M. Plantat, in speaking of M. Domini's impatience, did not exaggerate
the truth. That personage was furious; he could not comprehend the
reason of the prolonged absence of his three fellow-workers of the
previous evening. He had installed himself early in the morning in his
cabinet, at the court-house, enveloped in his judicial robe; and he
counted the minutes as they passed. His reflections during the night,
far from shaking, had only confirmed his opinion. As he receded from the
period of the crime, he found it very simple and natural--indeed, the
easiest thing in the world to account for. He was annoyed that the rest
did not share his convictions, and he awaited their report in a state of
irritation which his clerk only too well perceived. He had eaten his
breakfast in his cabinet, so as to be sure and be beforehand with M.
Lecoq. It was a useless precaution; for the hours passed on and no one
arrived.
To kill time, he sent for Guespin and Bertaud and questioned them anew,
but learned nothing more than he had extracted from them the night
before. One of the prisoners swore by all things sacred that he knew
nothing except what he had already told; the other preserved an
obstinate and ferocious silence, confining himself to the remark: "I
know that I am lost; do with me what you please."
M. Domini was just going to send a mounted gendarme to Orcival to find
out the cause of the delay, when those whom he awaited were announced.
He quickly gave the order to admit them, and so keen was his curiosity,
despite what he called his dignity, that he got up and went forward to
meet them.
"How late you are!" said he.
"And yet we haven't lost a minute," replied M. Plantat. "We haven't even
been in bed."
"There is news, then? Has the count's body been found?"
"There is much news, Monsieur," said M. Lecoq. "But the count's body has
not been found, and I dare even say that it will not be found--for the
very simple fact that he has not been killed. The reason is that he was
not one of the victims, as at first supposed, but the assassin."
At this distinct declaration on M. Lecoq's part, the judge started in
his seat.
"Why, this is folly!" cried he.
M. Lecoq never smiled in a magistrate's presence. "I do not think so,"
said he, coolly; "I am persuaded that if Monsieur Domini will grant me
his attention for half an hour I will have the honor of persuading him
to share my opinion."
M. Domini's slight shrug of the shoulders did not escape the detective,
but he calmly continued:
"More; I am sure that Monsieur Domini will not permit me to leave his
cabinet without a warrant to arrest Count Hector de Tremorel, whom at
present he thinks to be dead."
"Possibly," said M. Domini. "Proceed."
M. Lecoq then rapidly detailed the facts gathered by himself and M.
Plantat from the beginning of the inquest. He narrated them not as if he
had guessed or been told of them, but in their order of time and in such
a manner that each new incident which, he mentioned followed naturally
from the preceding one. He had completely resumed his character of a
retired haberdasher, with a little piping voice, and such obsequious
expressions as, "I have the honor," and "If Monsieur the Judge will
deign to permit me;" he resorted to the candy-box with the portrait,
and, as the night before at Valfeuillu, chewed a lozenge when he came to
the more striking points. M. Domini's surprise increased every minute as
he proceeded; while at times, exclamations of astonishment passed his
lips: "Is it possible?" "That is hard to believe!"
M. Lecoq finished his recital; he tranquilly munched a lozenge, and
added:
"What does Monsieur the Judge of Instruction think now?"
M. Domini was fain to confess that he was almost satisfied. A man,
however, never permits an opinion deliberately and carefully formed to
be refuted by one whom he looks on as an inferior, without a secret
chagrin. But in this case the evidence was too abundant, and too
positive to be resisted.
"I am convinced," said he, "that a crime was committed on Monsieur
Sauvresy with the dearly paid assistance of this Robelot. To-morrow I
shall give instructions to Doctor Gendron to proceed at once to an
exhumation and autopsy of the late master of Valfeuillu."
"And you may be sure that I shall find the poison," chimed in the
doctor.
"Very well," resumed M. Domini. "But does it necessarily follow that
because Monsieur Tremorel poisoned his friend to marry his widow, he
yesterday killed his wife and then fled? I don't think so."
"Pardon me," objected Lecoq, gently. "It seems to me that Mademoiselle
Courtois's supposed suicide proves at least something."
"That needs clearing up. This coincidence can only be a matter of pure
chance."
"But I am sure that Monsieur Tremorel shaved himself--of that we have
proof; then, we did not find the boots which, according to the valet, he
put on the morning of the murder."
"Softly, softly," interrupted the judge. "I don't pretend that you are
absolutely wrong; it must be as you say; only I give you my objections.
Let us admit that Tremorel killed his wife, that he fled and is alive.
Does that clear Guespin, and show that he took no part in the murder?"
This was evidently the flaw in Lecoq's case; but being convinced of
Hector's guilt, he had given little heed to the poor gardener, thinking
that his innocence would appear of itself when the real criminal was
arrested. He was about to reply, when footsteps and voices were heard in
the corridor.
"Stop," said M. Domini. "Doubtless we shall now hear something important
about Guespin."
"Are you expecting some new witness?" asked M. Plantat.
"No; I expect one of the Corbeil police to whom I have given an
important mission."
"Regarding Guespin?"
"Yes. Very early this morning a young working-woman of the town, whom
Guespin has been courting, brought me an excellent photograph of him. I
gave this portrait to the agent with instructions to go to the Vulcan's
Forges and ascertain if Guespin had been seen there, and whether he
bought anything there night before last."
M. Lecoq was inclined to be jealous; the judge's proceeding ruffled him,
and he could not conceal an expressive grimace.
"I am truly grieved," said he, dryly, "that Monsieur the Judge has so
little confidence in me that he thinks it necessary to give me
assistance."
This sensitiveness aroused M. Domini, who replied:
"Eh! my dear man, you can't be everywhere at once. I think you very
shrewd, but you were not here, and I was in a hurry."
"A false step is often irreparable."
"Make yourself easy; I've sent an intelligent man." At this moment the
door opened, and the policeman referred to by the judge appeared on the
threshold. He was a muscular man about forty years old, with a military
pose, a heavy mustache, and thick brows, meeting over the nose. He had a
sly rather than a shrewd expression, so that his appearance alone seemed
to awake all sorts of suspicions and put one instinctively on his guard.
"Good news!" said he in a big voice: "I didn't make the journey to Paris
for the King of Prussia; we are right on the track of this rogue of a
Guespin."