The Double Alibi

by Noel Vindry

  ‘If you were under my orders,’ growled Sallent, ‘I’d send you back to your post smartly.’

  ‘Maybe, but that’s not the case. Try to open the door.’

  The superintendent inserted one of the picklocks, manipulated it for a few seconds and smiled in satisfaction: the latch moved.

  ‘Let’s hope it’s not bolted,’ he murmured.

  The door opened and, luckily, didn’t creak. The two men entered.

  The darkness was total and there was no possibility of making out any shapes. They stood where they were and concentrated hard. Not a sound could be heard.

  The superintendent switched on his electric torch and swept the beam around the room.

  They were in a vestibule, from which led three doors, currently shut: one to the left, one to the right, and another to the rear, next to the foot of the stairs.

  They opened the left abruptly and saw a dining room sparsely furnished: a table, a few chairs, and a small sideboard. Nobody could hide in there.

  Next was a salon with a couple of rustic sofas and nowhere to hide.

  Finally, to the rear, was the kitchen, equally bare.

  Each time, they took a few steps into the room to make sure the shutters were indeed properly fastened from the inside by hooks.

  ‘There are still two floors above us,’ whispered the superintendent. ‘Luckily they all follow the same plan. With every room opening onto a central vestibule, there’s no chance of anyone escaping without being seen during our visit.’

  They went up to the first floor, which was, as the superintendent had said, laid out in the same fashion. Whilst one man went in to a room the other stood in the doorway, making any to-and-fro impossible.

  The work was harder because the rooms were fully furnished with beds and wardrobes which had to be examined.

  One of the rooms had recently been inhabited: there was a smell of tobacco and the bed sheets had been slightly disturbed.

  It was the only interesting clue they discovered. Everywhere, the shutters were firmly secured.

  On the second floor and the attic, the inspection proved equally fruitless.

  ‘We’re going to have to look at the roof,’ said Sallent.

  ‘That won’t be necessary. Look, the skylight is padlocked.’

  The superintendent, ever suspicious, shook the padlock vigorously.

  ‘You’re right, he couldn’t have got up there. Someone’s been making fun of us.’

  ‘Not necessarily. Allevaire needs to eat; he may well have an accomplice in the village, but he daren’t go there in the daylight. He could well have left and will return later.’

  ‘That’s true. We can wait for him in the house.’

  ‘Not prudent.’

  ‘Well, that’s a surprise, coming from you.’

  ‘You don’t understand. We might wait in vain. He’s a wily fox, as you know. He could have placed some kind of marker on the door and will know immediately he arrives that someone has opened it. Then, obviously, he won’t come in.’

  ‘Dammit, you’re right. We’ll have to lie in wait outside. On the way down, we’ll need to check again, just to be sure. Suppose he came back while we were upstairs?’

  ‘With the door he’d have found open? Hardly likely. It’s best to get out of here as soon as possible.’

  ‘You never know. Hiding somewhere that’s already been searched isn’t all that stupid. He might think it the safest place to be. And it’s quickly done.’

  They’d been careful not to close the cupboard doors or move back any displaced furniture, so the inspection was rapid: it was enough to give a glance from the doorway—and, obviously, look behind the door and under the bed if need be.

  The house was just as empty as it had been before. That was absolutely certain.

  ‘You see,’ said Sallent. ‘It only took five minutes and our conscience is clear.’

  They found themselves once again outside. The superintendent was careful to close the front door. In fact, he only needed to pull it, and it locked itself automatically.

  ‘That’s not necessary,’ observed M. Allou.

  ‘It’s a matter of principle. Always leave things as you found them. Hell’s bells, the rain’s getting heavier. I should have brought a coat.’

  ‘Me too. But it was so hot when we left.’

  The superintendent gave a low whistle. The signal was enough for Proto, who appeared a few moments later.

  ‘Did you see anything?’ asked Sallent.

  ‘Nothing at all. And you?’

  ‘Nothing either. There’s no point in you staying at the rear of the house. He can’t get in through any of the windows, because all the shutters are locked.’

