you will understand, involved a change of trains at Châtelet and I accordingly alighted there. I had hardly done so when I was clapped on the back by someone, and turning, found an American acquaintance called Myron H. Burton, with whom I had stayed in the same hotel in New York and with whom I had become friendly. We stood in talk for some time, and then I asked him where he was staying, inviting him to put up at my house instead of returning to his hotel. He declined, saying he was going to Orléans by the 12:35 from the Quai d’Orsay, and asked me to go and see him off and have a drink at the station. I hesitated, but remembering I was not expected at home, I agreed and we set off. This night being mild and pleasant we walked along the quais, but when we reached the Port Royal it was barely a quarter to twelve. Burton suggested continuing our stroll, which we did, going round the Place de la Concorde and the end of the Champs-Élysées. Interested in our talk, we forgot the passage of time, and arrived at the Gare Quai d’Orsay with only a minute to spare for my friend to catch his train and, therefore, to his apparent great chagrin, missing the drinks to which he had wished to treat me. I felt wakeful, and began to walk home, but when I had gone about halfway, rain began to fall. I looked for a taxi, but could not see one, and therefore continued my journey on foot, arriving home about one o’clock. + 

“François, the butler, met me in the hall. He seemed uneasy. + 

“ ‘I heard the front door bang not ten minutes ago, monsieur,’ he said, as I took off my wet coat. ‘I got up to see if anything was wrong.’ + 

“ ‘Got up?’ I said. ‘How had you come to go to bed before I returned?’ + 

“ ‘Madame told me to, monsieur, about half-past eleven. She said you would be very late and that she would be sitting up.’ + 

“ ‘All right,’ I said, ‘where is Madame?’ + 

“He hesitated. + 

“ ‘I don’t know, monsieur,’ he said at length. + 

“ ‘Don’t know?’ I said. I was growing angry. ‘Has she gone to bed?’ + 

“ ‘She has not gone to bed, monsieur,’ he answered. + 

“I am not, M. le Chef, an imaginative man, but suddenly a feeling of foreboding swept over me. I hurried into the drawing-room and from that to my wife’s small sitting-room. They were both empty. I ran to her bedroom. There was no one there. Then I recollected she had frequently waited for me in my study. I went there to find it also untenanted, and I was just about to withdraw when I saw on my desk a letter which had not been there earlier in the evening. It was addressed to me in my wife’s handwriting, and, with a terrible sinking of the heart, I opened it. Here, M. le Chef, it is.” + 

It was a short note, written on a sheet of cream-laid notepaper and without date or address. It read:⁠— + 

I do not ask you to forgive me for what I am doing tonight, Raoul, for I feel it would be quite too much to expect, but I do ask you to believe that the thought of the pain and annoyance it will be bound to give you cuts me to the heart. You have always been just and kind according to your lights, but you know, Raoul, as well as I do, that we have never loved each other. You have loved your business and your art collection, and I have loved⁠—Léon Felix, and now I am going to him. I shall just disappear, and you will never hear of me again. You, I hope, will get your divorce, and be happy with some more worthy woman. + 

Goodbye, Raoul, and do not think worse of me than you can help. + 

M. Boirac bowed his head while the others read this unhappy note. He seemed overcome with emotion, and there was silence in the Chief’s room for a few seconds. The sun shone gaily in with never a hint of tragedy, lighting up that bent figure in the armchair, and bringing into pitiless prominence details that should have been cloaked decently in shadow, from the drops of moisture on the drawn brow to the hands clenched white beneath the edge of the desk. Then, as they waited, he pulled himself together with an effort and continued:⁠— + 

“I was almost beside myself from the blow, and yet I instinctively felt I must act as if nothing had happened. I steadied myself and called to François, who was still in the hall:⁠— + 

“ ‘It’s all right, François. I’ve had a note from Madame. She was obliged to go out at a moment’s notice to catch the Swiss train. She had a message that her mother is dying.’ + 

“He replied in his ordinary tone, but I could see that he did not believe one word. The understanding and the pity in his eyes almost drove me frantic. I spoke again as carelessly as I could⁠— + 

“ ‘I wonder had she time to call Suzanne and get properly dressed. You might send her here and then you can get back to bed.’ + 

“Suzanne was my wife’s maid, and when she came into the study I saw from her startled and embarrassed air that she knew. + 

“ ‘Suzanne,’ I said, ‘Madame has had to go to Switzerland suddenly and unexpectedly. She had to rush off to catch the train without proper time for packing, still, I hope she was able to take enough for the journey?’ + 

“The girl answered at once in a nervous, frightened tone. ‘I have just been to her room, monsieur. She has taken her fur coat and hat and a pair of walking shoes. The evening shoes she was wearing tonight are there where she changed them. She did not ring for me and I did not hear her go to her room.’ + 

“I had become somewhat calmer by this time, and I was thinking rapidly while she spoke. + 

“ ‘Ah, well,’ I answered, ‘you had better pack some of her things tomorrow so that I can send them after her. She will be staying with her mother, and will no doubt be able to borrow what she wants till her own things arrive.’ + 

“François was still hanging about the corridor. I sent them both to bed and sat down to try and realise what had taken place. + 

“I need hardly trouble you with my thoughts. For some days I was half crazed, then I pulled myself together. Suzanne I sent home, saying I had heard from Madame that she was employing one of her mother’s maids.” + 

M. Boirac paused. + 

“That,” he said at length, “I think is all I have to tell you, M. le Chef. From that awful evening until I saw your advertisement in the Figaro a couple of hours ago, I have not heard a syllable from either my wife or Felix.” + 

M. Boirac had told his story simply and directly, and his manner seemed to bear the impress of truth. The statement carried conviction to his hearers, who felt their sympathy going out to this man who had acted so loyally to the wife who had betrayed him. M. Chauvet spoke⁠— + 

“Permit me to express to you, M. Boirac, our deep regret for what has happened and particularly for your having had to come here and make this painful statement. Still more we regret that the terrible dénouement should make it almost impossible to keep the matter hushed up. Our search for the murderer has, of course, begun. We shall not detain you any longer, except to ask you to repeat a few names and hours so that we may note them to make your statement complete.” + 

M. Boirac bowed. + 

“I thank you for your courtesy, M. le Chef.” + 

The Chief continued⁠— + 

“There is first of all your address. That we have on your card. Next⁠—I shall put it in question form⁠—What time was dinner?” + 

“Quarter to eight.” + 

“And what time did the message come for you from your works?” + 

“About a quarter to nine.” + 

“And you arrived there?” + 

“About nine-fifteen, I should think, I did not look. I walked to the Champs-Élysées and took a taxi.” + 

“You said, I think, that you telephoned home then informing your wife that you could not return until very late?” + 

“I believe I did say that, but it is not strictly correct. I went to see the damage immediately on arrival, and was occupied there for some time. I should say I telephoned about ten o’clock.” + 

“But you unexpectedly got away about eleven?” + 

“That is so.” + 

“So that you must have met your friend at Châtelet about twenty past eleven?” + 

“About that, I should think.” + 

“Now your friend. I should like a note of his name and address.” + 

“His name I have already given you, Myron H. Burton. His address I unfortunately cannot, as I do not know it.” + 

“His home address, then?” + 

“I don’t know that, either. I met him in an hotel in New York. We played billiards together a few times and became friendly enough, but not to the extent of exchanging our family histories.” + 

“When was that, M. Boirac?” + 

“In the summer of 1908, no, 1909, three years ago.” + 

“And the hotel?” + 

“The Hudson View, the one that was burnt out last Christmas.” + 

“I remember, a terrible business, that. Your friend went by the 12:35 to Orléans. He was staying there I suppose?” + 

“No, he was changing there and going on, though where he was going I do not know. He told me this because I remarked on his choosing such a train⁠—it does not get in until about 4:30⁠—instead of sleeping in Paris and going by an early express that would do the journey in two hours.” + 

“Oh, well, it is not of much importance. The only other thing, I think, is the name and address of your wife’s maid.” + 

M. Boirac shook his head. + 

“I’m sorry I can’t give you that either. I only know her as Suzanne. But I dare say François or some of the other servants would know it.” + 

“I shall have, with your permission, to send a man to look over the house, and he can make inquiries. I am sure, M. Boirac, we are extremely obliged to you for your information. And now, what about the formal identification of the body? I have no doubt from what you say it is indeed that of your wife, but I fear the law will require a personal identification from you. Would it be convenient for you to run over to London and see it? Interment has not yet, I understand, taken place.” + 

M. Boirac moved uneasily. The suggestion was clearly most unwelcome to him. + 

“I needn’t say I would infinitely prefer not to go. However, if you assure me it is necessary, I can have no choice in the matter.” + 

“I am exceedingly sorry, but I fear it is quite necessary. A personal examination is required in evidence of identification. And if I might make a suggestion, I think that the visit should be made as soon as convenient to you.” + 

The visitor shrugged his shoulders. + 

“If I have to go, I may as well do it at once. I will cross tonight and be at Scotland Yard at, say, 11:00 tomorrow. It is Scotland Yard, I suppose?” + 

“It is, monsieur. Very good. I will telephone to the authorities there to expect you.” + 

The Chief rose and shook hands, and M. Boirac took his leave. When he had gone, M. Chauvet jumped up and went to the screen. + 

“Get half a dozen copies of that statement and the questions and answers typed at once, mademoiselle. You can get a couple of the other girls to help you.” + 

He turned to the two detectives. + 

“Well, gentlemen, we have heard an interesting story, and, whatever we may think of it, our first business will be to check it as far as we can. I think you had better get away immediately to the Avenue de l’Alma and see this François, if possible before Boirac gets back. Go through the house and get anything you can, especially a sample of the wife’s handwriting. Try also and trace the maid. In the meantime, I will set some other inquiries on foot. You might call in about nine tonight to report progress.” + 

XV + 

The House in the Avenue de l’Alma + 

Burnley and Lefarge took the tram along the quais and, dismounting at the Pont Alma, proceeded up the Avenue on foot. The house was a corner one fronting on the Avenue, but with the entrance in the side street. It was set a few feet back from the footpath, and was a Renaissance building of gray rubble masonry, with moulded architraves and enrichments of red sandstone and the usual mansard roof. + 

The two men mounted the steps leading to the ornate porch. On their right were the windows of a large room which formed the angle between the two streets. + 

“You can see into that room rather too clearly for my taste,” said Burnley. “Why, if that’s the drawing-room, as it looks to be by the furniture, every caller can see just who’s visiting there as they come up to the door.” + 

“And conversely, I expect,” returned Lefarge, “the hostess can see her visitors coming and be prepared for them.” + 

The door was opened by an elderly butler of typical appearance, respectability and propriety oozing out of every pore of his sleek face. Lefarge showed his card. + 

“I regret M. Boirac is not at home, monsieur,” said the man politely, “but you will probably find him at the works in the rue Championnet.” + 

“Thanks,” returned Lefarge, “we have just had an interview with Mr. Boirac, and it is really you we wish to see.” + 

The butler ushered them into a small sitting-room at the back of the hall. + 

“Yes, messieurs?” he said. + 

“Did you see an advertisement in this morning’s papers for the identification of a lady’s body?” + 

“I saw it, monsieur.” + 

“I am sorry to say it was that of your mistress.” + 

François shook his head sadly. + 

“I feared as much, monsieur,” he said in a low tone. + 

“M. Boirac saw the advertisement also. He came just now to the Sûreté and identified the remains beyond any doubt. It is a painful case, for I regret to tell you she had been murdered in a rather brutal way, and now we are here with M. Boirac’s approval to make some inquiries.” + 

The old butler’s face paled. + 

“Murdered!” he repeated in a horrified whisper. “It couldn’t be. No one that knew her could do that. Everyone, messieurs, loved Madame. She was just an angel of goodness.” + 

The man spoke with real feeling in his voice and seemed overcome with emotion. + 

“Well, messieurs,” he continued, after a pause, “any help I can give you to get your hands on the murderer I’ll give with real delight, and I only hope you’ll succeed soon.” + 

“I hope so too, François. We’ll do our best anyway. Now, please, will you answer some questions. You remember M. Boirac being called to the works on Saturday the 27th of March, the evening of the dinner party, at about a quarter to nine. That was about the time, wasn’t it?” + 

“Yes, monsieur.” + 

“He went out at once?” + 

“He did, monsieur.” + 

“Then he telephoned at about half-past ten that he could not return until later. Was that about the time?” + 

“Rather earlier than that, I should think, monsieur. I don’t remember exactly, but I should think it was very little, if at all, past ten.” + 

“About ten, you think? Can you tell me what words he used in that message?” + 

“He said the accident was serious, and that he would be very late, and possibly might not get back before the morning.” + 

“You told your mistress, I suppose? Did the guests hear you?” + 

“No, monsieur, but Madame immediately repeated the message aloud.” + 

“What happened then?” + 

“Shortly after that, about 11:00 or 11:15, the guests began to leave.” + 

“All of them?” + 

The butler hesitated. + 

“There was one, a M. Felix, who waited after the others. He was differently situated to them, being a friend of the family. The others were merely acquaintances.” + 

“And how long did he wait after the others?” + 

François looked confused and did not immediately reply. + 

“Well, I don’t know, monsieur,” he said slowly. “You see, it was this way. I happened to have a rather bad headache that evening, and Madame asked me if I was not well⁠—it was just like her to notice such a thing⁠—and she told me to go to bed and not to sit up for Monsieur. She said M. Felix was waiting to get some books and would let himself out.” + 

“So you went to bed?” + 

“Yes, monsieur. I thanked her, and went after a little time.” + 

“About how long?” + 

“Perhaps half an hour.” + 

“And had M. Felix gone then?” + 

“No, monsieur, not at that time.” + 

“And what happened then?” + 

“I fell asleep, but woke up suddenly again after about an hour. I felt better and I thought I would see if Monsieur was in and if everything was properly locked up. I got up and went towards the hall, but just as I came to the staircase I heard the front door close. I thought, ‘That’s Monsieur coming in,’ but there was no sound of anyone moving in the hall and I went down to see.” + 

“Yes?” + 

“There was no one there, so I looked into the different rooms. They were all empty, though lighted up. I thought to myself, ‘This is strange,’ and I went to find Suzanne, Madame’s maid, who was sitting up for her. I asked her had Madame gone to bed, but she said not. ‘Well,’ I said, ‘she’s not downstairs. Better go up and see if she’s in her room.’ She went and came down in a moment looking frightened, and said the room was empty, but that Madame’s hat and fur coat and a pair of walking shoes were gone. Her evening shoes that she had been wearing were lying on the floor, where she had changed them. I went up myself and we searched around, and then I heard the latch of the front door again and went down. Monsieur was just coming in and, as I took his coat and hat, I told him about hearing the door close. He asked where Madame was, and I answered I did not know. He looked himself, and in the study he found a note which I suppose was from her, for after he had read it he asked no more questions, but told me she had had to go to Switzerland to her mother, who was ill. But I knew when he got rid of Suzanne two days later that she wasn’t coming back.” + 

“What time did M. Boirac come in?” + 

“About one o’clock, or a few minutes after.” + 

“Were his hat and coat wet?” + 

“Not very wet, monsieur, but he had been evidently walking through rain.” + 

“You didn’t make any further search to see if anything else had been taken, I suppose?” + 

“Yes, monsieur. Suzanne and I searched the entire house most thoroughly on Sunday.” + 

“With no result?” + 

“None, monsieur.” + 

“I suppose the body could not have been concealed anywhere in the house?” + 

The butler started as this new idea struck him. + 

“Why, no, monsieur,” he said, “it would have been absolutely impossible. I myself looked in every spot and opened everything large enough to contain it.” + 

“Thank you, I think that’s about all I want to know. Can you put me in touch with Suzanne?” + 

“I believe I can get you her address, monsieur, from one of the parlourmaids with whom she was friends.” + 

