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 till at least 11.30, and there is reason to believe, though not proof, till 1 a.m. 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.
CHAPTER 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.’
&nbs
p; ‘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 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 every one 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 “Good-bye,” 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 a.m. 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?’
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