against the window, watching the passers-by.
"Fandor, come and see! By the omnibus, there. The person who is going to
cross."
The journalist burst out:
"Well, I'm damned!"
"You see, Fandor, you must never swear to anything."
"Well, ain't we going to catch and arrest her?"
"Why? Do you think her being in this street is due to chance? Look, she
is crossing; she is coming straight here. She is entering the house. I
tell you in a few moments Josephine will have climbed my stairs and will
be seated cosily in this armchair, which I get ready and set full in the
light."
Fandor could not get over his astonishment.
"Did you make an appointment with her?"
"Not at all."
Jean, the detective's servant, came into the room and announced:
"There is a lady waiting in the sitting-room. She would not give her
name."
"Show her in, Jean."
A few moments later Josephine entered.
"Good day, Mademoiselle," cried Juve in a cordial tone. "What fresh news
have you to tell us?"
Loupart's mistress stood in the middle of the room, somewhat taken
aback. But Juve set her at ease.
"Sit down, Josephine. You mustn't mind my friend Fandor. He has just
been telling me about your friend Dixon."
"You know him, sir?"
"A little," said Fandor. "And you, Mademoiselle, have been seeing
something of him lately?"
"I happened to meet him at the 'Crocodile.'"
"And took a liking to him?"
"We took a liking to each other." She turned to Juve. "I suppose you
distrust me for giving you the slip with another man?"
Juve smiled. "You found a good companion and forgot us. There is really
nothing to be angry about. Now, won't you tell us what brings you here?"
"Yes, but M. Juve, you must swear to me that you will never repeat what
I am going to tell you."
"It is very serious then?"
"M. Juve, I am going to put you in the way of arresting Loupart."
"You are very kind, my dear Josephine, but if the attempt is to succeed
no better than that we made at the 'Crocodile'----"
"No, no, this time you'll be sure to nab him. Day after to-morrow at 2
o'clock, Loupart is going with some of his gang to Nogent, 7 Rue des
Charmilles. He has a job there under way."
Juve laughed. "They've been fooling you, Josephine. Isn't that your
view, Fandor? Do you think that Loupart would try a stroke in broad
daylight?"
Josephine gave more details, eager to persuade him.
"There will be fifteen of them outside a little house whose tenants are
away. Some of them will make a crowd to help their mates in case of
danger. The Beard is to be in it, too."
"And Loupart?"
"Yes, Loupart, I tell you. He will wear a black mask by which you can
identify him."
"Very well, if we have nothing better to do we will take a trip to
Nogent day after to-morrow; eh, Fandor?"
"As you like, Juve."
"Only, remember this, my dear Josephine, if you are putting up a game on
us you'll be sorry for it. There is a way, to be sure, in which you can
prove your good faith. Be at Nogent Station at half-past one. If we find
Loupart where you say he will be, we shall arrest him; if we don't find
him----"
The detective paused, significantly.
"You will nab him. Only we mustn't look as if we met by appointment. No
one must suspect that I gave you the tip."
Hereupon, Josephine started to go. Her manoeuvre had succeeded, and
Loupart's business would go ahead safely. She turned at the door and
nodded, looking at Fandor.
"Another thing; Loupart doesn't love you; you had better be on your
guard."
Juve turned thoughtfully to Fandor:
"Strange! Is this woman playing with us, or is she in earnest, and how
she looked at you when telling us to be on our guard!"
XXIV
A MYSTERIOUS CLASP
"Hullo! Hullo!"
Waking with a start, Juve rushed to the telephone. It was already broad
daylight, but the detective had gone to bed very late and had been
sleeping profoundly.
"Yes, it's I, Juve. The Sûreté? It's you, M. Havard? Yes, I am free. Oh!
That's strange. No signs? I understand. Count on me. I'll go there and
keep you informed."
Juve dressed in haste, went down to the street and hailed a taxi.
"To Sèvres, the foot of the hill at Bellevue, and look sharp about it!"
* * * * *
Juve left his taxi-cab, and mounted the slope on foot to the elegant
villa inhabited by Dixon. All was quiet, and if he had not had word, the
detective would have doubted that he was close to the scene of a crime,
or at least of an attempted one.
Scarcely had he entered the grounds when a sergeant came toward him and
saluted. Juve inquired:
"What has happened?"
"M. Dixon is resting just now, and the doctor has forbidden the least
noise."
"Is his condition serious?"