“Please do, and in the meantime we shall have a look through the house.” + 

“You will not require me, monsieur?” + 

“No, thanks.” + 

The plan of the downstairs rooms was simple. The hall, which was long and rather narrow, stretched back from the entrance door in the rue St. Jean to the staircase in a direction parallel to the Avenue de l’Alma. On the right was the drawing-room, a large apartment in the angle between the two streets, with windows looking out on both. Across the hall, with its door facing that of the drawing-room, was the study, another fine room facing on to the rue St. Jean. A small sitting-room, used chiefly by the late Madame Boirac, and the dining-room were situated behind the study and the drawing-room respectively. To the rear of the doors of these latter rooms were the staircase and servants’ quarters. + 

The detectives examined these respective rooms in detail. The furnishing was luxurious and artistic. The drawing-room furniture was Louis Quatorze, with an Aubusson carpet and some cabinets and tables of buhl. There was just enough of good Sèvres and Ormolu, the whole selection of arrangement reflecting the taste of the connoisseur. The dining-room and boudoir gave the same impression of wealth and culture, and the detectives as they passed from room to room were impressed by the excellent taste everywhere exhibited. Though their search was exhaustive it was unfortunately without result. + 

The study was a typical man’s room, except in one respect. There was the usual thick carpet on the floor, the customary book-lined walls, the elaborate desk in the window, and the huge leather armchairs. But there was also what almost amounted to a collection of statuary⁠—figures, groups, friezes, plaques, and reliefs, in marble and bronze. A valuable lot, numerous enough and of sufficient excellence not to have disgraced the art galleries of a city. M. Boirac had clearly the knowledge, as well as the means, to indulge his hobby to a very full extent. + 

Burnley took his stand inside the door and looked slowly round the room, taking in its every detail in the rather despairing hope that he would see something helpful to his quest. Twice he looked at the various objects before him, observing in the slow, methodical way in which he had trained himself, making sure that he had a clear mental conception of each before going on to the next. And then his gaze became riveted on an object standing on one of the shelves. + 

It was a white marble group about two feet high of three garlanded women, two standing and one sitting. + 

“I say,” he said to Lefarge, in a voice of something approaching triumph, “have you heard of anything like that lately?” + 

There was no reply, and Burnley, who had not been observing his companion, looked around. Lefarge was on his knees examining with a lens something hidden among the thick pile of the carpet. He was entirely engrossed, and did not appear to have heard Burnley’s remark, but as the latter moved over he rose to his feet with a satisfied little laugh. + 

“Look here!” he cried. “Look at this!” + 

Stepping back to the cross wall adjoining the door, he crouched down with his head close to the floor and his eyes fixed on a point on the carpet in a line between himself and the window. + 

“Do you see anything?” he asked. + 

Burnley got into the same position, and looked at the carpet. + 

“No,” he answered slowly, “I do not.” + 

“You’re not far enough this way. Come here. Now look.” + 

“Jove!” Burnley cried, with excitement in his tones. “The cask!” + 

On the carpet, showing up faintly where the light struck it, was a ring-shaped mark about two feet four inches diameter. The pile was slightly depressed below the general surface, as might have been caused by the rim of a heavy cask. + 

“I thought so too,” said Lefarge, “but this makes it quite certain.” + 

He held out his lens, and indicated the part of the floor he had been scrutinising. + 

Burnley knelt down and, using the lens, began to push open the interstices of the pile. They were full of a curious kind of dust. He picked out some and examined it on his hand. + 

“Sawdust!” he exclaimed. + 

“Sawdust,” returned the other, in a pleased and important tone. “See here,”⁠—he traced a circle on the floor⁠—“sawdust has been spilled over all this, and there’s where the cask stood beside it. I tell you, Burnley, mark my words, we are on to it now. That’s where the cask stood while Felix, or Boirac, or both of them together, packed the body into it.” + 

“By Jove!” Burnley cried again, as he turned over this new idea in his mind. “I shouldn’t wonder if you are right!” + 

“Of course I’m right. The thing’s as plain as a pikestaff. A woman disappears and her body is found packed in sawdust in a cask, and here, in the very house where she vanishes, is the mark of the same cask⁠—a very unusual size, mind you⁠—as well as traces of the sawdust.” + 

“Ay, it’s likely enough. But I don’t see the way of it for all that. If Felix did it, how could he have got the cask here and away again?” + 

“It was probably Boirac.” + 

“But the alibi? Boirac’s alibi is complete.” + 

“It’s complete enough, so far as that goes. But how do we know it’s true? We have had no real confirmation of it so far.” + 

“Except from François. If either Boirac or Felix did it, François must have been in it, too, and that doesn’t strike me as likely.” + 

“No, I admit the old chap seems all right. But if they didn’t do it, how do you account for the cask being here?” + 

“Maybe that had something to do with it,” answered Burnley, pointing to the marble group. + 

Lefarge started. + 

“But that’s what was sent to Felix, surely?” he cried, in surprise. + 

“It looks like it, but don’t say anything. Here’s François. Let us ask him.” + 

The butler entered the room holding a slip of paper which he gave to Lefarge. + 

“Suzanne’s address, messieurs.” Lefarge read:⁠— + 

“Mlle. Suzanne Daudet, + 

rue Popeau, 14b, + 

Dijon.” + 

“Look here, François,” said the detective, pointing to the marble group. “When did that come here?” + 

“Quite recently, monsieur. As you see, Monsieur is a collector of such things, and that is, I think, the latest addition.” + 

“Can you remember the exact day it arrived?” + 

“It was about the time of the dinner-party, in fact, I remember now distinctly. It was that very day.” + 

“How was it packed?” + 

“It was in a cask, monsieur. It was left in here that Saturday morning with the top boards loosened for Monsieur to unpack. He never would trust anyone to do that for him.” + 

“Was he, then, in the habit of getting these casks?” + 

“Yes, monsieur, a good many of the statues came in casks.” + 

“I see. And when was this one unpacked?” + 

“Two days later, monsieur, on Monday evening.” + 

“And what happened to the cask?” + 

“It was returned to the shop. Their cart called for it two or three days later.” + 

“You don’t remember exactly when?” + 

The butler paused in thought. + 

“I do not, monsieur. It was on the Wednesday or Thursday following, I believe, but I’m not positive.” + 

“Thank you, François. There is one other thing I should be greatly obliged if you could do for me. Get me a sample of Madame’s writing.” + 

François shook his head. + 

“I haven’t such a thing, monsieur,” he replied, “but I can show you her desk, if you would care to look over it.” + 

They went into the boudoir, and François pointed out a small davenport finished with some delicate carving and with inlaid panels, a beautiful example of the cabinetmaker’s art. Lefarge seated himself before it and began to go through the papers it contained. + 

“Somebody’s been before us,” he said. “There’s precious little here.” + 

He produced a number of old receipted bills and circulars, with some unimportant letters and printed papers, but not a scrap in Madame’s handwriting could he discover. + 

Suddenly François gave an exclamation. + 

“I believe I can get you what you want, messieurs, if you will wait a moment.” + 

“Yes,” he said, as he returned a few seconds later, “this will perhaps do. It was framed in the servants’ hall.” + 

It was a short document giving the work of the different servants, their hours of duty, and other similar information, and was written in the hand, so far as the detectives could recollect, of the letter of farewell to M. Boirac. Lefarge put it away carefully in his notebook. + 

“Now let us see Madame’s room.” + 

They examined the bedroom, looking particularly for old letters, but without success. Next they interviewed the other servants, also fruitlessly. + 

“All we want now,” said Lefarge to the old butler, “is a list of the guests at that dinner, or at least some of them.” + 

“I can tell you, I think, all of them, monsieur,” returned François, and Lefarge noted the names in his book. + 

“What time is M. Boirac likely to return?” asked Burnley, when they had finished. + 

“He should have been here before this, monsieur. He generally gets back by half-past six.” + 

It was now nearly seven, and, as they waited, they heard his latchkey in the door. + 

“Ah, messieurs,” he greeted them, “so you are here already. Any luck?” + 

“No luck so far, M. Boirac,” replied Lefarge, continuing after a pause: “There is a point on which we should be obliged for some information, monsieur. It is about this marble group.” + 

“Yes?” + 

“Could you tell us the circumstances under which you got it, and of its arrival here?” + 

“Certainly. I am a collector of such articles, as you must have noticed. Some time ago, in passing Dupierre’s in the Boulevard des Capucines, I saw that group and admired it greatly. After some hesitation I ordered it and it arrived⁠—I believe it was the very day of⁠—of the dinner-party, either that or the day before⁠—I am not positive. I had the cask containing it brought into the study to unpack myself⁠—I always enjoy unpacking a new purchase⁠—but I was so upset by what had happened I hadn’t much heart in doing so. However, on the following Monday evening, to try and distract my thoughts, I did unpack it, and there you see the result.” + 

“Can you tell me, monsieur,” asked Burnley, “was M. Felix also interested in such things?” + 

“He was. He is an artist and painting is therefore his specialty, but he had a good knowledge of sculpture also.” + 

“He wasn’t interested in that particular group, I suppose?” + 

“Well, I can hardly tell you that. I told him about it and described it to him, but, of course, so far as I am aware he had not seen it.” + 

“Did you happen to mention the price?” + 

“I did, fourteen hundred francs. That was the thing he specially asked. That, and the shop at which I had bought it. He said he could not afford it then, but that at some time he might try and get another.” + 

“Well, I think that’s all we want to know. Our best thanks, M. Boirac.” + 

“Good evening, messieurs.” + 

They bowed themselves out, and, walking to the top of the Avenue, took the Metro to Concorde, from which they passed up the rue Castiglione to the Grands Boulevards to dine and spend the time until they were due back at the Sûreté. + 

XVI + 

Inspector Burnley Up Against It + 

At nine o’clock that evening the usual meeting was held in the Chief’s room at the Sûreté. + 

“I also have had some news,” said M. Chauvet, when he had heard Burnley’s and Lefarge’s reports. “I sent a man up to that pump manufactory and he found out enough to substantiate entirely Boirac’s statement of the hours at which he arrived there and left on the night of the accident. There is also a despatch from Scotland Yard. On receipt of Mr. Burnley’s wire immediate inquiries were made about the cask sent by Havre and Southampton. It appears it arrived all right at Waterloo on the morning after it was despatched from here. It was booked through, as you know, to an address near Tottenham Court Road, and the railway people would in the ordinary course have delivered it by one of their lorries. But just as it was being removed from the van of the train, a man stepped forward and claimed it, saying he was the consignee, that he wished to take it to another address, and that he had a cart and man there for the purpose. He was a man of about medium height, with dark hair and beard, and the clerk thought he was a foreigner, probably French. He gave his name as Léon Felix and produced several envelopes addressed to himself at the Tottenham Court Road address as identification. He signed for, and was handed over the cask, and took it away. His movements after that were completely lost sight of, and no further traces of him have been discovered. A photo of Felix was shown to the Waterloo people, but while the clerk said it was like the man, neither he nor any of the others would swear to it. + 

“Inquiries have also been made about Felix. It turns out he is an artist or designer in Messrs. Greer and Hood’s, the advertisement and poster people of Fleet Street. He is not married, but keeps an elderly servant-housekeeper. This woman was on a fortnight’s holiday from the 25th of March to the 8th of this month. + 

“So much for London,” continued M. Chauvet. “Now, let us see what we have still to do. First, that lady’s maid at Dijon must be interviewed. I think, Lefarge, you might do that. Tomorrow is Sunday. Suppose you go tomorrow. You can sleep at Dijon, and get back as early as possible on Monday. Then, Mr. Burnley, that matter of the statue sent to M. Boirac must be gone into. Perhaps you would be good enough to make inquiries at Dupierre’s on Monday morning, and please keep in touch with me by phone. I will look into some other points, and we shall meet here at the same time that evening.” + 

The detectives took the Metro at Châtelet, Burnley going west to his hotel in the rue Castiglione, and Lefarge east to the Gare de Lyons. + 

On Monday morning Burnley called to see M. Thomas at the showroom in the Boulevard des Capucines. + 

“I’m back again, M. Thomas,” he said, as they greeted one another. He explained what had been learned about the casks at the Gare St. Lazare, continuing, “So you see, two must have been sent out. Now, can you give me any information about the sending out of the second cask?” + 

“Absolutely none, monsieur,” returned Thomas, who was evidently amazed at this new development, “I am quite positive we only sent one.” + 

“I suppose it’s impossible that Felix’s order could have been dealt with twice in error, once by you here, and once by the head office in the rue Provence?” + 

“I should say quite, because they do not stock the good work there, it is all stored and dealt with here. But if you like I’ll phone the head office now, and make quite sure.” + 

In a few minutes there was a reply from M. Thévenet. No cask of any kind had been sent out from the rue Provence establishment on or about the date mentioned, and none at any time to Felix. + 

“Well, M. Thomas, it’s certain, is it not? that one of your casks was sent by Rouen and long sea about the 1st instant. Do you think you could let me have a list of all the casks of that size that were out of your yard on that date? It must have been one of them.” + 

“Yes, I suppose it must. I think I can give you that information, but it will take some time to get out.” + 

“I’m sorry for giving you the trouble, but I see no other way. We shall have to follow up each of these casks until we find the right one.” + 

M. Thomas promised to put the work in hands without delay, and Burnley continued:⁠— + 

“There is another point. Could you tell me something about your dealings with M. Raoul Boirac, of the Avenue de l’Alma, and particularly of any recent sales you made him?” + 

“M. Boirac? Certainly. He is a very good customer of ours and a really well-informed amateur. For the last six years, since I was appointed manager here, we must have sold him thirty or forty thousand francs worth of stuff. Every month or two he would drop in, take a look round, and select some really good piece. We always advised him of anything new we came across and as often as not he became a purchaser. Of recent sales,” M. Thomas consulted some papers, “the last thing we sold him was, curiously enough, the companion piece of that ordered by Felix. It was a marble group of three female figures, two standing and one seated. It was ordered on the 25th of March, and sent out on the 27th.” + 

“Was it sent in a cask?” + 

“It was. We always use the same packing.” + 

“And has the cask been returned?” + 

M. Thomas rang for a clerk and asked for some other papers. + 

“Yes,” he said, when he had looked over them, “the cask sent to M. Boirac on the 27th of last month was returned here on the 1st instant.” + 

“One other point, M. Thomas. How can one distinguish between the two groups, that sent to M. Felix, and that to M. Boirac?” + 

“Very easily. Both consist of three female figures, but in M. Felix’s two were seated and one standing, while in M. Boirac’s two were standing and one seated.” + 

“Thank you very much. That’s all I want.” + 

“Not at all. Where shall I send that list of casks?” + 

“To the Sûreté, if you please,” and with a further exchange of compliments the two men parted. + 

Burnley was both mystified and somewhat disappointed by the information M. Thomas had given him. He had been really impressed by Lefarge’s discovery that a cask containing sawdust had recently been opened in M. Boirac’s study, though he had not admitted it at the time. His friend’s strongly expressed opinion that either Felix or Boirac, or both, had at that time packed the body in the cask had seemed more and more likely, the longer he had thought it over. There were, however, difficulties in the theory. First, as he had pointed out to Lefarge, there was the personality of François. He felt he would stake his reputation on François’ innocence, and without the butler’s cooperation he did not see how the murder could have been carried through. Then, what possible motive could either of the men named have had for desiring the death of the lady? These and other difficulties he had foreseen, but he had not considered them insuperable. Possibly, in spite of them, they were on the right track. But now all hopes of that were dashed. The explanation of M. Boirac of the presence of the cask was complete, and it had been confirmed by François. This perhaps was not conclusive, but M. Thomas had confirmed it also, and Burnley felt the evidence of its truth was overwhelming. The body could not therefore have been packed in the cask, because it had been returned direct from M. Boirac’s to the showrooms. Reluctantly he felt Lefarge’s theory must be abandoned, and, what was much worse, he had no other to substitute. + 

Another point struck him. If he could find out the hour at which Felix had reached his hotel on the fatal evening, and his condition on arrival, it might confirm or disprove some of the statements they had heard. Therefore, having phoned to the Sûreté and finding he was not required there, he turned his steps again to the Hotel Continental and asked for the manager. + 

“I’m afraid I am back to give more trouble, monsieur,” he said, as they met, “but one point has arisen upon which we want some information.” + 