  Clermon appeared and approached the group.

  ‘He wasn’t inside?’ he asked.

  ‘No, but we’re hoping he comes back.’

  ‘Are you going to wait?’

  ‘All night, if necessary.’

  ‘Well, I’ll leave you to it. It’s raining too hard. I’m going back to my car to sleep a little. You can join me later if you’re empty-handed. But you’re going to catch your death of cold…’

  ‘The job’s the job,’ replied Sallent.

  ‘True. By the way, there’s a small tool shed which I discovered ten metres from here, under the trees on this side. Goodnight.’

  ‘Goodnight.’

  Clermon left. The rain came down even harder.

  ‘Bloody weather,’ grumbled the superintendent.

  ‘It’s all the same to me,’ said Proto.

  Sallent touched him with his hand, for he was scarcely visible.

  ‘You’ve a leather coat, for heaven’s sake. Very clever.’

  ‘Are you reproaching me again?’

  ‘Be quiet. We mustn’t talk. Let’s move away from the door. Five metres. They won’t see us. And silence!’

  But he immediately set a bad example, leaning over towards M. Allou.

  ‘I’m shivering. How about you?’

  ‘The same.’

  ‘You’re going to catch pneumonia. Go to that shed.’

  ‘No, Sallent, I’m staying with you.’

  ‘That’s silly. Why? Seven metres more and you’d still get to the man at the same time as us.’

  ‘I’d be afraid all alone.’

  Sallent shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘That’s silly,’ he repeated. ‘There’s no reason for you to get wet, just because I do. How does it help if we both get soaked?’

  ‘What you say makes sense, Sallent. So, go to the shed. That way, we won’t both get soaked.’

  ‘I’m used to it.’

  ‘And I’m used to sharing my companion’s lot.’

  ‘No offence, but you’re as stubborn as a mule. So be it, I’ll go to the shed. After all, ten metres isn’t far. I can react swiftly. Are you coming with me?’

  ‘Yes. On second thoughts, the distance won’t count for much. And Proto can signal the man’s arrival.’

  ‘He can stay outside,’ grunted Sallent. ‘He’s got a leather coat, after all.’

  He went over to the inspector, standing on the other side of the door.

  ‘We’ll be in the little shed,’ he informed him. ‘Don’t be afraid, we’ll only be ten metres away.’

  ‘I’m not afraid!’

  ‘Very well. We won’t be able to see Allevaire when he reaches the door. Don’t wait for him to try and open it, just switch on your torch, that’ll be the signal. We can be there in a few seconds. And if he tries to run away… too bad, I’ll fire. He did the same thing last night.’

  ‘Right, superintendent, sir.’

  ‘Can you be sure to pick him out in the dark? I’ll stand by the door and you tell me if you can see me. I’m wearing dark clothes, so that’ll be a good test.’

  ‘I can distinguish you perfectly clearly,’ said Proto.

  ‘So any distraction would be inexcusable, is that clear?’

  ‘Perfectly. You can count on me. By the way,
in case of danger… may I fire as well?’

  ‘Yes, but not out of panic. Goodnight.’

  And Sallent disappeared into the night.

  ***

  A few minutes later, M. Allou and the superintendent were in the tool shed.

  ‘It’s certainly better here,’ said Sallent.

  ‘Yes, but poor Proto out there alone must be scared stiff.’

  ‘That’s too bad. He shouldn’t have brought a coat. But quiet! Can I hear someone walking?’

  ‘You’re dreaming, my poor Sallent. It’s only water dripping from the branches.’

  ‘So it is. But it’s best we don’t talk, in any case.’

  M. Allou leant back against one side of the shed and tried to take a nap. But, after a quarter of an hour, he felt Sallent tug on his arm and heard him murmur:

  ‘Look.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘The house.’

  ‘I can’t see anything.’

  ‘On the first floor.’

  M. Allou stared hard, but could see nothing.

  ‘Wait… There! Did you see that?’