"I think not from what Doctor Plassin says."
"Now, Sergeant, tell me everything from the beginning."
The sergeant drew Juve to the arbour, where a policeman was seated
making out a report. Juve took the paper and read:
"We, the undersigned, Dubois, Sergeant in the second squad of
foot-police, quartered at Sèvres, together with Constable Verdier,
received this morning, June 28th, at 6.35 from M. Olivetti, a
business man, living in Bellevue, the following declaration:
"'Having left my home at 6.15 and being on the way to the
State Railway to take the 6.42 train, by which I go every day
to my work, I was passing the slopes of Bellevue, when, being
level with Brimborion Park, a little short of the villa number
16, which I hear belongs to M. Dixon, an American pugilist, I
heard a revolver shot followed by the noise of breaking
glass, the pieces falling on to a hard ground, most likely
stone.
"'Having halted for a moment through caution, I looked to see
if anyone was hiding near by. I saw nothing but heard three
more revolver shots in quick succession, seeming to come from
Dixon's house. After some minutes I went near the house and
ascertained that the panes of the window on the right side of
the front were broken, and the pieces strewed the asphalt
terrace in front of the house.
"'I made up my mind to ring, but no one opened the door. I
then thought that some prowlers had amused themselves by
making a shindy, and I was about to continue to the train when
I thought I heard faint cries coming from the inside of the
house. Then, fearing there was a mishap or a crime, I ran to
the police station and made the above statement in presence of
the sergeant.'"
Juve turned to the sergeant, who gave further details.
"Constable Verdier and I immediately hastened here. We reached the
terrace of the house, but there we came to a closed door we could not
break in. Having shouted loudly we were answered by groans and cries for
help which came from the room on the first floor of which the windows
were broken. We then got a ladder and climbed up. I passed my hand
inside and worked the hasp of the window. We went in and found ourselves
in a bedroom in apple-pie order and in which nothing appeared to have
been disarranged."
"And on a second inspection?" queried Juve.
"I went to the far end of the room and found stretched on the bed a man
in undress, who seemed a prey to violent pains. I learned afterwards
that this was M. Dixon, the tenant of the house. He could scarcely utter
a word or move. His shoulders and arms were out of the clothes, and I
could discern that the skin of his chest and shoulders bore traces of
blood effusion. On a bracket to the right of the bed lay a revolver, the
six cartridges of which had been recently fired."
"Ah!" cried Juve. "And then?"
"I thought the first thing to do was to call in a doctor. M. Olivetti
consented to go and call Doctor Plassin, who lives near by. Five minutes
later the doctor came, and I took advantage of his presence to send my
man to the Station."
"Have you been over the house?"
"Not yet, Inspector, but nothing will be easier, for in turning out the
pockets of the victim's clothes we found his bunch of keys."
"To bring the doctor into the house, you must have opened the door to
him, and therefore had a glimpse of the other rooms in the house, the
lobby, the staircase?"
The sergeant shook his head.
"No, Inspector. We went up the ladder. I tried to get out of the door of
M. Dixon's room, but found it was locked. This seemed strange, for the
assailant presumably entered by the door."
"By the by, Sergeant, are there no servants here? The place seems
deserted."
Constable Verdier put in his word:
"The American lives here alone except for an old charwoman who comes in
before nine. She will probably be here in half an hour, for she can have
no idea of what has happened."
"Good," said Juve. "You will let me know as soon as she comes; wait for
her in the garden. As for us," and he turned to the sergeant, "let us
make our way inside."
The two, armed with Dixon's keys, opened without difficulty the main
entrance door to the ground floor. There they found nothing out of the
way, but on reaching the first floor, the marks of some one's passage
was clearly visible.
The door of a lumber room stood wide open, and on its floor sheets of
paper, letters and documents lay scattered about. Juve took a candle
and, after a brief investigation, exclaimed:
"They were after the strong box."
A large steel safe, built into the wall, had been burst open, and the
workman-like manner in which it had been done showed clearly the hand of
an expert. Juve carefully examined the floor, picked up two or three
papers that had evidently been trodden on, took some measurements which
he jotted down in his note-book, and, without telling the sergeant his
conclusions, went downstairs again, paying no heed to the next room in
which Dixon lay, watched over by Doctor Plassin.
Verdier, who was mounting guard before the house, came forward and said:
"Mr. Inspector, the doctor says M. Dixon is awake. Do you care to see
him?"
