THE SECOND INSTALLATION
The Board of Inquiry began its sessions that afternoon, at the
Prefecture of Marine. It was composed of the most distinguished officers
of France, who had donned for the occasion their most brilliant
uniforms. There was much paraphernalia--secretaries, portfolios,
red-taped papers, reports--all that display so dear to the French
temperament; and every one wore an air of importance and solemnity
befitting time and place.
M. Delcasse opened the session with a ringing speech, forming a notable
contrast to the platitudes uttered by the President in the morning. In
fact, it was so bold in its allusions to an approaching struggle with
"the implacable enemy of the Republic," that the members of the Board
glanced covertly at each other in astonishment. Their astonishment was
the greater because, as they well knew, M. Delcasse was not given to
indiscretions. At least, his indiscretions were always nicely-calculated
ones. He knew when to speak and when to hold his tongue--none better;
and the fact that he thought it necessary to speak now proved that the
affair was serious indeed. At the end of the speech, the Board
proceeded in a body to an inspection of the wreck.
Lepine, meanwhile, armed with the description Crochard had given him,
set his men to work to discover the dwelling-place of the white-haired
stranger who had been seen passing back and forth along the road outside
the city gate. But, to his chagrin, evening came and his men had
discovered nothing. It is true that the investigation was rendered more
than usually difficult by the fact that the town was still in an uproar,
and no one wished to speak of anything but the disaster. For the moment,
the memories of the people went no farther back than dawn of the
previous day. In a day or two, when the first excitement had passed,
there would be a much better chance of success.
So, at least, reasoned Inspector Pigot, whose watchword was always
Patience! But the reasoning did not satisfy Lepine. Patience was not
always a virtue. In this affair, it was impossible to wait a day or two.
With every hour, no doubt, the man they sought was putting fresh leagues
between himself and his pursuers. Crochard, so Lepine told himself
miserably, Crochard would not wait a day or two. Perhaps, already....
He put on his hat and sought the Cafe des Voyageurs. Choosing the seat
which he had occupied that morning, he ordered a liqueur and sat for an
hour contemplating the crowd. Again he perceived that the proprietor was
absent; but this time the head-waiter did not approach, or even meet his
glance. He thought, for a moment, of calling him and asking for
Crochard; but he finally decided that that would be too great an
indiscretion. Besides, as Crochard had pointed out, in this affair it
was Lepine who followed. It was for him to receive instructions, not to
give them. At last, with a feeling of depression and dependency quite
new to him, the great detective left the cafe, returned to his hotel and
went to bed.
But early next morning, things began to move again. He had scarcely
finished his breakfast, when a summons came from M. Delcasse to attend
him at once, and when Lepine entered his office, he saw that something
of importance had occurred. Delcasse already had a visitor--a tall, thin
man, dressed severely in black, with the word "banker" written all over
him. Lepine was therefore not surprised when the visitor was introduced
to him as the manager of the Toulon branch of the Bank of France.
"We have something of interest here," said Delcasse, and tossed over to
Lepine two notes for a hundred francs each.
The latter's eyes were shining as he picked them up, glanced at their
numbers, and then compared them with a third note which he took from his
pocket-book.
"They are of the same series," he said. "Where did you get them, sir?"
and he turned to the bank manager.
"They were deposited with us by the cashier of the central railway
station."
"When?"
"On the afternoon of Monday, the twenty-fifth."
"How did you discover them?"
"We received instructions yesterday from Paris to report immediately the
receipt of any notes of this series. Our cashier, while checking up our
deposits yesterday evening, happened upon these notes, and identified
them as a part of the railway deposit of the day before. The matter was
reported to me, and I at once forwarded the report to Paris. This
morning I received a telegram instructing me to report in person to M.
Delcasse, and I hastened to do so."
"You have done well, sir," said the Minister, "and I thank you. We will
ask you to exchange these notes for two others, and furthermore to say
nothing to any one of this discovery or of having seen me."