“I shall be pleased to assist you as far as I can.” + 

“We want to know at what hour M. Felix returned to the hotel on the night of Saturday fortnight, the 27th March, and his condition on arrival. Can you get us that?” + 

“I’ll make inquiries. Excuse me a moment.” + 

The manager was gone a considerable time. When he returned after more than half an hour he shook his head. + 

“I can’t find out,” he said. “I’ve asked everyone I can think of, but no one knows. One of the hall porters was on duty that evening up till midnight, and he is positive he did not come in before that hour. This is a very reliable man and I think you may take what he says as accurate. The man who relieved him is off duty at present, as is also the night lift boy, and the chambermaid on late duty in M. Felix’s corridor, but I will interview them later and let you know the result. I presume that will be time enough?” + 

“Certainly,” and with thanks Burnley withdrew. + 

He lunched alone, greatly regretting M. Lefarge’s absence, and then called up the Sûreté again. M. Chauvet wanted to speak to him, he was told, and soon he was switched through to the great man’s private room. + 

“There has been another wire from London,” said the distant voice, “and it seems a cask was sent by passenger train from Charing Cross to Paris via Dover and Calais on Thursday week, the 1st of April, consigned to M. Jaques de Belleville, from Raymond Lemaître. I think you had better go to the Gare du Nord and find out something about it.” + 

“How many more casks are we going to find?” thought the puzzled Burnley, as he drove in the direction of the station. As the taxi slipped through the crowded streets he again took stock of his position, and had to admit himself completely at sea. The information they gained⁠—and there was certainly plenty coming in⁠—did not work into a connected whole, but each fresh piece of evidence seemed, if not actually to conflict with some other, at least to add to the tangle to be straightened out. When in England he had thought Felix innocent. Now he was beginning to doubt this conclusion. + 

He had not Lefarge’s card to show to the clerk in the parcels office, but fortunately the latter remembered him as having been with the French detective on their previous call. + 

“Yes,” he said, when Burnley had explained, in his somewhat halting French, what he wanted, “I can tell you about that cask.” He turned up some papers. + 

“Here we are,” he said. “The cask came off the Calais boat train at 5:45 p.m. on Thursday week, the 1st instant. It was consigned from Charing Cross to M. Jaques de Belleville, to be kept here until called for. He claimed it personally almost immediately after, and removed it on a cart he had brought.” + 

“Can you describe M. de Belleville?” + 

“He was of medium height and dark, with a black beard. I did not take special notice of him.” + 

Burnley produced a photograph of Felix he had received from London. + 

“Is that the man?” he asked, handing it over. + 

The clerk scrutinised it carefully. + 

“I could hardly say,” he replied hesitatingly, “it’s certainly like my recollection of him, but I am not sure. Remember I only saw him once, and that about ten days ago.” + 

“Of course, you could hardly be expected to remember. Can you tell me another thing? What time did he take the cask away?” + 

“I can tell you that because I book off duty at 5:15, and I waited five minutes after that to finish the business. He left at 5:20 exactly.” + 

“I suppose there was nothing that attracted your attention about the cask, nothing to differentiate it from other casks?” + 

“As a matter of fact,” returned the clerk, “there were two things. First, it was exceedingly well and strongly made and bound with thicker iron hoops than any I had previously seen, and secondly, it was very heavy. It took two men to get it from here to the cart that M. de Belleville had brought.” + 

“You didn’t notice any lettering on it, other than the labels?” + 

“I did,” he answered, “there was ‘Return to’ in French, English, and German, and the name of a Paris firm.” + 

“Do you recollect the name?” + 

The young man paused in thought. + 

“No, monsieur,” he replied, after a few seconds, “I regret to say I have quite forgotten it.” + 

“I suppose you wouldn’t recognise it if you heard it? It was not, for example, Messrs. Dupierre, the monumental sculptors, of Grenelle?” + 

The clerk hesitated again. + 

“Possibly it was, monsieur, but I fear I could not say definitely.” + 

“Well, I am greatly obliged for what you have told me, anyway. Just one other question. What was in the cask?” + 

“It was invoiced Statuary, but of course I did not see it opened, and don’t know if the description was correct.” + 

Burnley thanked the young man and turned out of the great station. Certainly it sounded as if this was a similar cask to that he had taken to Scotland Yard, if it was not the same one. Of course, he had to remember that even if it were one of Messrs. Dupierre’s, which was not proven, there were a large number of these casks in circulation, and it did not follow that this one was connected with his quest. But the whole circumstances gave him to think, and he felt that his bewilderment was not lessened by the new development. As he walked slowly down the rue de Lafayette towards his hotel, he racked his brains in the endeavour to piece together into a connected whole the various facts he had learnt. He strolled on into the Tuileries and, choosing a quiet spot under a tree, sat down to think the matter out. + 

And first, as to these mysterious journeyings of casks. He went over the three in his mind. First, there was the cask sent out by Messrs. Dupierre on the Tuesday evening after the dinner-party, which travelled via Havre and Southampton, and which was received at Waterloo on the following morning by a black-bearded man, believed to have been Felix. That cask was addressed to Felix and it contained a statue. Then there was the second cask, sent out from Paris two days later⁠—on the Thursday evening⁠—which went via Rouen and long sea, and which was undoubtedly received at St. Katherine’s Docks by Felix. This number two cask contained the body of Madame Annette Boirac. And finally, there was what he might call number three cask, which was sent from London to Paris on that same Thursday, and which was claimed on arrival at the Gare du Nord by a M. Jaques de Belleville. This cask, like both the others, was labelled “Statuary,” but whether that was really its contents was not known. + 

The Inspector lit one of his strong cigars and puffed thoughtfully, as he turned these journeys over in his mind. He could not but think there was some connection between them, though at first he could not trace it. Then it occurred to him that if they were considered, not in the order of their discovery, but chronologically, some light might be gained. He went over them anew. The first journey was still that from Paris to London via Havre and Southampton, leaving Paris on Tuesday night and arriving at Waterloo on Wednesday morning. The second was now that leaving London on Thursday morning and reaching Paris that afternoon, via Dover and Calais, and the third that from Paris to London via Rouen, leaving on that same Thursday evening, and arriving at St. Katherine’s Docks on the following Monday. That is, from Paris to London, back from London to Paris, and back again from Paris to London. This seemed to show an element of design. And then a possible connection flashed across his mind. Instead of three casks might there not have been only one? Did the same cask not travel in each case? + 

The more Burnley thought over this, the more likely it seemed. This would explain M. Thomas’s statement that only one cask had been sent out. It would make clear how the cask containing the body had been obtained. It would account for the astonishing coincidence that three casks of this unusual kind had made three such journeys almost at the same time. + 

Yes, it seemed probable. But if so, at some point in that triple journey the cask must have been opened, the statue removed, and the body substituted. The evidence was overwhelming that the cask had contained a statue when it left the Boulevard des Capucines yard, and that it had not been tampered with till it reached the van of the 7:47 p.m. from the Gare St. Lazare to Havre. Further, it had contained the body on arrival at St. Katherine’s Docks, and here again there was evidence that it could not have been opened in the hold of the Bullfinch. Therefore, at some point along the route, Gare St. Lazare, Havre, Southampton, Waterloo, Charing Cross, Dover, Calais, Gare du Nord, rue Cardinet goods station, Rouen, the change must have been made. Burnley made a mental note that every part of that journey must be the subject of the closest inquiry. + 

He went a step further. At the end of each of the three journeys it was met by a middle-sized, black-bearded, French-looking man. In the case of the third journey that man was Felix. In the two earlier, his identity was not definitely known, but he was like Felix. Suppose it was Felix in each case, would not this also tend to prove there was only one cask, and that Felix was sending it backwards and forwards with some design of his own? The Inspector felt sure that he was right so far. + 

But if Felix had acted in this way, it followed that either he was the murderer and wished to get the body to his house to dispose of it there, or else he was an innocent man upon whom the real criminal wished to plant the corpse. This latter idea had been growing in the Inspector’s mind for some time. It seemed to hinge very much on the question, Did Felix know what was in the cask when he met it at St. Katherine’s Docks? Burnley recalled the scene at Scotland Yard when it was opened. Either Felix was an incomparable actor, or else he did not know. Burnley doubted even whether any acting could have been so realistic. He remembered also that Felix’s illness from the shock was genuine. No, he rather believed Felix knew nothing of the corpse and, if so, he must be innocent. The point was one Burnley felt he could not settle alone. They must have medical evidence. + 

But if Felix was innocent, who was likely to be guilty? Who else could have had any motive to kill this lady? What could that motive have been, in any case? He could not tell. No evidence had yet come to light to suggest the motive. + 

His thoughts turned from the motive to the manner of the crime. Strangulation was an unusual method. It was, moreover, a horrible method, ghastly to witness and comparatively slow in accomplishment. Burnley could not imagine anyone, no matter how brutal, deliberately adopting it and carrying it out in cold blood. No, this was a crime of passion. Some of the elemental forces of love and hate were involved. Jealousy, most probably. He considered it in his careful, methodical way. Yes, jealousy certainly seemed the most likely motive. + 

And then another point struck him. Surely strangulation would only be adopted, even in the heat of passion, if no other method was available. If a man about to commit a murder had a weapon in his hand, he would use it. Therefore, thought Burnley, in this case the murderer could have had no weapon. And if he had no weapon, what followed from that? Why, that the crime was unpremeditated. If the affair had been planned, a weapon would have been provided. + 

It seemed, therefore, probably that the crime was not deliberate and cold-blooded. Someone, when alone with Madame, had been suddenly and unexpectedly roused to a pitch of furious, overmastering passion. And here again, what more likely to cause this passion than acute jealousy? + 

The Inspector lit another cigar, as he continued his train of thought. If the motive was what he suspected, who would be a likely person to feel jealousy in reference to Madame? A former lover, he thought. So far they knew of none, and Burnley took a mental note that inquiries must be made to ascertain if such existed. Failing a former lover, the husband immediately came into his mind, and here he seemed on firmer ground. If Madame had had an understanding with Felix, and Boirac had come to know of it, there was the motive at once. Jealousy was what one would naturally expect Boirac to feel under such circumstances. There was no doubt that, so far as the facts had as yet come to light, Boirac’s guilt was a possibility they must not overlook. + 

The Inspector then turned his thoughts to a general review of the whole case. He was a great believer in getting things on paper. Taking out his notebook, he proceeded to make a list of the facts so far as they were known, in the order of their occurrence, irrespective of when they were discovered. + 

First of all was the dinner party at M. Boirac’s, which took place on Saturday evening, the 27th of March. At this Felix was present, and, when Boirac was called away to his works, he remained behind, alone with Madame Boirac, after the other guests had left. He was alone with her from 11:00 p.m. till at least 11:30, on the evidence of François. About one in the morning, François heard the front door close, and, coming down, found that both Felix and Madame had disappeared. Madame had changed her shoes and taken a coat and hat. On Boirac’s return, a few minutes later, he found a note from his wife stating that she had eloped with Felix. Felix was believed to have gone to London next day, this having been stated by the manager of the Hotel Continental, as well as by Felix to his friend Martin outside the house when Constable Walker was listening in the lane. On that Sunday or the Monday following, a letter, apparently written by Felix, was posted in London. It contained an order on Messrs. Dupierre to send a certain group of statuary to that city. This letter was received by the firm on Tuesday. On the same day, Tuesday, the statue was packed in a cask and despatched to London via Havre and Southampton. It reached Waterloo on the following morning, and was removed from there by a man who claimed to be Felix, and probably was. The next morning, Thursday, a similar cask was despatched from Charing Cross to the Gare du Nord in Paris, being met by a man giving his name as Jaques de Belleville, but who was probably Felix. The same evening, some fifty minutes later, a similar cask was delivered at the goods station of the State Railway in the rue Cardinet, for despatch to London via Rouen and long sea. Next day, Friday, Felix stated he received a typewritten letter purporting to be from Le Gautier, telling about the lottery and the bet, stating the cask was being sent by long sea, and asking him to get it to his house. On the following morning, Saturday, he had a card from the same source, saying the cask had left, and on Monday, the 5th of April, he got the cask from the Bullfinch at St. Katherine’s Docks, and took it home. + 

Burnley’s list then read as follows:⁠— + 

Saturday, March 27.⁠—Dinner at M. Boirac’s. Madame disappears. + 

Sunday, March 28.⁠—Felix believed to cross to London. + 

Monday, March 29.⁠—Felix writes to Dupierre, ordering statue. + 

Tuesday, March 30.⁠—Order received by Dupierre. Statue despatched via Havre and Southampton. + 

Wednesday, March 31.⁠—Cask claimed at Waterloo, apparently by Felix. + 

Thursday, April 1.⁠—Cask sent from Charing Cross. Cask met at Gare du Nord. Cask delivered at rue Cardinet goods station for despatch to London. + 

Friday, April 2.⁠—Felix receives Le Gautier’s letter. + 

Saturday, April 3.⁠—Felix receives Le Gautier’s card. + 

Monday, April 5.⁠—Felix meets cask at docks. + 

Some other points he added below, which did not fall into the chronological scheme. + 

The typescript letter produced by Felix purporting to be from Le Gautier about the lottery, the bet, and the test with the cask, and the typescript slip in the cask about the return of a £50 loan, were done by the same machine, on the same paper. + 

The letter from Felix to Dupierre, ordering the statue was written on the same paper as the above, pointing to a common origin for the three. + 

Pleased with the progress he had made, Burnley left his seat under the tree and strolled back to his hotel in the rue Castiglione to write his daily report to Scotland Yard. + 

XVII + 

A Council of War + 

At nine that evening, Inspector Burnley knocked at the door of the Chief’s room in the Sûreté. Lefarge was already there, and, as Burnley sat down, M. Chauvet said:⁠— + 

“Lefarge is just going to tell his adventures. Now, Lefarge, if you please.” + 

“As arranged on Saturday,” began the detective, “I went to Dijon yesterday and called on Mlle. Daudet in the rue Popeau. She seems a quiet, reliable girl, and, I think, truthful. She corroborated M. Boirac’s and the butler’s statements on every point, but added three details they omitted. The first was that Mme. Boirac took a wide-brimmed hat, but no hatpins. This seemed to strike the girl as very strange, and I asked why. She said because the hat was useless without the pins, as it would not stay on. I suggested the lady must have been so hurried she forgot them, but the girl did not think that possible. She said it would have taken no appreciable time to get the pins, as they were stuck in the cushion at Madame’s hand, and that a lady would put in hatpins quite automatically and as a matter of habit. In fact, had they been forgotten, the loose feel of the hat, even in the slight air caused by descending the stairs, would have at once called attention to the omission. She could offer no explanation of the circumstance. The second detail was that Madame took no luggage⁠—not even a handbag with immediate necessaries for the night. The third seems more important still. On the morning of the dinner-party Madame sent Suzanne to the Hotel Continental with a note for Felix. Felix came out and instructed her to tell Madame he had her note and would come.” + 

“A curious point, that about the pins,” said the Chief, and, after a few moments’ silence, he turned to Burnley and asked for his report. When this had been delivered and discussed he went on:⁠— + 

“I also have some news. There has been a telephone call from the manager of the Hotel Continental. He says it can be established beyond doubt that Felix returned to the hotel at 1:30 on Sunday morning. He was seen by the hall porter, the lift boy, and the chambermaid, all of whom are agreed on the time. All three also agree that he was in a quite normal condition, except that he was in a specially good humour and seemed pleased about something. The manager points out, however, that he was habitually good-humoured, so that there may be nothing remarkable about this.” + 

M. Chauvet took some cigars from a drawer and, having selected one, passed the box to the others. + 

“Help yourselves, gentlemen. It seems to me that at this stage we should stop and see just where we stand, what we have learnt, if we have any tenable theory, and what still remains to be done. I am sure each of us has already done this, but three minds are better together than separate. What do you say, Mr. Burnley?” + 

“An excellent idea, monsieur,” returned the Inspector, congratulating himself on his cogitations earlier in the day. + 

“Perhaps you would tell us how you approached the problem, and we shall add our ideas as you go on?” + 