Juve at once had the ladder put to the first story window and made his
way into the pugilist's room. The men's description was correct. No
disorder reigned in the chamber, at the far end of which, on a great
brass bed, a sturdy individual, his face worn with suffering, lay
stretched.
In two words Juve introduced himself to the doctor; then expressed his
sorrow for Dixon's plight.
"These are only contusions, M. Juve. Serious enough, but nothing more.
By the by, M. Dixon may congratulate himself upon owning muscles of
exceptional vigour. Otherwise, from the grip he must have undergone,
his body would be no more than a shapeless pulp."
Juve pricked up his ears. He had heard before of bones snapped and
broken under a strain that neither flesh nor muscle could resist. The
mysterious death of Lady Beltham at once occurred to his memory.
"Mr. Dixon, you will tell me all the details of the tragic night you
have passed through. You probably dined in Paris last evening?"
The sick man replied in a fairly firm voice:
"No, sir, I dined at home alone."
"Is that your usual habit?"
"No, sir, but between five and seven I had been training hard for my
match which was to have come off to-morrow with Joe Sans."
"Do you think your opponent would have been capable of trying to injure
you to keep you out of the ring?"
"No, Joe Sans is a good sportsman; besides, he lives at Brussels, and
isn't due in Paris till to-morrow."
"And after dinner, what did you do?"
"I fastened the shutters and doors, came up here and undressed."
"Are you in the habit of bolting yourself into your room?"
"Yes, I lock my door every evening."
"What time was it when you went to bed?"
"Ten at latest."
"And then?"
"Then I went fast asleep, but in the middle of the night I was waked by
a strange noise. It sounded like a scratching at my door. I gave a shout
and banged my fist on the partition."
"Why?" asked Juve, surprised.
The American explained:
"I thought the scratching came from rats, and I simply made a noise to
frighten them away. Then, the sound having ceased, I fell asleep again."
"And afterwards?"
"I was waked again by the sound of stealthy footsteps on the landing of
the first floor."
"This time you went to see?"
"I meant to do so, I was about to get up. I had put out my arm to get my
matches and revolver, when suddenly I felt a weight on my bed and then I
was corded, bound like a sausage, my arms tight to my body! For ten
minutes I struggled with all the power of my muscles against a frightful
and mysterious grip which continually grew tighter."
"A lasso!" suggested Doctor Plassin in a low voice.
"Were you able to determine the nature of the thing that was gripping
you?" asked Juve.
"I don't know. I remember feeling at the touch of the thing a marked
sensation of dampness and cold."
"A wetted lasso, exactly. A rope dipped in water tautens of itself,"
remarked the doctor.
"You had to make a great effort to prevent being crushed or broken?"
"A more than human effort, Mr. Inspector, as the doctor has witnessed;
if I had not muscles of steel and exceptional strength I should have
been flattened."
"Good--good," applauded Juve. "That's exactly it!"
"Really! You think so?" queried the American with a touch of sarcasm.
Juve smilingly apologised. His approval meant no more than that the
statements of the victim coincided with the theories he had formed. And
indeed he saw clearly in the unsuccessful attempt on the American and
the achieved killing of Lady Beltham a common way of going to work, the
same process. Undoubtedly the American owed it to his robust physique
that he got off but slightly scathed, whereas the hapless woman had been
totally crushed.
The similarity of the two crimes allowed Juve to make further
inductions. He reckoned that it was not by chance that Dixon had met
Josephine at the "Crocodile" two nights before, while the presence of
both Chaleck and Loupart in that establishment was still less
accidental. And already he felt pleased at the thought that he knew
almost to a certainty the villains to whom this fresh crime must be
ascribed. They had wanted to get rid of Dixon, that was sure, and by a
process still unknown to Juve, but which he would soon discover. They
had rendered the pugilist helpless while they were robbing him.
"Had you a large sum of money in your safe?" he asked.
The American gave a violent start.
"They've burgled me! Tell me, sir, tell me quickly!"
Juve nodded in the affirmative. Dixon stammered feebly:
"Four thousand pounds! They've taken four thousand pounds from me! I
received the sum a few days ago!"
"Gently, gently!" observed the doctor. "You will make yourself feverish
and I shall have to stop the interview."
Juve put in:
"I only want a few moments more, doctor. It is important." Then, turning
to Dixon, he resumed: "How did your struggle with the mysterious
pressure end?"