The exchange was made, the banker departed, and Lepine, with the notes
in his pocket-book, hastened away to the Gare Centrale. Arrived there,
he asked for the chief, introduced himself, and stated his business.
"I have here two notes," he said, "which were deposited by your cashier
last Monday afternoon. It is most important that I find out from whom
this money was received, and to what point tickets were purchased. The
purchase was made, no doubt, some time during Monday."
"The money might have been received Sunday," the chef-du-gare pointed
out. "Since the bank is closed Sunday, we can make no deposit on that
day."
"I have reason to believe it was not received until Monday," said
Lepine. "May I interrogate the cashiers, beginning with the one who was
on duty at daybreak Monday?"
"There are two men on duty at all hours," explained the chief; "and each
trick is eight hours in length. The first begins at six o'clock in the
morning. At what hour was daybreak on Monday?"
"At five o'clock and forty-nine minutes."
"The clerks who were in the bureau at that hour are not here now, but I
can have them called."
"Let us interrogate the ones who are here," suggested Lepine. "Perhaps
it will not be necessary to disturb the others."
The chief pressed a button and summoned the ticket-sellers, one after
the other. The first had no recollection of having received the notes,
but with his companion Lepine was more successful.
"Yes, yes, I remember them perfectly," he said, when they were shown to
him. "My attention was called to them because they were both quite new.
I looked at them closely to make certain that they were genuine, and
noticed that they were numbered consecutively. Another detail which
caused them to remain in my memory was the striking appearance of the
person who gave them to me."
Lepine's heart was throbbing with triumph.
"Describe this man," he said.
"Ah, sir," said the clerk, "that is just it. It was not a man, but a
girl--a girl of eighteen or twenty. That is what drew my attention. It
is not usual to have a girl like that ask for two tickets, second-class,
to Paris."
"A girl!" stammered Lepine. "You are sure?"
"Perfectly sure, sir."
"Well, describe her, then."
The clerk half-closed his eyes in order the better to visualize his
memory.
"She was, as I have said, of about nineteen, and she was not a
Frenchwoman."
"How do you know that?"
"Because, in the first place, she spoke French not very well; and, in
the second place, there was in her manner an assurance, a freedom from
embarrassment, which a French girl of her station would not possess."
"Was she light or dark?"
"She was dark, sir, with bright black eyes, with which she looked at one
very steadily. She was slightly built, of medium height, simply dressed,
so far as I could see through the little window, not fashionably, but
with good effect. However, what impressed me most was her calm
assurance--almost American; but she was too dark to be of America."
Reading between the lines, Lepine suspected that the clerk had attempted
to start a flirtation with the self-possessed unknown, and had been
rebuffed. And yet, what he said was true--young girls in France were
not, ordinarily, entrusted with the buying of railway tickets,
especially for so considerable a journey.
"You are sure the tickets were to Paris?"
"Yes, sir; second-class. I remember distinctly giving her sixty-four
francs in change."
"At what hour was this?"
"About eight o'clock, sir."
"Of Monday morning?"
"Yes, sir; of Monday morning."
"At what hour was the next train for Paris?"
"At eight-fifteen, sir, the express departs."
"The girl had no companion?"
"I saw none, sir."
"She certainly had a companion, or she would not have bought two
tickets."
"Perhaps the inspector at the gate can tell us something," the chief
suggested, and the clerk was dismissed and the inspector summoned. But
he could give them no information. There had been many passengers for
the express, and, besides, every one, himself included, was so
distressed and overwrought by the catastrophe of the morning that there
had not been the usual attention to detail. The inquiry was extended to
the baggage-porters, but with no better success. They, too, had been
upset by the disaster and had thought of nothing else. Some of them had
frankly deserted their posts in order to hasten to the harbour-front.
None of those who remained had noticed a white-haired man and a
dark-haired girl.
"Come!" said Lepine savagely to himself, as he left the station. "This
is not getting ahead--we must try the cabs. But first...."