“I started, monsieur, with the assumption that the murder was the central factor of the whole affair, and the other incidents merely parts of a design to get rid of the body and divert suspicion.” + 

“I fancy we are all agreed there, eh, Lefarge?” + 

The Frenchman bowed, and Burnley continued:⁠— + 

“I thought then of the method of the murder. Strangulation is such a brutal way of killing that it seemed the work either of a maniac, or a man virtually mad from passion. Even then it would hardly have been used if other means had been available. From that I argued the crime must have been unpremeditated. If it had been planned, a weapon would have been provided.” + 

“A good point, Mr. Burnley. I also had come to the same conclusion. Please continue.” + 

“If this was so, it followed that some person, when alone with Mme. Boirac, had suddenly been overcome with absolute, blind passion. What, I asked myself, could have aroused this? + 

“A love affair, causing hate or jealousy, naturally suggested itself, but I could not fit it in. Who could have felt these passions? + 

“Considering Felix first, I did not see how he could experience either hate or jealousy against a woman who had eloped with him. It is true, a lover’s quarrel might have taken place, resulting in something approaching temporary hatred, but it was inconceivable this would be bitter enough to lead to such a climax. Jealousy, I did not believe could be aroused at all. It seemed to me that Felix would be the last man in the world to commit the crime. + 

“Then it occurred to me that hate and jealousy would be just what one might expect to find in Boirac’s case. If he were guilty, the motive would be obvious. And then, when M. Lefarge discovered yesterday that a cask similar to that in which the body was found had been unpacked in Boirac’s study, I felt sure this was the solution. However, since hearing the explanation of the presence of that cask, I admit I am again in doubt.” + 

“I agree with all you say, Mr. Burnley, except that we should remember that the passions of hate and jealousy could only arise in Boirac’s mind in a certain circumstance, namely, that he was aware his wife had eloped, or was about to elope, with Felix. If he were in ignorance of that, it is obvious he could have had no such feelings.” + 

“That is so, sir. Yes, it would only be if he knew.” + 

“And then, again, it would only be if he really loved his wife. If not, he might be vastly annoyed and upset, but not enough to throttle her in the blind passion we have spoken of. If they were not on good terms, or if there was some other woman in Boirac’s life, he might even view her action with delight, as a welcome relief, particularly as there were no children to complicate the question of a divorce.” The Chief looked inquiringly at his companions. + 

“I agree with that too, sir,” said Burnley, answering the look. + 

“And I, monsieur,” added Lefarge. + 

“So then, we have reached this point. If Boirac was in love with his wife, and if he knew she had eloped or was about to do so, he would have had a motive for the crime. Otherwise, we can suggest no motive at all, either for him, or Felix, or anybody else.” + 

“Your last words, monsieur, open up possibilities,” observed Lefarge. “Might it not have been some other person altogether? I do not see that we are limited to Felix or Boirac. What about Le Gautier, for instance, or someone we have not yet heard of?” + 

“Quite so, Lefarge. That is undoubtedly a possibility. There are others, François, the butler, for example, into whose actions we must inquire. The possibility of Madame’s having had some former lover must not be forgotten either. But I think we should make up our minds about these two men before we go farther afield.” + 

“There is another point,” resumed Burnley. “The medical evidence shows that only a short time can have elapsed between the time Madame left her house and the murder. We assume, on the hotel manager’s testimony, Felix went to London the morning after the dinner-party. If so, did Madame accompany him? If the former, it points to Felix, and if the latter, to Boirac.” + 

“I think we can deduce that,” said Lefarge. + 

“And how?” + 

“In this way, monsieur. Leave aside for a moment the question of the identity of the murderer, and consider how he got the body into the cask. This cask we have traced fairly well. It was packed in the showrooms in the Boulevard des Capucines, and in it was placed a statue. Then it travelled to Waterloo, and the evidence that it was not tampered with en route is overwhelming. Therefore the body was not in it when it arrived at Waterloo. Then, for twenty-two hours, it disappeared. It reappeared at Charing Cross, for it is too much to suppose there are really two casks in question, and travelled back to Paris, and again it is quite impossible that it could have been interfered with on the journey. At Paris it left the Gare du Nord at 5:20, and disappeared again, but it turned up at the State Railway goods station at 6:10 p.m. the same evening, and returned to London by long sea. On arrival in London it contained the body. It is certain the change was not made during any of the three journeys, therefore it must have been done during these disappearances in London or Paris. + 

“Of these disappearances, take that in Paris first. It lasted fifty minutes, and, during that time, the cask was conveyed between the Gare du Nord and the rue Cardinet goods station on a horse cart. How long, monsieur, should that journey have taken?” + 

“About fifty minutes, I should think,” returned the Chief. + 

“I thought so too. That is to say, the whole time of the disappearance is accounted for. We may reckon, also, it would take some considerable time to open, unpack, repack, and close the cask, and it seems to me it would have been utterly impossible for it to have both been opened and to have made that journey in the time. It made the journey, therefore it wasn’t opened. Therefore the body must have been put into it in London.” + 

“Excellent, Lefarge. I believe you are right.” + 

“There is a further point, monsieur. If my suggestion is correct, it definitely proves Madame Boirac went to London while alive, because her dead body obviously could not have been brought there. If we consider this in relation to the point about the medical evidence raised by Mr. Burnley, I think we shall be forced to conclude she crossed with Felix on Sunday.” + 

“It certainly sounds probable.” + 

“If she crossed with Felix, it seems almost certain that he is the guilty man. But there are a good many others things that point to Felix. Suppose for a moment he is guilty, and picture him faced with the question of how to dispose of the body. He wants a receptacle to remove it in. It suddenly occurs to him that only a few hours before he has seen the very thing. A cask for statuary. And, fortunately for him, he has not only seen it, but he has learned where to get a similar cask. What does he do? He proceeds to get that similar cask. He writes to the firm who use them, and he orders just such a piece of statuary as will ensure his getting the kind of cask he wants.” + 

“What about the false address?” + 

“Of that, monsieur, I cannot suggest the explanation, but I presume it was with some idea of covering his tracks.” + 

“Please continue.” + 

“I suggest then, that he got the cask on arrival in London, brought it to St. Malo, unpacked and probably destroyed the statue, packed the body, took the cask to Charing Cross and sent it to Paris, travelling over in the same train himself. In Paris he got a cart, and took it from the Gare du Nord to the rue Cardinet goods station, travelled back to London, and met the cask at St. Katherine’s Docks on the following Monday.” + 

“But what was the object of all these journeys? If his purpose was to get rid of the body, why would he first get rid of it, and then arrange an elaborate scheme to bring it back again?” + 

“I saw that difficulty, monsieur,” admitted Lefarge, “and I cannot explain it, though I would suggest it was for the same purpose as the false address⁠—in some way to divert suspicion. But more than that, monsieur. We have evidence that the black-bearded man who met the cask on its various journeys was like Felix. But we have so far found no other black-bearded man in the entire case. It seems to me, therefore, it must have been Felix.” + 

“If M. Lefarge’s theory is correct,” interposed Burnley, “the letter about the bet must have been written by Felix. In this case, could this letter and the journeys of the cask not have been devised with the object of throwing suspicion on Le Gautier?” + 

“Or on Boirac?” suggested the Chief. + 

“Boirac!” cried Lefarge, with a rapid gesture of satisfaction. “That was it, of course! I see it now. The whole of the business of the letter and the cask was a plant designed by Felix to throw suspicion on Boirac. What do you think, monsieur?” + 

“It certainly presents a working theory.” + 

“But why,” queried the Englishman, “should Le Gautier’s name be brought in? Why did he not use Boirac’s?” + 

“It would have been too obvious,” returned Lefarge, delighted with the rapid strides his theory was making. “It would have been crude. Felix would argue that if Boirac had written that letter, he would never have signed it himself. It was a subtle idea introducing Le Gautier’s name. + 

“If Felix did it,” Burnley continued, “it would certainly clear up the difficulty of the authorship of the letter. He is the only man we have discovered so far that would have had the necessary knowledge to write it. He was present at the Café Toisson d’Or, and had joined with Le Gautier in the lottery, and therefore knew that part of it. The discussion about criminals evading the police and the bet between Le Gautier and Dumarchez, neither of which we believe took place, he could have invented to account for the receipt of the cask, and finally, he would naturally know the details about the last journey of the cask, since he himself arranged them.” + 

“Quite so,” cried Lefarge eagerly, “it all works in. I believe we are beginning to see light. And we must not forget Suzanne’s evidence about the note. It is clear Madame and Felix had an understanding for that night. At least, we know of messages passing between them and the reply of Felix points to an assignation.” + 

“An important point, certainly. And yet,” the Chief objected, “there are difficulties. That singular point about the hatpins, for example. What do you make of that, Lefarge?” + 

“Agitation, monsieur. I would suggest that this lady was so excited at the action she was about to take that she hardly knew what she was doing.” + 

The Chief shook his head. + 

“I don’t know that that is very satisfactory,” he said. “Might it not, as also the fact that she took no luggage, mean that she never left the house at all? That she was murdered that same evening of the dinner-party, and the hat and coat removed to make a false scent? I suppose you have considered that?” + 

Burnley answered at once. + 

“I thought of that first of all, monsieur, but I dismissed it as impossible for the following reasons. First, if she was murdered on Saturday night, what was done with the body? It could not have been put into the cask in the study, as I had thought at first, for that was full. The statue was not unpacked till two nights later, on Monday. We know, indeed, it was not put into the cask, for that was returned direct to Messrs. Dupierre’s and found to be empty. Secondly, it could not have been hidden anywhere else in the house, for François and Suzanne made a thorough search on the Sunday, and the corpse would have been too big a thing for them to have overlooked. Further, if she was murdered in the house, either Felix, Boirac, or some third person or persons must have done it. Felix could hardly be the man, as I do not see how he could have removed the body without a confederate, and we have not found such. Boirac would perhaps have had more chances of disposing of the body, though I do not see how, but he had a complete alibi. Lastly, I felt strongly that François, the butler, was to be believed. I could not imagine him party to the murder, and I did not see how it could have been done at the time you suggest without his knowledge.” + 

“That certainly seems probable. In fact, when you add it to M. Lefarge’s point that the body must have been put into the cask in London, it seems to me almost conclusive.” + 

“I also feel sure it could not have been done then,” observed Lefarge, “though I don’t agree with Mr. Burnley that Boirac’s alibi is good.” + 

“Well now, I was rather inclined to accept the alibi,” said M. Chauvet. “What part of it do you consider doubtful, Lefarge?” + 

“All of it from the time Boirac left the works. We don’t know whether that American exists at all. As far as I can see, the whole thing may be an invention.” + 

“That is quite true,” admitted the Chief, “but it didn’t seem to me so very important. The crucial point, to my mind, is the hour at which Boirac says he returned home⁠—a few minutes past one. That is confirmed by François and by Suzanne, and I think we may accept their statement. But we have a further rather convincing incident. You may recollect Boirac stated that when he was halfway home from the Gare Quai d’Orsay it began to rain? You very properly tried to check even so small a point by asking François if his master’s coat was wet. He replied that it was. Now, I made inquiries, and I find that night was perfectly fine till almost one o’clock, when a thick, wetting rain began to fall. We know, therefore, quite definitely that Boirac was out until the time he said. Therefore he could not have done the deed before 1:15. Also, we know that he could not have done it after that hour, because the lady was gone, and also the butler and maid were about. Therefore, if Boirac did it at all, it must have been after that night.” + 

“That seems unquestionable, monsieur,” said Lefarge, “and when you add to that the fact that we have, so far at any rate, been quite unable to connect Boirac with the letter or the cask, and that we are practically certain Madame travelled to London, I think he may almost be eliminated from the inquiry. What do you say, Burnley?” + 

“Well, I think it’s a little too soon to eliminate anyone from inquiry. I confess that point of motive struck me as being very strong against Boirac.” + 

“That also, by the way, seems to show the deed was not done by Boirac that night,” the Chief went on. “Your point is that he killed his wife because she had run away with Felix. But if he came home and found her there, she obviously hadn’t run away. Hence the motive, for that night at least, falls to the ground.” + 

The three men laughed, and M. Chauvet resumed:⁠— + 

“Now, to sum up our present position. We know that Mme. Boirac was murdered between 11:30 p.m. on the Saturday of the dinner-party, and the following Monday evening, when the letter purporting to be from Felix and ordering the statue, was written. Obviously only Felix, Boirac, or some third person could be guilty. There is not, so far, a scintilla of evidence of any third person being involved, therefore it almost certainly was one of the other two. Taking Boirac first, we find that under certain circumstances he would have had a motive for the crime, but we have not yet been able to obtain any evidence that these circumstances existed. Apart from this, we can find nothing whatever against him. On the other hand, he has established a strong alibi for the only time during which, so far as we can now see, he could have committed the crime. + 

“Against Felix there are several suspicious circumstances. Firstly, it is proved he received a note from Madame, presumably arranging a meeting. Then we know he took advantage of the husband’s absence on the night of the dinner to have a private interview with her. That went on from 11:00 till at least 11:30, and there is reason to believe, though not proof, till 1:00. Then we believe Madame went to London, either actually with Felix, or at the same time. We conclude that for three reasons. First, she wrote to her husband that she had done so. The value of this evidence will, of course, depend on the opinion of our handwriting experts, whose report on the genuineness of this letter we have not yet received. Second, she could not have remained in the house, either alive or dead, as it was thoroughly searched by the servants, who found no trace of her. Neither could her body have been put in the cask in the study, for that contained the statue, and was not unpacked till the following Monday evening. Third, it is certain from the journeyings of the cask that the body was put into it in London, for the simple reason that it could not have been done anywhere else. Therefore she must have travelled to that city. + 

“Further, the letter presumed to be written to Felix by Le Gautier could be reasonably accounted for if Felix himself wrote it as a blind to cover his actions with the cask, should such be discovered. It is clear that it was written with some such purpose, as half of it⁠—all about the bet and the test⁠—is entirely untrue, and evidently invented to account for the arrival of the cask. Now, we may take it, Le Gautier did not write that letter. On the other hand, Felix is the only man we have yet found who had sufficient information to do so. + 

“Again, we know that a black-bearded man like Felix arranged the journeys of the cask. So far, Felix himself is the only black-bearded man we have found. On the other hand we have two strong points in Felix’s favour. First, we have not been able to prove motive, and second, his surprise when the body was found in the cask appears to have been genuine. We have undoubtedly a good deal of evidence against Felix, but we must note that not only is this evidence circumstantial, but there is also evidence in his favour. + 

“The truth is, in my opinion, that we have not yet sufficient information to come to a conclusion, and I fear it will take a lot of work to get it. Firstly, we must definitely prove the authorship of that letter about the lottery and the bet. And here, it seems to me, the tracing of that typewriter is essential. This should not be so difficult, as I think we may take it that the author used the typewriter himself. Therefore, only machines to which the possible writers could have had access need be examined. I will send a man tomorrow to get samples from all the machines Boirac could have used, and if that produces nothing, he can do the same in connection with Le Gautier, Dumarchez, and the other gentlemen whose names we have. I presume, Mr. Burnley, your people will take similar action with regard to Felix?” + 

“I expect they have done so already, but I will write tonight and make sure.” + 

“I consider that a vital point, and the next is almost equally important. We must trace Felix’s movements from the Saturday night till the Thursday evening when the cask containing the body was despatched from Paris. Further, we must ascertain by direct evidence, if Madame travelled with him to London. + 

“We must similarly trace the movements of Boirac for the same period. If none of these inquiries help us, other points would be the confronting of Felix and Boirac with the various luggage clerks that did business with the black-bearded man with the cask, in the hope that some of them might possibly identify him. The tracing of the carters who brought the cask to and from the various stations might or might not lead us to the men from whom they got their instructions. An exhaustive inquiry into the past life of Mme. Boirac and all the suspected men is also likely to be necessary. There are several other directions in which we can prosecute inquiries, but I fancy the above should give us all we want.” + 