  There had indeed been a brief flicker of light behind one of the shutters.

  ‘That’s the third time,’ continued the superintendent. ‘There’s someone in the house. In the room with the sheets on the bed.’

  ‘Right. What’s happening?’

  ‘Not hard to guess. He’s collecting his stuff before skipping out.’

  ‘Who?’

  ‘Allevaire, for heaven’s sake!’

  ‘How did he get in?’

  ‘Through the door. Proto must have gone off to hide somewhere. Come along. We’ll take a look. Quietly!’

  They advanced on tiptoe. Thanks to the wet ground they were able to walk in absolute silence. (And, in any case, the rain was falling so heavily it would have masked even a fairly loud noise.)

  As they approached, Sallent was able to make out a silhouette against the house wall. So Proto was indeed at his post. But was he watching seriously?

  He certainly was, for the superintendent was still some way from the door when he found himself bathed in a beam of light. It lasted only a moment as Proto recognised him immediately.

  ‘What’s happening, superintendent, sir?’

  ‘You’ve let someone get in!’

  ‘I assure you I haven’t. I would have seen him, just as I saw you. There’s nobody, I swear. Unless they got in at the back.’

  ‘Impossible, the shutters are firmly secured. We’ll see.’

  Once again the superintendent used the picklock to open the door without the slightest noise. Proto and M. Allou slid in behind him.

  Silently they climbed the stairs and arrived in front of the door of the room where the light had shone. Sallent tried to peer through the keyhole, but realised that the key from the other side blocked it completely. So, in one swift movement, he opened the door and switched on his torch.

  Someone was there but, unfortunately, too close. Before the commissionaire had the chance to see him, the man brought a hard object down on his hand. The torch fell to the floor and went out.

  Sallent lunged in the direction of the blow, but although his hand brushed against some clothing, he was unable to grab hold of it.

  As soon as the door had opened, M. Allou and Proto had rushed into the room with their torches lit. Too late! The beams, badly directed at first, could only catch a form disappearing through the wall to their left, where there was a communicating door to the adjacent room.

  M. Allou rushed towards it, assuming that Proto or Sallent would go to the vestibule and cut off the man’s escape.

  Unfortunately, Sallent was at that moment facing the wall to the right and hadn’t seen anything. He only understood what had happened when M. Allou reached the other room. It was too late; the fugitive had already reached the landing.

  Sallent leapt towards the sound of the closing door. Without a light, he could only listen to someone racing down the stairs. He threw himself after them; luckily M. Allou joined him and shone his torch downwards.

  But, halfway down, the staircase turned, and the man was already outside the beam of light.

  The two men descended until their torches illuminated the downstairs vestibule. At the far end a man was running, framed by the front door, which was partly open.

  Sallent fired. But at the last instant, he must have had scruples about shooting an unarmed man in the back, for the shot went high.

  At the sound of the report, the fugitive instinctively turned and the light fully illuminated his face. It was undoubtedly Allevaire!

  But, at the same time, he slid behind the half-open door into the night. When the three men—for Proto had now joined them—reached the garden, nobody could be seen.

  Chapter XVI

  RIDDLES

  There was no point in contemplating pursuit in the dense, bushy garden; Allevaire knew all the paths, whereas the three men could distinguish nothing in the total darkness. And the fugitive’s footsteps would be covered by the rain pattering in the branches.

  ‘Well, that’s that,’ said Sallent. ‘But now for the explanations.’

  He went back inside and closed the door.

  He found an oil lamp in the salon and lit it.

  ‘Come in, gentlemen,’ he called out.

  M. Allou and Proto joined him.

  ‘Sit down, M. Proto. Let’s not waste any time. Can you tell me what just happened?’

  ‘I can only think of one explanation, chief: the man got in through one of the windows.’

  ‘Impossible. All the shutters were bolted when we first visited the house.’

  ‘Apparently, at least, superintendent, sir. Perhaps one of the hooks wasn’t properly embedded in the wall, so that the shutter could simply be pushed in from the outside?’