He turned toward the Prefecture and quickened his step, for suddenly he
scented a new danger. This white-haired man, then, was in the pay of
Germany. He had destroyed _La Liberte_ for a price--an immense price, no
doubt! And now he had gone to Paris. From there, where would he go? To
Brest, perhaps, to work similar mischief there. Lepine shivered a
little. The best men he had left at Paris must be sent to Brest with
instructions to arrest the fugitives at sight. Two people, so unusual in
appearance, would find it difficult to avoid the police in so small a
town. But in Paris--that was different. Yet even there something might
be done. And then there was always chance, divine chance, which might,
at any moment, deliver them into his hands. Ah, if only he were
strolling along the Boulevards, looking into this face and that!
"Decidedly, I must be getting back!" Lepine murmured; and, having
arrived at the Prefecture, he sent a long telegram to his assistant at
Paris and another to the Prefect at Brest. Then he summoned Pigot. "You
will interrogate the cabmen at the Gare Centrale," he said, "as to which
of them drove a white-haired man and a dark-haired girl to the station
for the Paris express, Monday morning. And, understand well, Pigot,
there must be no failure this time!" Then, as the door closed behind
Pigot's retiring figure, he slapped himself smartly on the forehead. "I
am a fool!" he cried, and hurried from the building and called a cab.
There are many dealers in electrical supplies at Toulon, and it was not
until he reached the fourth one that Lepine found a ray of light. No;
its proprietor had no recollection of any sales to strangers. A little
white-haired man? No. But stay--there _had_ been a white-haired man!
No, he had bought nothing. He had had a battery recharged--a heavy
battery of an unusual type. Yes, it had been delivered. One moment, and
the man slowly turned the pages of his ledger, while Lepine bit his lips
with impatience. Here it was--the address--80 Rue du Plasson, fourth
floor.
In another moment, Lepine's cab was rattling over the cobbles in the
direction of the quays.
"Faster! Faster!" he urged.
And then they were in the Rue du Plasson.
"Behold Number Eighty, sir," said the cabman, and pulled up sharply.
There was already a cab at the curb, and as Lepine jumped out, the door
of the house opened and Pigot appeared on the threshold. He stared at
his chief in astonishment.
"I was just coming to report to you, sir," he said. "The birds have
flown."
"Indeed!" sneered Lepine. "So you have discovered that, have you? But
the installation is here, I suppose?"
"Yes, sir," answered Pigot, very red. "On the fourth floor."
Lepine bounded up the stairs, and Pigot followed in silence. He felt
that he had been used unjustly; after all, he was not a wizard--what did
the Chief expect!
At the top of the house, Lepine glanced first into the narrow room which
we have already seen; then he returned to the landing and opened the
other door. It led into a still narrower room, also extending to the
front of the house, and lighted by a single window. Lepine went to the
window and looked out. Over the roof of the low market across the way,
he could see the harbour, the warships, and the wreck of _La Liberte_.
Then he turned to an examination of the room.
A heavy box stood before the window, and on the floor beside it were
three large batteries. Some pieces of copper wire were lying about, but
there was nothing else. In the top of the box, however, four holes had
been bored, as though for the reception of bolts, and one side of the
box was badly burned. The sill of the window was also scorched and
blistered.
"You have the proprietor of this house?" Lepine inquired.
"He is below," Pigot announced, and went to fetch him.
But from the proprietor, a nervous little man with a dirty beard, Lepine
learned little. He lived at the rear of the ground floor, and ten days
or perhaps two weeks before, a man had knocked at the door and asked if
the upper floor was to rent.
"What sort of man?" Lepine inquired.
"A dark man, with white hair, sir; not a bad-looking man, but not a
Frenchman."
"A German, perhaps."
"No, most certainly not a German; an Italian or a Spaniard."
"What was his business?"
"He said he was an inventor and desired the top floor for his
experiments. I told him that in that case I should have to charge extra,
as experiments were always dangerous. He did not object, and paid a
month in advance. He seemed a very harmless person."
"Was he alone?"