The discussion was carried on for some time longer, various points of detail being more fully gone into. Finally, it was arranged that on the following morning Burnley and Lefarge should begin the tracing of Felix’s movements from the night of the dinner-party until he left French soil, after which Burnley would continue the quest alone, while Lefarge turned his attention to ascertaining Boirac’s movements during the crucial period. + 

XVIII + 

Lefarge Hunts Alone + 

At nine o’clock next morning the two colleagues met at the hotel in the rue Castiglione. They had discussed their plan of campaign before separating the previous evening, and did not waste time getting to work. Calling a taxi, they drove once more to the Hotel Continental and asked for their old friend the manager. In a few minutes they were ushered into the presence of that urbane and smiling, but somewhat bored official. + 

“We are exceedingly sorry to trouble you again, monsieur,” apologised Lefarge, “but the fact is we find we require some more information about your recent visitor, M. Felix. If you can help us to obtain it, you will greatly add to our already large debt of gratitude.” + 

The manager bowed. + 

“I shall be delighted to tell you anything I can. What is the point in question?” + 

“We want to trace M. Felix’s movements after he left here. You have already told us he went to catch the 8:20 English boat train at the Gare du Nord. We wondered if he really did travel by it. Can you help us to find out?” + 

“Our bus meets all the incoming boat trains, but attends only those outward bound by which visitors are travelling. If you will pardon me a moment, I will ascertain if it ran that day. It was Sunday, I think?” + 

“Sunday, the 28th March.” + 

The manager was absent for a few moments, returning with a tall young man in the uniform of a porter. + 

“I find the bus did run on the day in question, and Karl, here, went with it. He may be able to answer your questions.” + 

“Thank you, monsieur.” Lefarge turned to the porter. “You went to the Gare du Nord on Sunday, the 28th March, with some passengers for the 8:20 English boat train?” + 

“Yes, monsieur.” + 

“How many passengers had you?” + 

The porter considered. + 

“Three, monsieur,” he replied at length. + 

“Did you know who they were?” + 

“Two of them I knew, monsieur. One was M. Leblanc, a gentleman who had stayed in the hotel for over a month. The second was M. Felix, who has been a constant visitor for years. The third was an English gentleman, but I do not know his name.” + 

“Did these gentlemen converse together while in the bus?” + 

“I saw M. Felix speaking to the Englishman as they were leaving the bus, otherwise I cannot say.” + 

“Did they go by the 8:20?” + 

“Yes, monsieur. I put their luggage into the carriages, and I saw all three in the train as it was starting.” + 

“Was M. Felix alone?” + 

“He was, monsieur.” + 

“Did he meet or speak with a lady at the station?” + 

“I do not think so, monsieur. Certainly I did not see a lady.” + 

“Did he seem anxious or perturbed?” + 

“Not at all, monsieur. He was just as usual.” + 

“Thank you, I am exceedingly obliged.” + 

Some silver changed hands, and Karl withdrew. + 

“That is very satisfactory information, M. le Directeur. The only other point I want is the names and addresses of the two other occupants of the bus.” + 

These were ascertained with some slight difficulty⁠—M. Guillaume Leblanc, rue Verte, Marseilles, and Mr. Henry Gordon, 327 Angus Lane, Sauchiehall Street, Glasgow⁠—and the detectives bowed themselves out with compliments and thanks. + 

“That’s a piece of luck,” remarked Lefarge, as they drove towards the Gare du Nord. “Those men may have seen Felix at other stages of the journey, and we may be able to trace him the whole way.” + 

They spent the morning in the great station, interviewing ticket examiners and other officials, but without success. No one had seen either of the travellers. + 

“The boat is more likely,” observed Burnley. “If he is a constant traveller, some of the stewards will certainly know him.” + 

Taking the 4:00 p.m. train, they reached Boulogne as dusk was falling, and began their inquiries at the pier. Finding the Pas de Calais, which had made the run in which they were interested, would not leave till noon next day, they turned their steps to the local police station. There they saw the men who had been on duty when the boat left on the Sunday in question, but here again without getting any information. Then they went on board the steamer and sought the chief steward. + 

“I know that gentleman, yes,” he said when, after introducing themselves, Lefarge showed him Felix’s photograph. “He crosses frequently, once or twice a month, I should say. He is a M. Felix, but I cannot say where he lives, nor do I know anything else about him.” + 

“What we want to find out, monsieur, is when he last crossed. If you can tell us that, we shall be extremely obliged.” + 

The official considered. + 

“I am afraid I could hardly be sure of that. He crossed both ways fairly lately. I should say about ten days or a fortnight ago, but I’m not sure of the exact date.” + 

“We think he crossed on Sunday, the 28th March. Can you think of anything that would confirm whether it was this date?” + 

“No, I cannot. You see there would be nothing to record it. We could not now trace the ticket he held, and there is no way in which the identity of our passengers is ascertained and noted. Speaking from memory, I should say that the date you mention is about correct, but I could not be sure.” + 

“Is there anyone on board who might be able to help us?” + 

“I’m really very sorry, monsieur, but I don’t think there is. The captain, or one of the officers, might know him; I could not say.” + 

“Well, just one other question, monsieur. Was he travelling alone?” + 

“I think so. No, wait a minute, was he? I believe, now that you mention it, there was a lady with him. You will understand I was not noticing particularly, as my mind was occupied with my work, but it’s like a dream to me, I saw him talking to a lady on the promenade deck.” + 

“You could not describe her?” + 

“I could not, monsieur. I cannot be even positive she was there at all.” + 

Seeing there was nothing further to be learnt, they thanked the chief steward courteously. Then, remaining on board, they interviewed everyone they could find, whom they thought might be able to give them information. Of all they spoke to, only one, a waiter, knew Felix, and he had not seen him on the occasion in question. + 

“That’s no good, I’m afraid,” said Burnley, as they walked to an hotel. “I believe that steward did see a woman, but he would be useless as a witness.” + 

“Quite. I don’t fancy you’ll get much at Folkestone either.” + 

“Most unlikely, I should say, but I can but try. I think I’ll probably run up to Glasgow and see that man that travelled in the bus with him. He might know something. + 

“If not, I’ll see the other⁠—the one who lives in Marseilles.” + 

A few minutes before twelve next day saw the detectives strolling along the wharf beside the English boat. + 

“Well,” said Lefarge, “our ways part here. There is no use in my going to Folkestone, and I’ll take the 2:12 back to Paris. We have had a pleasant inquiry, and I’m only sorry we have not had a more definite result.” + 

“We’re not done with it yet,” returned the Englishman. “I expect we’ll get it pretty square before we stop. But I’m really sorry to say ‘Goodbye,’ and I hope we may be working together again before long.” + 

They parted with mutual assurances of goodwill, Burnley expressing his appreciation of the kindly treatment he had received in Paris, and Lefarge inviting him back to spend his next holidays in the gay capital. + 

We may accompany Lefarge on his return journey to Paris, and follow him as he endeavours to trace the movements of M. Boirac from the Saturday night of the dinner-party to the following Thursday evening, when the cask containing the body was despatched to London from the State Railway goods station in the rue Cardinet. + 

He reached the Gare du Nord at 5:45 p.m., and immediately drove to the Sûreté. M. Chauvet was in his office, and Lefarge reported his movements since they parted. + 

“I had a telephone call from Scotland Yard yesterday,” said the Chief. “It seems Boirac turned up at eleven as arranged. He definitely identified the body as that of his wife, so that point is settled.” + 

“Has he returned yet, do you know, monsieur?” + 

“I have not heard. Why do you ask?” + 

“I thought if he was still away I might take the opportunity of pumping François about his movements since the murder.” + 

“A good idea. We can find out at once.” + 

M. Chauvet turned over the pages of his telephone directory and, having found what he wanted, gave a call. + 

“Hallo? Is that M. Boirac’s?⁠—Is M. Boirac at home?⁠—About seven o’clock? Ah, thank you. I’ll ring up again later.⁠—No, don’t mind. It’s of no consequence.” + 

He replaced the receiver. + 

“He’s crossing by the 11:00 from Charing Cross, and will be home about seven. If you were to call about half-past six, which is the hour at which he usually returns, your visit would not be suspicious, and you could have a chat with François.” + 

“I shall do that, monsieur,” and with a bow the detective withdrew. + 

The clocks had just finished chiming the half-hour after six when Lefarge presented himself at the house in the Avenue de l’Alma. François opened the door. + 

“Good evening, M. François. Is M. Boirac at home?” + 

“Not yet, monsieur. We expect him in about half an hour. Will you come in and wait?” + 

Lefarge seemed to consider, and then⁠— + 

“Thanks. I think I will.” + 

The butler preceded him to the small sitting-room into which he had shown the two detectives on their first call. + 

“I heard at the Sûreté that M. Boirac had gone to London to identify the body. You don’t know, I suppose, if he was able to do so?” + 

“No, monsieur. I knew he had gone to London, but I did not know for what purpose.” + 

The detective settled himself in a comfortable chair and took out a cigarette case. + 

“Try one of these. They’re special Brazilian cigarettes. I suppose we may smoke here?” + 

“Certainly, monsieur. I thank you.” + 

“It’s a long way over from London. I don’t envy Monsieur his journey. You’ve been, I suppose, monsieur?” + 

“Twice, monsieur.” + 

“Once is all right to see the place, but after that⁠—no, thank you. But I suppose M. Boirac is used to it? They say you can get used to anything.” + 

“I should think he must be. He travels a lot. London, Brussels, Berlin, Vienna⁠—he had been at them all to my knowledge in the last two years.” + 

“I’m glad it’s he and not I. But I should think this unhappy event would take away his love for travelling. I should imagine he would want to stay quiet in his own home and see no one. What do you think, M. François?” + 

“Well, he hasn’t anyway, or else he can’t help himself. This is the second journey he’s made since then.” + 

“You surprise me. Or rather, no, you don’t. I suppose we shouldn’t be talking about what doesn’t concern us, but I would be willing to lay a napoleon I could tell you where the first journey was to and what it was for. It was to see the Wilson Test. Am I not right?” + 

“The Wilson Test, monsieur? What is that?” + 

“Have you never heard of the Wilson Test? Wilson is the head of a great firm of English pump manufacturers, and each year a reward of over 10,000 francs is offered by them for any pump that can throw more water than theirs. A test is held every year, and the last one took place on Wednesday. M. Boirac would naturally be interested, being head of a pump manufactory himself. He would go to the Test.” + 

“I’m afraid you would have lost your money, then, monsieur. He was away on Wednesday right enough, but I happen to know he went to Belgium.” + 

“Well,” said Lefarge, with a laugh, “I’m glad we didn’t bet, anyway. But,” he added, in a changed tone, “maybe I’m right after all. Maybe he went from Belgium to London, or vice versa. Was he long away?” + 

“He could not have done that, monsieur. He was only away two days, Wednesday and Thursday.” + 

“It ought to be a lesson to me. I’m always too ready to bet on an unsupported opinion,” and Lefarge led the conversation on to bets he had won and lost, till François excused himself to prepare for his master’s arrival. + 

Shortly after seven M. Boirac came in. He saw Lefarge at once. + 

“I don’t wish to trouble you after your journey, monsieur,” said the latter, “but some further points have arisen in this unhappy business, and I would be obliged if you could kindly give me an appointment at whatever time would suit you.” + 

“No time like the present. If you will excuse me for an hour till I change and get some dinner, I shall be at your service. You have dined, I suppose?” + 

“Yes, thank you. If, then, I may wait here for you, I would be glad to do so.” + 

“Then come into the study. You’ll perhaps find something to read in these bookcases.” + 

“I thank you, monsieur.” + 

The hands of the clock on the study chimneypiece were pointing to half-past eight when M. Boirac reentered. Sinking into an easy-chair, he said:⁠— + 

“Now, monsieur, I am at your service.” + 

“The matter is a somewhat difficult one for me to approach, monsieur,” began Lefarge, “in case it might seem to you that we had suspicions which we do not really entertain. But, as a man of the world, you will recognise that the position of the husband in unhappy affairs such as this must inevitably be made clear. It is a matter of necessary routine. My chief, M. Chauvet, has therefore placed on me the purely formal, but extremely unpleasant duty of asking you some questions about your own movements since the unhappy event.” + 

“That’s rather roundabout. Do you mean that you suspect me of murdering my wife?” + 

“Certainly not, monsieur. It is simply that the movements of everyone in a case like this must be gone into. It is our ordinary routine, and we cannot consult our inclination in carrying it out.” + 

“Oh, well, go ahead. You must, of course, do your duty.” + 

“The information my Chief requires is a statement from you of how you passed your time from the night of the dinner-party until the evening of the following Thursday.” + 

M. Boirac looked distressed. He paused before replying, and then said in an altered tone:⁠— + 

“I don’t like to think of that time. I passed through a rather terrible experience. I think I was temporarily insane.” + 

“I still more regret that I must persevere in my question.” + 

“Oh, I will tell you. The seizure, or whatever it was, is over and I am myself again. What happened to me was this. + 

“From the Saturday night, or rather Sunday morning, when I learnt that my wife had left me, I was in a kind of dream. My brain felt numb, and I had the curious feeling of existing in some way outside of and apart from myself. I went as usual to my office on Monday, returning home at my ordinary time in the evening. After dinner, in the hope of rousing myself, I unpacked the cask, but even that failed to excite my interest or lighten my depression. On the following morning, Tuesday, I again went to the office at my customary time, but after an hour of effort I found I could no longer concentrate my mind on my work. I felt that at all costs I must be alone so as to relax the strain of pretending nothing had happened. Still like a man in a dream, I left the office and, going down into the street, entered a Metro station. On the wall my eye caught sight of the notice, ‘Direction Vincennes,’ and it occurred to me that the Bois de Vincennes would be the very place for me to go. There I could walk without fear of meeting any of my acquaintances. I accordingly took the train there, and spent the morning pacing the more sequestered paths. The physical exercise helped me, but as I grew tired my mood changed. A great longing for human sympathy took possession of me, and I felt I must confide in someone, or go mad. I thought of my brother Armande, and felt sure I would get the sympathy I wanted from him. He lived not far from Malines, in Belgium, and I determined to go and see him at once. I lunched at a little café at Charenton, and from there telephoned to the office and to my house that I was going to Belgium for a couple of days. I instructed François to pack a handbag of necessaries and leave it immediately at the cloakroom at the Gare du Nord, where I should call for it. While sitting at lunch it occurred to me that if I went by the 4:05 p.m. train⁠—the first I could get⁠—I would not arrive at my destination till the middle of the night, so I decided I would wait till the evening train and see my brother the following day. Accordingly, I went for a long walk up the Seine, returning by a local train to the Gare du Lyon. I dined at a café in the Place de la Bastille, and finally went to the Gare du Nord, got my bag, and left by the 11:20 for Brussels. I slept well in the train and breakfasted in one of the cafés off the Place du Nord. About eleven I left for Malines, walking the four miles to my brother’s house for the sake of the exercise. But when I reached it I found it empty, and then I recollected, what had entirely slipped my memory, that my brother had spoken of a business trip to Stockholm, on which he was going to take his wife. I cursed my forgetfulness, but my mind was in such a state I hardly realised my loss of time and money. Walking slowly back to Malines, I considered returning to Paris that evening. Then I thought I had had enough travelling for one day. It was pleasant in the afternoon sun, and I let the time slip away, returning to Brussels about six. I dined at a café in the Boulevard Anspach, and then, thinking I would try and distract my thoughts, decided I would turn in for a couple of hours to a theatre. I telephoned to the Hôtel Maximilian, where I usually stayed, to reserve a room, and then I went to Berlioz’s Les Troyens at the Théâtre de la Monnaie, getting to my hotel about eleven. That night I slept well and next day my brain seemed saner and better. I left Brussels by the 12:50 from the Gare du Midi, arriving at Paris about five. Looking back on that abortive journey is like remembering a nightmare, but I think the solitude and the exercise really helped me.” + 