"After about ten minutes I felt my bands relaxing. In a short while I
was free; I heard no more, but suffered such great pain that I fell back
in bed and either slept or fainted."
"Then you did not get up at all?"
"No."
"And the door of your room to the landing remained locked all night?"
"Yes, all night."
"How about this broken glass in your window? Those revolver shots at six
in the morning?"
"It was I, firing from my bed to make a noise and bring some one here."
"I thought as much," said Juve, as he went down on all fours and
proceeded to examine the carpeting of the room between the bed and the
door, a distance of some seven feet. The carpet, of very close fabric,
afforded no trace, but on a white bearskin rug the detective noted in
places tufts of hair glued together as if something moist and sticky had
passed over it. He cut off one of these tufts and shut it carefully in
his pocketbook. He then went to the door which was hidden by a velvet
curtain. He could not suppress a cry of amazement. In the lower panel of
the door a round hole had been made about six or eight inches in
diameter. It was four inches above the floor, and might have been made
for a cat.
"Did you have that hole made in the door?" asked Juve.
"No. I don't know what it is," replied the American.
"Neither do I," rejoined Juve, "but I have an idea." Doctor Plassin was
jubilant.
"There you are!" he cried. "A lasso! And it was thrust in by that hole."
Through the window, Verdier called:
"M. Inspector, the charwoman is coming."
Juve looked at his watch.
"Half-past nine. I will see her in a minute."
XXV
THE TRAP
"Twelve o'clock! Hang it! I've just time to get there to keep my
engagement with Josephine."
Juve was going down Belleville hill as fast as his legs could take him
by a short cut past the Sèvres school. He cast a mocking glance toward
the little police station which stands smart and trim at one side of the
high road.
"Pity," he murmured, "that I can't escort my friends to that delightful
country house."
Then he hastened his pace still more. He was growing angry.
"I told Fandor to be at Nogent Station exactly at 1.30. It is now five
past twelve and I am still at Sèvres. Matters are getting complicated.
Oh, I'll take the tramway to Versailles' gate. From there I'll drive to
Nogent Station in a taxi."
He put this plan into execution, and was lucky enough to find a place
in the Louvre-Versailles' tram.
"All things considered, I have not wasted my morning. Poor Dixon! He was
lucky to get off so cheaply. It would seem now that Josephine told the
truth in saying he is not an accomplice of the Gang."
Juve reflected a while, then added:
"Only it looks as if that accursed Josephine had put her friends up to
the job."
At the St. Cloud gate the tram came to a stop and Juve got down, hailed
a taxi, and told the driver:
"To Nogent Station and look sharp. I'm in a terrible hurry."
The driver nodded assent, Juve got in, and the vehicle started. The taxi
had hardly been going five minutes when Juve became impatient.
"Go quicker, my man! Don't you know how to drive?"
The man replied, nettled:
"I don't want to get run in for breaking the regulations."
Juve laughed.
"Never mind the regulations, I'm from Police Headquarters."
The magical word took effect. From that moment, heedless of the frantic
signals of policemen, the driver tore along at full speed and reached
the square in front of Nogent Station.
"It is only 1.45--Fandor should just have got here."
Juve, indeed, had only just settled with his driver when Fandor popped
up from the waiting-room.
"Well, Juve! Anything fresh this morning?"
The detective smiled.
"Any number of things. But I'll tell you later. Where is Josephine?"
"Not here yet."
"The deuce!"
"That confirms my suspicions; eh, Juve?"
"Somewhat. I should be astonished if we did see her."
The detective led the journalist away, and the two went for a turn
beside the railway-line on the deserted boulevard.
"Fandor, this is the time to draw up a plan of action. Do you remember
the directions Josephine gave us?"
"Vaguely."
"Well, we are now going to the neighbourhood of the Rue des Charmilles.
It is number 7 that Loupart and his gang are to loot, according to
Josephine. Yesterday afternoon I sent my men to look at the street; this
is how they described it to me. It is a sort of lane with no issue; the
house which we are concerned with is the last, standing on the right. It
is a lodge of humble aspect, the tenants of which are really away. There
are not many people living in this Charmilles Lane, and the place is
well chosen for such a job, at least that is Michel's opinion.
"Oh, I forgot one thing, round the house is a fairly large garden of
which the walls are luckily high. So it is likely that even if the
burglars should discover our presence they could not get off the back
way."
"And what is your plan of action, Juve?"