  ‘Very well, let’s examine that theory immediately.’

  Sallent’s icy tone was more disquieting than any angry outburst.

  ‘Let’s examine the shutters,’ he continued. ‘Starting with this room.’

  He flung wide all the windows.

  ‘But come closer, M. Proto, I beg you. Look for yourself. Does this hook look loosely embedded to you?’

  And the superintendent shook it with all his force.

  ‘Try it yourself. Does it move? No? Try the next one. Still no? Maybe the next. Shake it, shake it!’

  And the superintendent, expressionless, dragged Proto from room to room, repeating the same procedure each time.

  ‘Everything secure, Proto? Are you sure? Let’s go up to the first floor.’

  ‘Oh, that won’t be necessary.’

  ‘But yes. He could have used a ladder. We have to check everything.’

  At each floor, the result was the same. They went back downstairs and the superintendent sat down again.

  ‘So, M. Proto, your theory was not correct. The only way in was though the door. Do you see any other solution?’

  ‘Yes. There was a hiding place or a secret passage, maybe a cave?’

  ‘Perfect. Look for them, M. Proto, look for them. Take your time. There’s wood in the fireplace, I’m going to light a fire so that I can dry out.’

  For over an hour, they could hear the inspector banging on the walls and partitions with his huge fists.

  Eventually he reappeared in the salon.

  ‘No,’ he said. ‘There’s nothing to be found.’

  ‘Well, well. Another theory to be rejected.’

  ‘Did you check everything, chief? The beds, the wardrobes?’

  ‘Rest assured, my lad. Twice, even. Once going up and once coming down. I even thought about the roof. There was nobody in the house when we left. But afterwards, there was someone. Do we agree on that?’

  ‘Obviously. I’ve seen with my own eyes.’

  ‘So, can you tell me how he got in?’

  ‘I give up.’

  ‘But you do agree it must have been through the door?’

  ‘Listen, chief. It appe
ars to be obvious yet, at the same time, impossible.’

  ‘Obvious, yes, but why impossible?’

  ‘Because I would have seen him.’

  ‘There’s the whole question, M. Proto.’

  The inspector stood up and declared in an indignant voice:

  ‘Chief, I won’t permit anyone to doubt me, not even you. In any case, you know I was at my post: I saw you when you appeared.’

  ‘Yes, you were there then.’

  ‘I didn’t move one centimetre!’

  M. Allou intervened.

  ‘Listen, old chap, anyone can be negligent for a moment, even me. But we keep it between ourselves, after a good dressing-down by the boss. But the superintendent is no snitch, I can assure you. He may say a few harsh things, but he won’t repeat them in Bordeaux. Isn’t that right, superintendent?’

  ‘I promise,’ grunted Sallent, who obeyed M. Allou without question.

  ‘You see? Because he’s not your usual boss, there’ll be no record of this. But things will go very badly for you if our investigation goes astray because you persisted in hiding the truth. Do you understand?’

  ‘Superintendent, sir,’ said Proto, ‘I trust what you said. If I had committed an error, I would have told you. But I swear I wasn’t distracted for a single moment. On the contrary, I wanted to rehabilitate myself in your eyes and at the same time those of the Bordeaux police, which I’m honoured to belong to. So I watched very diligently. I hoped to arrest the man myself. He never came near the door.’

  ‘Very well, let’s get out of here. Our clothes are dry and there’s nothing more to be done.’

  Outside the rain had stopped. They set off in the direction of the car.

  The superintendent let Proto lead the way and murmured in M. Allou’s ear:

  ‘I wouldn’t want to accuse you lightly,’ he said, ‘but am I right in thinking you believed his protests?’

  ‘Let’s not exaggerate. I’m not sure that Proto abandoned his post, and I’m not sure that he didn’t.’

  ‘If he was telling the truth, then we’re all mad!’ exclaimed Sallent.

  ‘Maybe… But that’s a solution I’ll only admit as a last resort.’

  ‘Can you think of another one?’