When M. Boirac ceased speaking, there was silence for a few moments, while Lefarge, in just the same painstaking way that Burnley would have adopted, went over in his mind what he had heard. He did not wish to question M. Boirac too closely lest, in the unlikely event of that gentleman proving guilty, he should put him on his guard; but he was anxious to miss no detail of the statement, so that he might as far as possible check it by independent testimony. On the whole, he thought the story reasonable, and, so far, he could see no internal reason for doubting it. He would, therefore, get a few details made clearer and take his leave. + 

“Thank you, M. Boirac. Might I ask a few supplementary questions? At what time did you leave your office on Tuesday?” + 

“About nine-thirty.” + 

“What café did you lunch at in Charenton?” + 

“I don’t remember. It was in a street about halfway between the station and the steamboat wharf, a rather poor place with an overhanging, half-timbered front.” + 

“And what time was that?” + 

“About one-thirty, I think. I am not sure.” + 

“And from where did you telephone to your house and office?” + 

“From the same café.” + 

“About what time?” + 

“About an hour later, say half-past two.” + 

“Now, the café in the Place de la Bastille. Which one was it?” + 

“I am not very certain. I think it was at the corner of the rue St. Antoine. At all events it faced up the rue de Lyon.” + 

“And you were there about what time?” + 

“Eight-thirty, I should say.” + 

“Did you get your bag at the Gare du Nord?” + 

“Yes, it was waiting for me at the left luggage office.” + 

“Did you have a sleeping berth on the train?” + 

“No, I travelled in an ordinary first-class compartment.” + 

“Was there anyone else in it?” + 

“Three other men. I did not know any of them.” + 

“Now, all that day, Tuesday, did you meet anyone who knew you, or who could confirm your statement?” + 

“Not that I can remember, unless the waiters at the cafés could do so.” + 

“On the next day, Wednesday, from where did you telephone to the Hôtel Maximilian?” + 

“From the café where I dined. It was in the Boulevard Anspach, just before it opens into the Place Brouckère. I don’t recall the name.” + 

“What time was the message sent?” + 

“Just before dinner, about seven, I should say.” + 

The detective stood up and bowed. + 

“Well, M. Boirac, accept my thanks for your courtesy. That is all I want to know. Good night, monsieur.” + 

The night being fine, Lefarge walked slowly to his home near the Place de la Bastille. As he paced along he thought over the statement he had just listened to. If it was true, it appeared at first sight entirely to clear M. Boirac from suspicion. If he was in Paris on Monday he could not have sent the letter to Dupierre ordering the statue. That was received on Tuesday morning, and must therefore have been posted in London the previous day. If he was at Brussels and Malines, he obviously could not have met the cask in London. The first thing would therefore be to test the statement by independent inquiries. He reviewed it again in detail, taking a mental note of all the points on which confirmation should be obtainable. + 

First of all, it should be easy to find out whether he really was in Paris up till Tuesday evening. François and the other servants could tell him this with regard to Sunday, Sunday night, and Monday night, and the office staff at the pump manufactory could testify to Monday and Tuesday morning. The servants could also tell whether he unpacked the statue on Monday evening. There was then the question of the time he left his office on Tuesday; that could easily be ascertained. With regard to the restaurant at Charenton, M. Boirac would be a well-dressed and striking luncher at a place in such a locality, and would therefore undoubtedly have been specially noticed. If he really did lunch there, confirmation should be easily obtainable, particularly as the episode of the telephone would further call attention to the visit. The receipt of these telephone messages should also be easy to substantiate, as well as the leaving of the luggage at the Gare du Nord. Confirmation from the Gare du Nord cloakroom attendant, as well as from the waiters in the restaurant in the Place de la Bastille, could hardly be expected, owing to the larger number of strangers these men served, but both places would be worth trying. Inquiries at Malines might prove Boirac’s visit, and certainly would show whether he had a brother there, as well as whether the house was locked up on the day in question. The staff in the Hôtel Maximilian in Brussels would know whether or not he was there on the Wednesday night, and could tell about the receipt of the telephone message booking the room. Finally, it would be worth finding out if Berlioz’s Les Troyens was really given on that evening at the Théâtre de la Monnaie. + 

As Lefarge thought over the matter, he saw that the statement was one which admitted of a good many tests, and he felt that, if it stood those he had enumerated, it might be fully accepted. + 

XIX + 

The Testing of an Alibi + 

The Seine was looking its best on the following morning, as Lefarge boarded an eastbound steamer at the Pont des Artes, behind the Louvre. The day was charming, the air having some of the warmth and colouring of summer, without having lost the clear freshness of spring. As the boat swung out into the current, the detective recalled the last occasion on which he had embarked at this same pier⁠—that on which he and Burnley had gone downstream to Grenelle to call on M. Thévenet at the statuary works. This time the same quest took him in the opposite direction, and they passed round the Ile de la Cité, along the quais, whose walls are topped by the stalls of the book-vendors of the Latin Quarter, past the stately twin towers of Notre Dame, and under the bridge of the Metropolitaine opposite the Gare d’Austerlitz. As they steamed up the broad river the buildings became less and less imposing, till before they had covered the four miles to the suburb of Charenton, where the Marne pours its waters into the Seine, trees and patches of green had begun to appear. + 

Landing at Charenton, which was as far as the steamer went, Lefarge strolled up the street in the direction of the station, looking for a restaurant with an overhanging, half-timbered front. He had not to make a long search. The largest and most pretentious café in the street answered the description and, when he saw telephone wires leading to it, he felt it was indeed the one he sought. Entering, he sat down at one of the small marble-topped tables and called for a bock. + 

The room was fair sized, with a bar at one corner, and a small dancing stage facing the door. But for the detective, it was untenanted. An elderly, white-moustached waiter passed back and forward from some room in the rear. + 

“Pleasant day,” said Lefarge, when this man came over with his bock. “I suppose you don’t get busy till later on?” + 

The man admitted it. + 

“Well, I hear you give a very good lunch, anyway,” continued the detective. “A friend of mine lunched here some days ago and was much pleased. And he’s not so easy to satisfy either.” + 

The waiter smiled and bowed. + 

“We try to do our best, monsieur. It is very gratifying to learn that your friend was satisfied.” + 

“Did he not tell you so? He generally says what he thinks.” + 

“I am not sure that I know your friend, monsieur. When was he here?” + 

“Oh, you’d remember him right enough if you saw him. There he is.” Lefarge took a photograph of Boirac from his pocket and handed it over. + 

“But yes, monsieur. Quite well I remember your friend. But,” he hesitated slightly, “he did not strike me as being so much pleased with the lunch as you suggest. I thought indeed he considered the restaurant not quite⁠—” He shrugged his shoulders. + 

“He was not very well, but he was pleased right enough. It was last Thursday he was here, wasn’t it?” + 

“Last Thursday, monsieur? No, I think it was earlier. Let me see, I think it was Monday.” + 

“I made a mistake. It was not Thursday. I remember now it was Tuesday he said. Was it not Tuesday?” + 

“Perhaps it was, monsieur, I am not certain; though I rather think it was Monday.” + 

“He telephoned to me that day from Charenton⁠—I think he said from here. Did he telephone from here?” + 

“Yes, monsieur, he made two calls. See, there is the telephone. We allow all our patrons to use it.” + 

“An excellent idea. I am sure it is much appreciated. But there was an unfortunate mistake about the message he sent me. It was making an appointment, and he did not turn up. I am afraid I misunderstood what he said. Could you hear the message? Perhaps, if so, you would tell me if he spoke of an appointment on last Tuesday?” + 

The waiter, who up to then had been all smiles and amiability, flashed a suspicious little glance at the detective. He continued to smile politely, but Lefarge felt he had closed up like an oyster in his shell, and when he replied: “I could not hear, monsieur. I was engaged with the service,” the other suspected he was lying. + 

He determined to try a bluff. Changing his manner and speaking authoritatively, though in a lower tone, he said:⁠— + 

“Now, look here, garçon. I am a detective officer. I want to find out about those telephone messages, and I don’t want to have the trouble of taking you to the Sûreté to interrogate you.” He took out a five-franc piece. “If you can tell me what he said, this will be yours.” + 

A look of alarm came into the man’s eyes. + 

“But, monsieur⁠—” he began. + 

“Come now, I am certain you know, and you’ve got to tell. You may as well do it now and get your five francs, as later on at the Sûreté and for nothing. What do you say now? Which is it to be?” + 

The waiter remained silent, and it was obvious to Lefarge that he was weighing his course of action. His hesitation convinced the detective that he really did know the messages, and he determined to strike again. + 

“Perhaps you are doubtful whether I really am from the Sûreté,” he suggested. “Look at that.” + 

He displayed his detective’s credentials, and the sight seemed to bring the other to a decision. + 

“I will tell you, monsieur. He first called up someone that I took to be his valet, and said he was going unexpectedly to Belgium, and that he wanted something left at the Gare du Nord for him⁠—I did not catch what it was. Then he called up some other place and gave the same message, simply that he was going to Belgium for a couple of days. That was all, monsieur.” + 

“That’s all right, garçon. Here’s your five francs.” + 

“A good beginning,” thought the detective, as he left the café and, turning his back on the river, passed on up the street. There could be no doubt that Boirac really had lunched at Charenton as he said. It was true the waiter thought he had been there on Monday, whereas Boirac had said Tuesday, but the waiter was not certain, and, in any case, the mistake would be a very easy one to make. Besides, the point could be checked. He could find out from M. Boirac’s chief clerk and butler on what day they received their messages. + 

He walked to Charenton Station, and took a train to the Gare du Lyon. Hailing a taxi, he was driven to the end of the rue Championnet, the street in which was situated the pump factory of which M. Boirac was managing director. As he left the motor and began strolling down the footpath, he heard the clocks chiming the half-hour after eleven. + 

The pump factory had not a very long frontage on the street, but, glancing in through an open gateway, Lefarge saw that it stretched a long way back. At one side of the gate was a four-story block of buildings, the door of which bore the legend, “Bureau au Deuxième Étage.” The detective strolled past with his head averted, looking round only to make sure there was no other entrance to the works. + 

Some fifty yards or more beyond the factory, on the opposite side of the street, there stood a café. Entering in a leisurely way, Lefarge seated himself at a small marble-topped table in the window, from where he had a good view of the office door and yard gate of the works. Ordering another bock, he drew a newspaper from his pocket and, leaning back in his chair, began to read. He held it carefully at such a level that he could keep an eye over it on the works entrance, while at any moment raising it by a slight and natural movement would screen him from observation from without. So, for a considerable time he sipped his bock and waited. + 

Several persons entered and left the works, but it was not till the detective had sat there nearly an hour and had consumed two more bocks, that he saw what he had hoped for. M. Boirac stepped out of the office door and, turning in the opposite direction, walked down the street towards the city. Lefarge waited for five minutes longer, then, slowly folding up his paper and lighting a cigarette, he left the café. + 

He strolled a hundred yards farther from the works, then crossed and turning, retraced his steps and passed in through the door from which the managing director had emerged. Handing in his private card, he asked for M. Boirac. + 

“I’m sorry, monsieur,” replied the clerk who had come forward, “but he has just gone out. I wonder you didn’t meet him.” + 

“No,” said Lefarge, “I must have missed him. But if his confidential clerk is in, perhaps he could see me instead? Is he here at present?” + 

“I believe so, monsieur. If you will take a seat, I’ll inquire.” + 

In a few moments the clerk returned to say that M. Dufresne was in, and he was shown into the presence of a small, elderly man, who was evidently just about to leave for lunch. + 

“I rather wanted to see M. Boirac himself, monsieur,” said Lefarge, when the customary greetings had passed. “It is on a private matter, but I think I need hardly wait for M. Boirac, as you can probably tell me what I want to know, if you will be so kind. I am, monsieur, a detective officer from the Sûreté”⁠—here he produced his official card⁠—“and my visit is in connection with some business about which we are in communication with M. Boirac. You will readily understand I am not at liberty to discuss its details, but in connection with it he called recently at the Sûreté and made a statement. There were, unfortunately, two points which he omitted to tell us and which we, not then understanding they were relevant, omitted to ask. The matter is in connection with his recent visit to Belgium, and the two points I wanted to ask him are, first, the hour he left the office here on that Tuesday, and second, the hour at which he telephoned to you from Charenton that he was making the journey. Perhaps you can tell me, or would you prefer I should wait and see M. Boirac himself?” + 

The chief clerk did not immediately reply, and Lefarge could see he was uncertain what line he should take. The detective therefore continued:⁠— + 

“Pray do not answer me if you feel the slightest hesitation. I can easily wait, if you would rather.” + 

This had the desired effect and the clerk answered:⁠— + 

“Certainly not, monsieur, if you do not wish to do so yourself. I can answer your questions, or at least one of them. The other I am not so sure of. I received the telephone message from M. Boirac from Charenton at about quarter before three. That I am sure of as I particularly noted the time. As to when M. Boirac left here that morning, I cannot be so definite. He asked me at nine o’clock to draft a rather difficult reply to a letter and to take it in to him when ready. It took me half an hour to compose, as several figures had to be got out to make the matter clear. I took it in at 9:30 and he had then gone.” + 

“That was on the Tuesday, wasn’t it?” + 

“Yes, on the Tuesday.” + 

“And it was on the Friday morning M. Boirac returned?” + 

“That is so, monsieur.” + 

Lefarge rose. + 

“A thousand thanks, monsieur. I am very grateful to you for saving me a long wait.” + 

He left the office and, walking to the Simplon station of the Metropolitaine, took the train for the centre of the town. He was pleased with his progress. As in the earlier stages of the inquiry, information was coming in rapidly. At first he was inclined to think he had already got enough to confirm the first portion of Boirac’s statement, then his training reasserted itself, and he decided to go back to the house in the Avenue de l’Alma, and if possible get François’ corroboration. He therefore alighted at Châtelet and took the Maillot train to Alma, walking down the Avenue. + 

“Ah, M. François,” he began, when the butler opened the door. “Here I am back to trouble you again. Can you spare me a couple of minutes?” + 

“Certainly, monsieur. Come in.” + 

They went to the same small sitting-room and Lefarge produced his Brazilian cigarettes. + 

“How do you like them?” he asked, as the butler helped himself. “Some people think they’re too strong, but they suit me down to the ground. Like strong whiffs, only without the cigar flavour. I won’t keep you a moment. It’s just about that bag of M. Boirac’s you took to the Gare du Nord last Tuesday. Tell me, were you followed to the station?” + 

“Followed, monsieur? I? Why no, certainly not. At least not that I know of.” + 

“Well, did you observe at the left luggage office a rather tall man, dressed in gray and with a red beard?” + 

“No,” he answered, “I saw no one answering to the description.” + 

“At what hour did you leave the bag in?” + 

“About 3:30, monsieur.” + 

Lefarge affected to consider. + 

“Perhaps it’s my mistake,” he said at last. “It was on Tuesday, wasn’t it?” + 

“On Tuesday. Yes, monsieur.” + 

“And M. Boirac sent his telephone call about two, did he not? I think he said about two.” + 

“It was later, monsieur. It was nearer three. But, monsieur, you fill me with curiosity. How, if I may ask, did you know I took Monsieur’s bag to the station?” + 

“He told me last night. He happened to mention he had unexpectedly gone to Belgium, and that you had taken his bag to the left luggage office.” + 

“And the man with the red beard?” + 

Lefarge, having got his information, was not much troubled to justify his little ruse. + 

“One of our detectives. He has been on a case of theft of valuable luggage. I wondered if you had seen him. By the way, did M. Boirac bring back the bag with him? It wasn’t stolen?” + 

Lefarge smiled, and the butler, politely presuming this was meant for a joke, smiled also. + 

“It was not stolen, monsieur. He brought it back all right.” + 

So far so good. M. Boirac had then, beyond any doubt or question, telephoned about 2:45 on Tuesday and had instructed the butler to take his bag to the Gare du Nord, as he had said. Further, he had called there himself and got the bag. So much was certain. But the statement he made of his movements on Sunday and Monday, and the unpacking of the cask on Monday night still remained to be tested. Lefarge spoke again:⁠— + 

“While I’m here, M. François, I wonder would you mind checking one or two dates for my report?” He pulled out his notebook. “I will read out and perhaps you would please say if the items are correct. Saturday, 27th March, the day of the dinner-party.” + 

