"I know it only too well, Monsieur Lecoq," said he, sadly. "You must be
right. But is not the wretch thus securely hidden from us? Must we wait
till some accident reveals him to us? Can you search one by one all the
houses in Paris?"
The detective's nose wriggled under his gold spectacles, and the justice
of the peace, who observed it, and took it for a good sign, felt all his
hopes reviving in him.
"I've cudgelled my brain in vain--" he began.
"Pardon me," interrupted M. Lecoq. "Having hired apartments, Tremorel
naturally set about furnishing them."
"Evidently."
"Of course he would furnish them sumptuously, both because he is fond of
luxury and has plenty of money, and because he couldn't carry a young
girl from a luxurious home to a garret. I'd wager that they have as fine
a drawing-room as that at Valfeuillu."
"Alas! How can that help us?"
"Peste! It helps us much, my dear friend, as you shall see. Hector, as
he wished for a good deal of expensive furniture, did not have recourse
to a broker; nor had he time to go to the Faubourg St. Antoine.
Therefore, he simply went to an upholsterer."
"Some fashionable upholsterer--"
"No, he would have risked being recognized. It is clear that he assumed
a false name, the same in which he had hired his rooms. He chose some
shrewd and humble upholsterer, ordered his goods, made sure that they
would be delivered on a certain day, and paid for them."
M. Plantat could not repress a joyful exclamation; he began to see M.
Lecoq's drift.
"This merchant," pursued the latter, "must have retained his rich
customer in his memory, this customer who did not beat him down, and
paid cash. If he saw him again, he would recognize him."
"What an idea!" cried M. Plantat, delighted. "Let's get photographs and
portraits of Tremorel as quick as we can--let's send a man to Orcival
for them."