"At that time, yes, sir. But when he returned with his baggage, his
daughter accompanied him."
"How do you know it was his daughter?"
"He told me so, sir. The resemblance was very evident. Besides, he
insisted that I supply material to curtain off a portion of the room for
her bed."
Lepine recognised the cogency of this reasoning and nodded.
"Continue," he said.
"She was a dark, slim girl, of about twenty. They gave me no trouble.
She scarcely left the house except for the marketing. But her father was
away a great deal."
"Did he bring much baggage?"
"Two pieces of hand-baggage, sir, and that box yonder by the window. The
box was very heavy--almost as if filled with iron--and we had great
difficulty in getting it up the stairs, even with the assistance of the
truck-man."
"Did you enter this room while he was here?"
"No, sir; I entered neither of the rooms. My rule is never to interfere
in the affairs of my tenants--they do not like it. But on one occasion,
as I passed the door, I heard him at work on his invention."
"Heard him, you say?"
"Yes, sir; there was a deep humming noise as of a huge top, or perhaps
of a motor. It occurred to me that it was a flying-machine which he was
inventing. Then, on Sunday, came a telegram."
"A telegram?"
"Yes, sir; I brought it up myself. He read it and his face grew very
grave. He informed me that he would be compelled to depart next
day--that his sister was dying. But he assured me that he would return
as soon as possible to continue his experiments, and that I was to hold
the apartment for him--at least until the month for which he had paid
had expired."
"And he did depart?"
"Yes, sir; quite early in the morning. I called a cab and assisted to
carry down his baggage. The box, as you see, remains against his return,
also his apparatus," and he indicated the batteries.
"Oh, certainly," agreed Lepine, with irony, "there can be no doubt of
his intention to return." And then his face grew dark and his eyes
flashed. "How does it happen," he demanded sternly, "that you did not
cause him to fill out a registration blank for the police?"
The little man twisted his hands nervously.
"In that I admit I was most culpable, sir," he said. "But when I looked
in my desk for a blank, I found that I had none. Every day I intended
going to the Prefecture to get a new supply, but every day something
occurred to prevent me. And then came the day of his departure."
Lepine's face was very stern.
"You have, indeed, been culpable," he said, "and I shall see that you
are punished. You have broken one of the laws of your country. You have
aided a malefactor!"
The little man's face was livid.
"Oh, do not say so, sir!" he protested. "There must be some mistake!
That kind gentleman, absorbed only in his invention--"
"I _do_ say so," broke in Lepine, savagely. "Did he receive any
letters?"
"One, sir, on the Saturday before the arrival of the telegram. No doubt
it, too, spoke of the illness of his sister."
Lepine put his hand wearily to his head.
"At least you noticed the address on the letter?" he asked.
"Oh, yes, sir. It was 'Monsieur B. Seguin, 80 Rue du Plasson, Toulon.'
Seguin, that was the name of my lodger."
"But you said he was not a Frenchman!"
"Perhaps he was a Belgian, sir. I have heard that they are sometimes
dark."
Lepine threw up his hands.
"Head of a pig!" he cried, and then controlled himself. "M. Pigot," he
said, "you will take this idiot to his rooms and remain in charge of him
until you hear from me."
And then, as Pigot and his prisoner started down the stairs, Lepine
turned to an investigation of the two rooms. Every nook, every crevice,
every inch of the floor, every drawer--all these he examined with a
minuteness of which only the French police are capable, but his search
disclosed nothing which shed any new light on the mystery. At last, he
descended the stairs and left the house.
There was still one hope, the telegram. He hastened to the post-office,
inquired for the clerk of telegraphs, apologised for again disturbing
him, and asked to see the telegram received for B. Seguin, 80 Rue du
Plasson, the Sunday before. At the end of five minutes it was in his
hands, and he read it with dismay. It had been sent from Brussels, and
this is the English of its contents:
"Our sister is very ill and asks for you. Come if you would
see her alive.
"CHARLES SEGUIN."