"A very simple one. We are going to the entry of the Rue Charmilles and
wait there. When our men come up with us I shall try to pick out Loupart
and fly at his throat. There will be a struggle, no doubt, but in the
meantime you must bellow with all your might: 'Murder' and 'Help.' I
trust that succour will reach us."
"Then you haven't any plain-clothes men here?"
"No. I don't want to let my superiors know about this expedition."
The two men went forward some paces in silence along an empty side
street, till Juve halted in a shady corner and drew out his Browning,
carefully seeing to the magazine.
"Do as I do, Fandor"; he prepared for a tussle. "I smell powder in the
air."
Juve was about to start forward again when suddenly a tremendous uproar
broke out: "Help! Help!"
Juve seized Fandor by the arm.
"Take the left-hand pavement!"
The two had just reached the corner of the street where the house spoken
of by Josephine should stand, when a jostling crowd of people came in
sight, rushing toward them, uttering shouts and yells. Juve and Fandor
recognised a man fleeing at full speed in front of them, whose face was
hidden by a black mask! Behind him two other men were running, also
masked, but with grey velvet. In the crowd following were grocers'
assistants, workmen of all kinds, even a Nogent policeman.
"Help! Murder! Arrest him!"
The fleeing man was threatening his pursuers with an enormous revolver.
"Look out!" shouted Juve. "Loupart is mine! You tackle the others!"
But suddenly catching sight of the detective Loupart slackened his pace.
"Get out of the way!" he cried, flourishing his revolver.
"Stop, or I fire!" returned Juve.
"Fire then! I, too, shall fire!" And, leaping toward the detective, the
outlaw pointed his revolver at him and fired twice.
With a quick movement Juve leaped aside. The bullets must have brushed
him, but luckily he was not touched. The plucky detective again flung
himself on Loupart, seized him by the collar and tried to throw him
down.
"Let me go! I'll do for you----"
For a moment Juve felt the cold muzzle of the weapon on his neck. Then,
with a supreme effort, he forced the outlaw's hands down and, aiming his
revolver, fired.
"Help! I--I----"
A gush of blood welled up from the ruffian's collar. He turned twice,
and then fell heavily on the ground.
In the meantime Fandor was struggling with the two men in the grey
masks. Juve was about to go to his assistance, when the crowd now made a
rush and the detective became the central point of a furious encounter:
blows and kicks rained on him. He succumbed to numbers.
It was now Fandor's turn to help his friend, and he was about to join
the fight when he stood rooted to the spot in utter amazement. A little
beyond the groups of struggling men he caught sight of an individual
standing beside a tripod on which was placed a contrivance he did not
at once identify. The man seemed greatly amused, and was watching the
scene laughing and showing no desire to intervene.
"Very good! Very good! That will make a splendid film!"
Fandor understood----
His head bandaged and his arm in a sling, Juve was replying in a shaky
voice to the Superintendent of Police of Nogent.
"No, Superintendent, I realised nothing. It is monstrous! I asked in the
most perfect good faith. I did not fire till I had been fired at three
times."
"You didn't notice the strange get-up of the burglars? And of the
policemen? Of that poor actor, Bonardin, you half killed?"
Juve shook his head.
"I hadn't time to notice details. I want you to understand,
Superintendent, how things came about, to realise how the trap was laid
for me.... I came to Nogent, assured that I was about to face dangerous
ruffians. I was to encounter them at such an hour, in such a street. I
was given their description: they would have their faces masked and come
out of a certain house. And it all happened as described. I hadn't gone
ten paces in the said street when sure enough I saw people rushing
toward me bawling 'Help.' I recognised men in masks: had I time to look
at the details of their costumes? Certainly not! I spring at the throat
of the fugitive. He has a revolver and fires. How could I know the
weapon was only loaded blank? He, an actor in a cinematograph scene,
takes me for another, acting the part of a policeman. He fires at me and
I retaliate."
"And you half kill him."
"For which I am exceedingly sorry. But nothing could lead me to suspect
a trap."
"It's lucky you didn't wound anyone else. How did matters end?"
"The actors, naturally enough, were furious with me, and I was being
roughly handled when the real policemen arrived and rescued me. All was
explained when I brought out my card of identity. While they were taking
me to the station, the actor Bonardin was being carried to the nearest
house, a convent, I believe."
"Yes, the Convent of the Ladies of St. Clotilde."
* * * * *