“Correct, monsieur.” + 

“Sunday, 28th, nothing special occurred. M. Boirac unpacked the cask in the evening.” + 

“That’s not right, monsieur. It was on Monday the cask was unpacked.” + 

“Ah, Monday.” Lefarge pretended to correct his notes. “Monday evening, of course. M. Boirac was at home on Sunday night, but he did not unpack it till Monday. That’s right, I think?” + 

“That’s right.” + 

“Then on Tuesday he went to Belgium, and returned home on Thursday evening?” + 

“Correct, monsieur.” + 

“Thanks very much. I’m glad you noticed that slip. I’ve got it right now, I think.” + 

He remained conversing for a few minutes, making himself agreeable to the old man and telling him some of the adventures he had met with during his career. The more he saw of François, the more he came to respect him, and he felt increasingly certain the old man’s statement was to be believed and that he would not lend himself to anything dishonourable. + 

As if to balance the successes of the morning, during the whole of the afternoon Lefarge drew blank. After leaving the house in the Avenue de l’Alma, he questioned the clerks in the left luggage office at the Gare du Nord. Here he could get no information at all. No one remembered François putting in the bag, nor Boirac claiming it, nor could any record of the bag itself be turned up. Again, in the Place de la Bastille, where he spent some hours interviewing the waiters in the various restaurants, both in the Place itself and close by in the diverging streets, no better luck attended his efforts. He could find no trace of Boirac’s having dined in any of them. + 

All the same, he was well satisfied with his day’s work. The information he had got was definite and valuable, in fact, he thought it conclusively established the truth of Boirac’s statement, at least in as far as Tuesday was concerned. If he could do as well in connection with the Wednesday and Thursday, he thought the manufacturer’s alibi would stand, and his innocence of the murder must then be admitted. + 

To carry on the inquiry, he would have to visit Brussels, and he accordingly telephoned to the Gare du Nord engaging a berth on the 11:20 p.m. sleeping car train that night. Then, after calling up the Sûreté, he turned his steps homewards to dine and have a rest till it was time to start. + 

He made a comfortable journey, and, having breakfasted in one of the cafés in the Place du Nord in Brussels, took an early train to Malines. He presented himself at the post office and asked if he could be directed to the residence of M. Armande Boirac. The clerk knew the name, though he was not certain of the address, but after inquiries at two or three of the principal shops, the detective found one at which M. Boirac dealt. + 

“Yes, monsieur, it’s a good four miles out on the Louvain road. A large white house with a red roof, standing in trees on the right-hand side, immediately beyond a cross roads. But I think M. Boirac is from home, if you wanted to see him.” + 

“I did wish to see him,” returned Lefarge, “but I dare say Mme. Boirac would see me instead.” + 

“I fear she is also away, monsieur. At least, I can only tell you what I know. She came in here about a fortnight ago, indeed, I remember now it was just this day fortnight, and said: ‘Oh, Laroche,’ she said, ‘you need not send anything for two or three weeks, till you hear from me again. We are going away and are shutting up the house.’ So, monsieur, I don’t think you’ll see either of them if you go out.” + 

“I am greatly obliged to you, monsieur. I wonder if you could still further add to your kindness by informing me of M. Boirac’s place of business, where I might get his address. He is in business, I suppose?” + 

“He is a banker, monsieur, and goes frequently to Brussels, but I don’t know in which bank he is interested. But if you go across the street to M. Leblanc, the avocat, I expect he could tell you.” + 

Lefarge thanked the polite shopman and, following his advice, called on the avocat. Here he learned that M. Boirac was one of the directors of a large private bank, the Crédit Mazières, in the Boulevard de la Senne, in Brussels. + 

He was half tempted to return at once to the capital, but a long experience had convinced him of the folly of accepting any statement without investigation. To be on the safe side, he felt he should go out and see for himself if the house was indeed empty. He therefore hired a small car and drove out along the Louvain road. + 

The day was bright and sunny, though with a little sharpness in the air, and Lefarge enjoyed the run through the pleasant Belgian country. He hoped to get his work finished by the afternoon, and, in that case, he would go back to Paris by the night train. + 

About fifteen minutes brought them to the house, which Lefarge immediately recognised from the shopman’s description. A glance showed it was empty. The gates of the avenue were fastened with a padlock and chain, and, through the surrounding trees, the window shutters could be seen to be closed. The detective looked about him. + 

Alongside the road close to the gates were three cottages, occupied apparently by peasants or farm labourers. Lefarge stepped up to the first of these and knocked. + 

“Good morning,” he said, as a buxom, middle-aged woman came to the door. “I have just come from Brussels to see M. Boirac, and I find the house is locked up. Can you tell me if there is a caretaker, or anyone who could tell me where M. Boirac is to be found?” + 

“I am the caretaker, monsieur, but I do not know M. Boirac’s address. All he told me before he left was that any letters sent to the Crédit Mazières in Brussels would be forwarded.” + 

“He has not then been gone long, I suppose?” + 

“A fortnight today, monsieur. He said he would be away three weeks, so if you could call in about a week, you should see him.” + 

“By the way, a friend of mine was to call on him here last week. I am afraid he must have missed him also. You did not see my friend?” He showed her Boirac’s photograph. + 

“No, monsieur, I did not see him.” + 

Lefarge thanked the woman and, having walked round to two or three of the other neighbouring houses and asked the same questions without result, he reentered the car and was driven back to Malines. From there he took the first train to Brussels. + 

It was close on two o’clock when he entered the ornate portal of the Crédit Mazières, of which M. Boirac was a director. The building was finished with extraordinary richness, no expense having been spared in its decoration. The walls of the vast public office were entirely covered with choice marbles⁠—panels of delicate green separated by pilasters and cornice of pure white. The roof rose with a lofty dome of glass which filled the building with a mellow and pleasant light. “No want of money here,” Lefarge thought, as he approached the counter and, handing in his card, asked to see the manager. + 

He had to wait for some minutes, then, following a clerk along a corridor decorated in the same style as the office, he was ushered into the presence of a tall, elderly gentleman with clean-shaven features and raven black hair, who was seated at a large roll-top desk. + 

Having exchanged greetings, Lefarge began:⁠— + 

“I wonder, monsieur, if you would be so very kind as to tell me whether the M. Armande Boirac, who is a member of your board, is the brother of M. Raoul Boirac, the managing director of the Avrotte Pump Construction Company of Paris? I went to Malines this morning to see M. Armande, but he was from home, and I do not wish to spend time in finding out his address and communicating with him, unless he really is the man I seek.” + 

“Our director, monsieur,” replied the manager, “is a brother of M. Raoul. Though I don’t know the latter personally, I have heard our M. Boirac speak of him. I can also give you M. Armande’s present address, if you require it.” + 

“I am exceedingly obliged, monsieur, and should be most grateful for the address.” + 

“It is Hôtel Rydberg, Stockholm.” + 

Lefarge noted it in his book and, with further thanks, left the bank. + 

“Now for the Théâtre de la Monnaie,” he thought. “It is just around the corner.” + 

He crossed the Place de Brouckère, and turned into the Place de la Monnaie. The box office of the theatre was open, and he interviewed the clerk, learning that Berlioz’s Les Troyens was given on the Wednesday night in question, as stated by M. Boirac. But a search for that gentleman’s name through the list of that evening’s bookings was unproductive, though, as the clerk pointed out, this did not mean that he was not present, but only that he had not reserved a seat. + 

Lefarge’s next visit was to be the Hôtel Maximilian. It was a large modern building occupying a complete block of the Boulevard Waterloo, not far from the Porte Louise. A polite clerk came to the bureau window to attend to him. + 

“I am expecting to meet a M. Boirac here,” Lefarge began. “Can you tell me if he is in the hotel?” + 

“M. Boirac?” repeated the clerk, doubtfully, “I do not think we have anyone of that name here at present.” He turned over a card index on the desk. “No, monsieur, he has not come yet.” + 

Lefarge took out a photograph. + 

“That is he,” he said, “a M. Raoul Boirac, of Paris.” + 

“Oh, to be sure,” returned the clerk, “I know that gentleman. He has frequently stayed with us, but he is not here at present.” + 

The detective began to turn over the leaves of his pocketbook as if looking for something. + 

“I hope I haven’t made a mistake in the date,” he said. “He wasn’t here recently by any chance, was he?” + 

“He was here, monsieur, quite lately⁠—last week in fact. He spent one night.” + 

Lefarge made a gesture of annoyance. + 

“I’ve missed him!” he exclaimed. “As sure as fate I’ve missed him. Can you tell me what night he was here?” + 

“Certainly, monsieur.” He turned up some papers. “He was here on Wednesday night, the 31st March.” + 

“I’ve missed him. Now, isn’t that too bad? I must have mistaken the date.” The detective stood apparently considering. + 

“Did he mention my name⁠—Pascal, Jules Pascal?” + 

The clerk shook his head. + 

“Not to me, monsieur.” + 

Lefarge continued, as if to himself:⁠— + 

“He must have come through from Paris that night.” And then to the clerk: “You don’t remember, I suppose, what time he arrived?” + 

“Yes, I do. It was late in the evening, about eleven, I should think.” + 

“Rather a chance coming at that hour, wasn’t it? He might easily have found you full?” + 

“Oh, he had reserved his room. Earlier in the evening he telephoned up from a restaurant in the Boulevard Anspach that he was coming.” + 

“Was that before five? I was to meet him about five.” + 

“Not so early, I think. More like half-past seven or even eight, as well as I can remember.” + 

“Well, I can’t understand it at all. But I mustn’t be wasting your time. I’ll write a note and, if he should turn up again, perhaps you would be kind enough to give it to him? I’m much obliged to you, I’m sure.” + 

Lefarge was an artist in his profession. He never made an impersonation without carrying through the details in the most thorough manner possible. He therefore wrote a note to M. Boirac in an assumed hand, regretting having missed him and carefully explaining some quite imaginary business. Having signed it “Jules Pascal” with a flourish, and left it with the clerk, he took his leave. + 

As he passed out of the Boulevard Waterloo to return to the old town, the clocks were striking six. He had completed his errand and he was tired, though well satisfied with its result. He would rest in a picture house for an hour or two, then have a leisurely dinner and catch the midnight train for Paris. + 

Sitting over his coffee in a quiet corner of one of the large restaurants in the Boulevard du Nord, he reviewed once more M. Boirac’s statement, ticking off in his mind the various items he had been able to check. On Saturday night Madame had disappeared. On Sunday and Sunday night Boirac was at his home. Monday he spent at his office, and that night he was again at home. On that same Monday evening he had unpacked the statue from the cask. Tuesday morning saw him in his office at the usual hour, but he had left again between nine o’clock and half-past. About 1:30 that same day he had lunched at Charenton, and shortly after 2:30 had telephoned to François and to his office. François had taken his bag to the Gare du Nord about 3:30, and Boirac had got it from there, as he had brought it back with him from Belgium. He had telephoned to the Hôtel Maximilian about 7:30 or 8:00 on the Wednesday, and had slept there that night. Next day he had returned to Paris, reaching his house in the evening. Further, it was true that his brother lived at Malines and that his house had been shut up on the Wednesday in question, also that Berlioz’s Les Troyens was given on the night he said. + 

So much was absolute bedrock fact, proved beyond any doubt or question. Lefarge then turned his mind to the portions of Boirac’s statement which he had not been able to verify. + 

He could not tell whether the manufacturer had walked in the Bois de Vincennes before lunching at Charenton, nor if he had gone up the Seine after it. He could not trace his having dined in any of the cafés of the Place de la Bastille. He had not proved that he went to Malines or called at his brother’s house, nor did he know if he had been present at the opera in Brussels. + 

As he considered the matter, he came to the conclusion that in the nature of things he could hardly have expected to confirm these points, and he also decided they were not essential to the statement. All the essentials⁠—Boirac’s presence at Charenton and in Brussels⁠—particularly in Brussels⁠—he had proved up to the hilt. He therefore came to the deliberate conclusion that the pump manufacturer’s statement was true. And if it was true M. Boirac was innocent of the murder, and if he was innocent⁠—Felix⁠ ⁠… + 

Next day he made his report to M. Chauvet at the Sûreté. + 

XX + 

Some Damning Evidence + 

When Burnley left Lefarge on the pier at Boulogne, he felt as if he was losing a well-tried friend. Not only had the Frenchman, by his kindliness and cheerful companionship, made Burnley’s stay in the French capital a pleasant one, but his skill and judgment had been a real asset in the inquiry. + 

And how rapidly the inquiry had progressed! Never before could Burnley recall having obtained so much information on any case in so short a time. And though his work was by no means complete, he was yet within reasonable distance of the end. + 

After an uneventful crossing he reached Folkestone and immediately went to the police station. There he saw the men who had been on duty when the Pas de Calais had berthed on the Sunday in question. But his inquiries were without result. No one resembling either Felix or Mme. Boirac had been observed. + 

He next tried the Customs officials, the porters who had taken the luggage from the boat, and the staff at the Pier Station. No information was forthcoming. + 

“H’m. Means going to Glasgow, I suppose,” he thought and, turning into the telegraph office on the platform he sent a wire:⁠— + 

“Henry Gordon, 327 Angus Lane, Sauchiehall Street, Glasgow. Could you see me if I called at ten tomorrow. Reply Burnley, Scotland Yard.” + 

Then he set off to walk to the Town Station to catch the next train for London. + 

At New Scotland Yard he had an interview with his Chief, to whom he recounted the results of the consultation in the Sûreté, and his movements during the past two days, explaining that he proposed to go on to Glasgow that night if Mr. Gordon could see him the next morning. Then he went home for an hour’s rest. Ten o’clock saw him back at the Yard, where a telegram from Mr. Gordon was awaiting him. “Can see you tomorrow at the hour named.” + 

“So far, so good,” he thought, as he called a taxi and was driven to Euston, where he caught the 11:50 express for the north. He usually slept well in trains, and on this occasion he surpassed himself, only waking when the attendant came round half an hour before they were due in Glasgow. + 

A bath and breakfast at the Central Hotel made him feel fresh and fit as he sallied forth to keep his appointment in Angus Lane, Sauchiehall Street. Ten o’clock was chiming from the city towers as he pushed open the office door of No. 327, which bore the legend, “Mr. Henry Gordon, Wholesale Tea Merchant.” That gentleman was expecting him, and he was ushered into his private room without delay. + 

“Good morning, sir,” he began, as Mr. Gordon, a tall man with small, fair side whiskers, and two very keen blue eyes, rose to meet him. “I am an Inspector from Scotland Yard, and I have taken the liberty of making this appointment to ask your help in an inquiry in which I am engaged.” + 

Mr. Gordon bowed. + 

“Well, sir, and what do you wish me to do?” + 

“To answer a few questions, if you don’t mind.” + 

“I shall be pleased if I am able.” + 

“Thank you. You were in Paris recently, I believe?” + 

“That is so.” + 

“And you stayed at the Hotel Continental?” + 

“I did.” + 

“Can you tell me what day you left to return to England?” + 

“Yes, it was Sunday, the 28th of March.” + 

“You drove, if I am not mistaken, from the hotel to the Gare du Nord in the hotel bus?” + 

“I did.” + 

“Now, Mr. Gordon, can you recollect what, if any, other persons travelled with you in the bus?” + 

The tea merchant did not immediately reply. + 

“I did not specially observe, Mr. Inspector. I am not sure that I can tell you.” + 

“My information, sir, is that three gentlemen travelled by that bus. You were one, and the man I am interested in was another. I am told that he conversed with you, or made at least one remark as you were leaving the bus at the station. Does this bring the circumstance to your mind?” + 

Mr. Gordon made a gesture of assent. + 

“You are correct. I recall the matter now, and the men too. One was small, stout, clean-shaven, and elderly, the other younger, with a black pointed beard and rather foppishly dressed. They were both French, I took it, but the black-bearded man spoke English excellently. He was talkative, but the other hadn’t much to say. Is it the bearded man you mean?” + 

