Richard Duvall, accompanied by the silent little curio dealer, left the
home of the French Ambassador and walked rapidly to the barber shop of
Alphonse Perrier in Piccadilly Circus. They found the place without
difficulty, a large and evidently prosperous establishment, located on
the ground floor of a building, the upper rooms of which were devoted to
business offices. A large plate glass window in front bore the sign,
"Alphonse Perrier, Tonsorial Parlors."
The detective and his companion walked slowly past the brightly lighted
window, their eyes taking in the details of the interior of the place.
It was now close to ten o'clock, but the street was filled with
pedestrians, and there were still one or two customers in the shop. At
the first chair toward the door stood a large pasty-faced man, with a
mop of bushy black hair, who was engaged in trimming a young man's
mustache. The second chair was occupied by a man who was being shaved.
The fellow who was shaving him answered in a general way to the
descriptions of Seltz given by the Ambassador's servants. The third
chair was unoccupied, and the man in charge of it, as well as those at
the remaining two chairs, were engaged in putting away their razors and
brushes, preparatory to leaving. It was evident that the closing hour
was near at hand.
Duvall turned to his companion, "Monsieur Dufrenne," he said, "will you
enter at once and take the third chair? Keep your eyes and ears open,
and see what you can learn. I will wait here in the shadow of the next
doorway. Our man is evidently inside. He will soon be leaving the shop.
If he does so, before you do, I shall follow him. In that event, return
to Monsieur de Grissac's house and wait there for word from me."
Dufrenne felt his stubbly beard. "It is fortunate, monsieur, that I have
not been shaved since Monday," he said, as he entered the shop.
The man in charge of the third chair looked at him with a sulky
expression as he took his seat. His companions grinned. Evidently he had
not expected another customer before the closing hour. He began to shave
the little old Frenchman with careless haste. The latter lay in his
chair, with half-closed eyes, pretending to doze. In reality he was
watching every movement of the man next to him.
The customer who occupied the second chair was a small, thin man, with
sandy hair and a bony face. His eyes, rather prominent, under sparse red
eyebrows, were closed as though in sleep. He was not paying the
slightest attention to his surroundings, taking no notice whatever of
Seltz, who was going over his face in a stolid and methodical way. There
seemed nothing about either of them to attract attention--and Dufrenne
began to wonder whether they might not after all be upon a false scent.
The man Seltz showed neither haste nor nervousness in his movements--if
he was in a hurry to finish his work for the evening, and leave the
place, he certainly did not show it.
After a time, Dufrenne observed that the thin man in the chair next to
him had opened his eyes, and was feeling his jaw with much satisfaction.
"A very good shave, my good fellow," he said, in excellent English,
without a trace of any foreign accent. "What powder was that you used,
may I ask?"
Dufrenne, who was observing Seltz carelessly, saw a sudden change come
over him. His eyes lit up with interest, and a slight flush overspread
his face. There seemed nothing in so simple a question to arouse him in
this way, and Dufrenne watched him carefully, his senses keenly alert
for anything of interest. To his disappointment, Seltz's answer was of
the most commonplace character. "It is a special kind, which Monsieur
Perrier has made for him, after his own formula. 'Poudre Perrier,' it is
called." He turned to the case behind him, opened a drawer and brought
forth a round cardboard box. "Eightpence is the price. Would you like to
try a box?" He extended the package toward his customer, who had risen
and was adjusting his scarf at the mirror.
The man turned and glanced carelessly at the box. "Oh, you might wrap it
up. I shave myself, occasionally, when I'm traveling. Eightpence, you
say?"
"Yes, sir." Seltz turned to the case and began to do up the package in a
piece of brown paper. In a few moments he turned and handed it to his
customer, who had drawn on his coat, and was preparing to leave the
place. Dufrenne saw him put his hand into his pocket and draw out some
money, which he handed to Seltz. The latter nodded gravely and placed it
in his pocket. The thin-faced man did the same with the package, then
left the shop. There was nothing in the least suspicious about the whole
transaction, and the little Frenchman contented himself with observing
Seltz as he put away his brushes and prepared to stop work for the day.
Once he saw the man draw something from his pocket and glance hurriedly
at it, but his back was toward the chair in which Dufrenne sat, and he
could not see what it was. A sense of uneasiness filled him, however, as
the man who was shaving him drew away the sheet from about his shoulders
and stepped back to allow him to rise.
He made his way to the street as quickly as possible. Seltz was still
occupied in putting away his shaving implements.
On reaching the pavement, Dufrenne turned and walked rapidly toward
Charing Cross. He did not wish to join Duvall in sight of those within.
He had taken but a few paces when the latter caught up to him. "What did
you learn?" the detective asked, quickly.
Dufrenne related in a few words what had occurred in the shop. He failed
to note the excitement with which the detective listened to his story.
"It may have been the snuff box," Duvall cried, moving forward rapidly
in his excitement. "A clever scheme, I must say." He looked about
eagerly for the man who had left the shop so short a time before, but he
had disappeared in the darkness. "If you could only have warned me in
some way."
"It was impossible, monsieur," said Dufrenne much crestfallen. "I could
not leave the chair until the man had finished shaving me."
"Of course not," replied Duvall, uncertain what course to pursue next.
"The man went in this direction. I noticed him particularly. Perhaps if
I were to hurry I might overtake him." He started forward. "You stay
here and watch Seltz. If I do not return, report to me at Monsieur de
Grissac's." He turned and disappeared in the crowd.
Dufrenne went slowly back to the neighborhood of the shop, and stood in
the shadow of the doorway, waiting. Presently he observed two of the
assistants, in street clothes, leave the place and hurry off into the
darkness. Neither of them was Seltz. The lights in the shop began to go
out. Another assistant left. Only Seltz and the proprietor now remained
within. He crept toward the window, and cautiously looked inside.
Monsieur Perrier stood before one of the mirrors, arranging his bushy
hair. _There was no one else in the shop._