For answer Burnley held out one of Felix’s photographs. + 

“Is that he?” + 

“Yes, that’s the man sure enough. I remember him perfectly now.” + 

“Did he travel with you to London?” + 

“He didn’t travel with me, but he got to London all right, for I saw him twice again, once on the boat and once as I was leaving the station at Charing Cross.” + 

Here was definite evidence anyway. Burnley congratulated himself and felt glad he had not delayed making this visit. + 

“Did he travel alone?” + 

“So far as I know. He certainly started alone from the hotel.” + 

“And he didn’t meet anyone en route that you saw?” + 

“When I saw him on the boat he was talking to a lady, but whether they were travelling together or merely chance acquaintances I couldn’t say.” + 

“Was this lady with him in London?” + 

“Not that I saw. He was talking to a man on the platform as I drove out. A tall young fellow, dark and rather good-looking.” + 

“Would you know this young man again if you saw him?” + 

“Yes, I think so. I got a good look at his face.” + 

“I should be obliged if you would describe him more fully.” + 

“He was about five feet eleven or six feet in height, rather thin and athletic looking. He had a pale complexion, was clean-shaven except for a small black moustache, and was rather French looking. He was dressed in some dark clothes, a brown overcoat, I fancy, but of that I’m not sure. I imagined he was meeting your friend, but I had really no definite reason to think so.” + 

“Now, the lady, Mr. Gordon. Can you describe her?” + 

“No, I’m afraid I can’t. She was sitting beside him and I did not see her face.” + 

“Can you tell how she was dressed?” + 

“She wore a reddish brown fur coat, sable, I fancy, though I’m not certain.” + 

“And her hat? You didn’t notice anything special about that.” + 

“No, nothing.” + 

“It hadn’t, for example, a wide brim?” + 

“A wide brim? Not that I noticed. But it may have had.” + 

“Was it windy where they were sitting?” + 

“Every place was windy that day. It was an abominable crossing.” + 

“So that if it had had a wide brim, the lady would have had difficulty in keeping it on?” + 

“Possibly,” replied Mr. Gordon a trifle dryly, “but you probably can form an opinion on that as well as I.” + 

Burnley smiled. + 

“We Scotland Yard people like to know everything,” he said. “And now, Mr. Gordon, I have to express my thanks for your courtesy and help.” + 

“That’s all right. Would it be indiscreet to ask the reason of these queries?” + 

“Not at all, sir, but I fear I am not at liberty to give you much information. The man with the pointed beard is suspected of having decoyed a French lady over to England and murdered her. But, you will understand, it is so far only a matter of suspicion.” + 

“Well, I should be interested to hear how it turns out.” + 

“I am afraid you will hear, sir. If this man is tried, I expect your evidence will be required.” + 

“Then for both our sakes I hope your case will not go on. Good day, Mr. Burnley. Glad to have met you.” + 

There being nothing to keep him in Glasgow, the Inspector returned to the Central and took the midday London express. As it thundered southwards across the smiling country, he thought over the interview he had just had. He could not help marvelling again at the luck that had pursued his efforts ever since the inquiry began. Nearly everyone he had interviewed had known at least something, if not always exactly what he wanted. He thought how many thousands of persons crossed the Channel each week whose journey it would be absolutely impossible to trace, and here, in the one instance that mattered, he had found a man who had been able to give him the very information he needed. Had Felix not gone in the bus, had Mr. Gordon not been so observant, had the circumstances not fallen out precisely as they did, he might never have ascertained the knowledge of Felix’s movements that day. And the same applied all through. Truly, if he did not get a complete case it would be his own fault. + 

And yet the evidence was unsatisfactory. It was never conclusive. It had a kind of thus-far-and-no-farther quality which always pointed to a certain thing, but stopped short of certainty. Here there was a strong presumption that Mme. Boirac had crossed with Felix, but no proof. It might, however unlikely, have been someone else. Nearly all the evidence he had got was circumstantial, and he wanted certainty. + 

His mind switched over to the case itself. He felt the probability of Felix’s guilt had been somewhat strengthened. Mr. Gordon’s statement was entirely consistent with that hypothesis. One would naturally expect the journey to be carried out just as it had been. In Paris, the lovers would be careful not to be seen together. At a station like the Gare du Nord, where acquaintances of both might easily be present, they would doubtless ignore each other’s existence. On the boat they would probably risk a conversation, particularly as the deck was almost deserted owing to the weather, but in London, especially if Felix expected someone to meet him, they would follow their Paris plan and leave the station separately. Yes, it certainly worked in. + 

The Inspector lit one of his strong cigars and gazed with unseeing eyes at the flying landscape as he continued his ruminations. On arrival in London what would be their next step? Felix, he expected, would shake off his friend, meet Madame at some prearranged spot, and in all probability take her to St. Malo. Then he recalled that the housekeeper had been granted a holiday, and they would doubtless arrive to find a house without food or fire, empty and cheerless. Therefore would they not go to an hotel? He thought it likely, and he began to plan a possible future step, a visit to all the probable hotels. But while speculating on the best to begin with, it occurred to him that if Felix had really committed the murder, it must, almost certainly, have been done at St. Malo. He could not conceive it possible at a hotel. Therefore probably they did go to the villa after all. + 

He went a step further. If the murder had taken place at St. Malo, the cask must have been packed there. He recalled the traces this operation had left in Boirac’s study. Surely some similar indications must have been left at the villa? If the cask had stood on a carpet or even possibly a linoleum, he might expect marks of the ring. And if not, there was the sawdust. He did not believe every trace of sawdust could have been removed. + 

It had been his intention in any case to search the house, and he took a mental note when doing so to look with special care for any such traces. This search, he decided, should be his next business. + 

On the following morning, therefore, he set out for St. Malo with his assistant, Sergeant Kelvin. As they drove, he explained the theory about the unpacking of the cask, and pointed out what, if this had been done, they might expect to find. + 

The house was empty as, owing to Felix still being in the hospital, the housekeeper’s leave had been extended. Burnley opened the door with a key from Felix’s bunch and the two men entered. + 

Then took place a search of the most meticulous thoroughness. Burnley began in the yard and examined each of the outhouses in turn. These had concrete floors and marks of the cask itself were not to be expected, but they were carefully brushed and the sweepings examined with a powerful lens for traces of sawdust. All their contents were also inspected, Felix’s two-seater, which was standing in the coach-house, receiving its full share of attention. Then the searchers moved to the house, one room after another being gone over in the same painstaking way, but it was not till they were doing Felix’s dressing-room, that Burnley made his first discovery. + 

Several of Felix’s suits were hanging in a press, and in the right-hand side pocket of one of the coats⁠—that of a blue lounge suit⁠—there was a letter. It was crumpled and twisted, as if thrust carelessly into the pocket. Burnley did not at first notice anything interesting or important about it, till, reading it for the second time, it flashed across his mind that here, perhaps, was the very thing for which they had been searching⁠—the link in that chain of evidence against Felix which up to then had been missing. + 

The letter was written on a sheet of rather poor quality notepaper in a woman’s hand, rather uneducated both as to calligraphy and diction⁠—such a letter, thought Burnley, as might be written by a barmaid or waitress or shopgirl. There was no water or other distinctive mark on it. It bore no address, and ran as follows:⁠— + 

My Dearest Léon.⁠—It is with a heavy heart I take up my pen to write these few lines. What has happened to you, dearest? Are you ill? If you are, I will come out to you, no matter what happens. I can’t go on without you. I waited in all yesterday hoping you would come, same as I waited in all the Sunday before, and every night of the week, but you didn’t come. And the money is nearly done, and Mrs. Hopkins says if I can’t pay next week I’ll have to go. I’ve sometimes thought you were tired of me and weren’t going to come back at all, and then I thought you weren’t that sort, and that you were maybe ill or away. But do write or come, for I can’t go on any longer without you. + 

When Burnley glanced over this melancholy epistle it seemed at first merely to indicate that Felix was no better than he might be, and it was not till he had read it again that its immense significance struck him. What if this paper supplied the motive of the murder? What if it had opened to Mme. Boirac a chapter in Felix’s life which otherwise would have remained closed, and which he intended should remain closed? As Burnley thought over it he believed he could at least dimly reconstruct the scene. Felix and Madame had arrived at St. Malo, and then in some way, by some act of extraordinary carelessness on Felix’s part, she got hold of the letter. A quarrel would be inevitable. What would Felix do? Probably first snatch the letter from her and thrust it into his pocket out of sight. Then, perhaps, try to pacify the angry lady, and, finding this impossible, the quarrel would get worse and worse till finally in a paroxysm of passion he would seize her throat and choke out her life. The murder committed, he would be so upset that he would quite probably forget all about the letter. The oversights of criminals were notorious. + 

The more the Inspector considered the matter, the more likely his theory seemed. But here again he had to recognise it was entirely surmise. No proof that this had taken place was forthcoming. It was another case of the thus-far-and-no-farther evidence he had been deploring in the train. At all events it suggested another line of inquiry. This girl must be found and the relations between her and Felix gone into. Burnley foresaw much arduous work in front of him. + 

At length he put the letter away in his notebook, and the search continued. Finally, as it was beginning to get dusk, every room had been done except the study where Felix and the Inspector had had their midnight discussion. + 

“I think we had better come back tomorrow,” said Burnley. “There’s no use in searching by lamplight.” + 

Accordingly, the next morning saw them again at work. They crawled over the floor so as to get every part of the carpet between themselves and the light, but could find no impressions. They peered with their lenses in the pile of the carpet, they felt between the arms and seats of the padded leathern chairs, all to no purpose. And then Burnley made his second discovery. + 

Between the study and the dining-room adjoining there was a door, evidently unused, as it was locked and the key was gone. On the study side this door was covered by a heavy curtain of dark-green plush. In front of the curtain, and standing with its back to it, was a small chair whose low, leather-padded back formed a half-circle with the arms. In his anxiety to leave no part of the carpet unexamined, Burnley had moved this chair aside. + 

As he stooped at the place where the chair had been, a bright object sticking to the curtain caught his eye. He looked more closely. A small, slightly bent, gold safety-pin, bearing a tiny row of diamonds, was caught in the braid at the top of the hem. The point had not penetrated, and the pin fell to the floor when Burnley touched the plush. + 

He picked it up. + 

“That’s rather a fine thing even for a natty boy like Felix,” he said as he showed it to Kelvin. And then he stood quite still as it flashed across his mind that here, perhaps, was another link in the chain that was being forged about Felix⁠—a link possibly even more important than any of the foregoing. What if it did not belong to Felix at all? It looked too dainty and delicate for a man’s use. What if it was a lady’s? And, most important question of all, what if that lady was Mme. Boirac? If this proved true, his case was complete. + 

Dropping into the armchair he had occupied on the occasion of his midnight interview with Felix, he considered the possibilities opened up by his new discovery, endeavouring to evolve some theory of how a pin or brooch belonging to the deceased lady could have been dropped where he found this one. As he did so, a picture of what might have happened gradually grew in his mind. First, he thought it likely that a lady in evening dress would wear such a pin, and it might easily be at her neck or shoulder. And if she had sat in that chair with her back to the curtain, and anyone had caught her by the throat and forced her head backwards, what could be more likely than that the pin should be pulled out in the struggle? And if it were pulled out it almost certainly would drop where or whereabouts he found it. + 

The Inspector recognised again that this was all surmise, but it was strengthened by the fact that the pin was undoubtedly bent as if it had been pulled out of something without being unhooked. The more he thought over it the more likely his idea seemed. At all events it would be easy to test it. Two points suggested themselves to his mind which would settle it conclusively. First, if the pin were Madame’s, the maid Suzanne would recognise it. The arrangement of the diamonds made it quite distinctive. The girl would also know if Madame wore it on the night of the dinner-party. Secondly, if it were pulled out of Madame’s dress, the latter would probably be torn or at least marked. Both these points could easily be ascertained, and he decided he would write to Paris about them that night. + 

He put the brooch into a pocket case, and, getting up, resumed his search of the study. For a time he pursued his labours without result, and then he made another discovery which struck him as being of even greater importance than that of the pin. He had completed his examination of the furniture, and now, for over an hour, had been seated at Felix’s desk going through drawer after drawer, reading old letters and examining the watermarks of papers and the alignment of typewritten documents. Felix evidently had some of the defects of the artistic temperament, for his papers were jumbled together without any attempt at filing or classification⁠—accounts, receipts, invitations, engagements, business letters⁠—all were thrust higgledy-piggledy into the first drawer that came handy. But Burnley had methodically gone through everyone without finding anything of interest. None of the papers had the watermark of that ordering the statue from Dupierre, none of the typewriting had the defective letters of that ostensibly from Le Gautier to Felix. The Inspector had just reflected that he had only to go through the half-dozen shelves of books and his work would be done, when he made his third find. + 

On the desk lay a number of sheets of blotting paper folded pamphlet-wise, it being evidently Felix’s custom to blot his wet papers between two of the leaves. Following his usual routine, the Inspector fetched a mirror from the bathroom, and with its aid examined the sheets from each edge in turn. At the fourth of these sheets he stopped suddenly with a little gesture of triumph, for there, clearly revealed in the mirror, were some words he had seen before:⁠— + 

.s ....s th. .... s.c. .. ... l... .. t.. ...... + 

.le... fo.wa.. ..med....ly to ..e ..ove .dd.ess. + 

I do ..t kn.w th. e.a.t pric., but ..der.t..d .t is about 1,500 francs. I therefore enclose notes for that + 

It was the bottom of the first page of the letter ordering the statue from Dupierre! Here was certainty: here, at last, proofs of the most complete kind! Felix had ordered the statue and like a fool had blotted his letter and omitted to destroy the blotsheet! + 

The Inspector chuckled with content at his find. Felix had ordered the statue. That was now certain. And if he had done so he was responsible for its first journey, and therefore undoubtedly for its second and third. In fact, it was now evident he had arranged all the movements of the cask, and, if so, he must unquestionably have put in the body, and if he put in the body he must be the murderer. + 

Then there was the further point about the paper. The paper on which this letter had been written was the same as that on which the letter about the lottery and the bet was typed. Felix had stated he had received this letter by post, but at the discussion in M. Chauvet’s office the probability that he himself was the author had been recognised. This probability was now strengthened by finding he had had in his possession the peculiar French paper which had been used. + 

Truly these three discoveries, the letter signed “Your heartbroken Emmie,” the bent brooch on the curtain, and the telltale impression on the blotting paper seemed to the Inspector entirely to settle the question of Felix’s guilt. + 

On the other hand he had failed to find any trace of the unpacking of the cask, and his search had been so thorough that he almost felt impelled to the conclusion that it had not been there at all. And then a possible explanation struck him. Suppose Felix had got a cart and brought the cask to St. Malo, intending to remove it again the following morning. Where would he put it for the night? It was too heavy to move by himself, and he would want to have a helper. What then would he do? Why, leave it on the cart, of course! His obvious plan would be to stable the horse and open the cask where it stood⁠—on the cart. And if he dropped some sawdust in the process, the wind would see to that. There would be none left now. + 

He felt sure he was on the right track, and then he had a further idea. If a horse were stabled at the villa all night, some traces should surely be visible. He went to the yard again and began a new quest. But this time he had no luck. He was forced to conclude no horse had been kept. + 

The possibility that the carter might have left his vehicle and taken the horse away with him for the night next occurred to him, but he thought that unlikely, and left the question undecided in the meantime. + 

On his return to Scotland Yard, the Chief heard his story with close attention, and was much impressed by his discoveries. He gave his views at some length, ending up:⁠— + 

“We shall send the pin over to Paris and see if that girl identifies it. Indeed, whether or not, I think we have a sufficient case against Felix to go into court. By the way, I don’t think I told you I sent a man to his firm, the poster people, and found that he was absent on holidays during the week the cask was travelling backwards and forwards to Paris. This, of course, is not evidence against him, but it works in with our theory.” + 

Two days later a wire came from M. Chauvet:⁠— + 

“Suzanne Daudet identifies pin as Madame’s property.” + 

“That settles it,” said the Chief, and a warrant was made out for Felix’s arrest, so soon as he should be well enough to leave the hospital. + 