When Richard Duvall left Dufrenne, the curio dealer, in Piccadilly
Circus, and started after the man who had purchased the box of powder in
the barber shop, he realized to the full the hopelessness of his task.
The man had left the shop at least two minutes before Dufrenne came
out--perhaps more, and another minute had been consumed by the latter in
telling his story. Three minutes' start, in a crowded street at night,
was a handicap which the detective could scarcely hope to overcome.
He hurried along in the general direction the fellow had taken, trying
to form in his mind a clear picture of his appearance. In the dim light
before the shop he had not been able to observe him closely, nor had
there, indeed, appeared any very good reason for doing so; he had
thought the man but a belated customer of the place and had barely
glanced at him.
His experience in summing up at a glance the general characteristics of
those he met, however, stood him in good stead--he remembered that the
man had worn a long brown overcoat, a derby hat, and carried in his hand
a small satchel. The latter, which Dufrenne had failed to mention,
indicated a traveler--the man's words to Seltz, on purchasing the box of
powder, seemed to confirm it. The man had walked, apparently, instead of
taking a cab. Charing Cross station was but a short distance away. What
more natural, Duvall reasoned, than that the man he was following, was
on his way to take a train?
Following this line of reasoning, the detective walked hastily in the
direction of Charing Cross, dodging in and out among the passers-by, and
eying keenly everyone he met, in the hope that he might discover the man
with the satchel. He was, however, doomed to disappointment. After
spending over fifteen minutes in Charing Cross station, watching the
crowds at the booking offices, the telegraph and telephone booths and
the restaurant, he concluded that he had been mistaken in his course of
reasoning and reluctantly turned his steps once more toward the shop of
M. Perrier. There was, of course, still the chance that his deductions
had been wrong. Seltz might still have the snuff box in his possession,
and the man with the satchel be merely a harmless individual who used
rice powder after shaving. He almost reproached himself for having
wasted so much time, and hurried along through Piccadilly Circus, in a
state of considerable perplexity.
As he came up to the shop, he saw Dufrenne standing before the window,
his eyes glued to the pane. Something in his astonished expression
attracted the detective's attention at once. He tapped the curio dealer
lightly on the shoulder.
Dufrenne turned suddenly, much startled, then recognizing Duvall, drew
him to one side. "I have watched the door every minute since you left,"
he said in a trembling voice. "Seltz did not come out--yet he is not
inside. No one is there but Monsieur Perrier."
Duvall started back with a muttered exclamation. "You--you must be
mistaken," he cried.
"Look!" The Frenchman pointed to the window. Duvall glanced within. The
proprietor of the place was its only occupant.
The detective turned to his companion and nodded. "Come inside," he
said, shortly, and striding up to the door, threw it open and entered
the place.
Monsieur Perrier, startled half out of his wits by the suddenness with
which Duvall entered the room, dropped the comb with which he had been
arranging his hair and turned with an alarmed face. "The shop--it is
closed for the night," he said. "My men have all gone home."
"Has Seltz gone?" asked Duvall, sharply.
"Seltz? Surely. He left immediately after shaving this gentleman."
Perrier indicated Dufrenne with a fat and trembling forefinger. "Is
anything wrong, gentlemen? Was the shave not satisfactory?"
Duvall looked at the curio dealer with a smile of chagrin. "It's
perfectly clear, Dufrenne," he said, somewhat crestfallen. "Our man went
out as we were walking up the street--while you were telling me what
happened in the shop."
The little old man nodded. Monsieur Perrier continued to gaze at his
visitors. "What is it you wish, gentlemen?" he presently inquired.
"Where does Seltz live?" Duvall demanded, sharply.
"Alas--I do not know. He has worked for me but three months. I knew
nothing of him--nothing at all. He--he asked for leave of absence
yesterday--he was to be gone a week, but to-night he told me that he
would not go."
Duvall's eyes lit up. He turned to Dufrenne. "After what
happened--to-night," he said, significantly, "he feared to
leave--thinking that his going away would be an admission of his guilt."
Again Dufrenne nodded. Monsieur Perrier looked at them with bulging
eyes. "Guilt!" he exclaimed. "Has this fellow Seltz been doing anything
he should not?"
"Possibly," Duvall ejaculated, dryly. "Do you happen to know where he
was going?"
"He--he said something about visiting his parents. Oh--gentlemen--I beg
of you, do not cause any scandal--it would ruin my trade. I shall
discharge the fellow at once."
"You will do nothing of the sort," exclaimed Duvall, angrily. "If he
reports for duty to-morrow, say nothing to him of our visit, or it will
be worse for you." He leaned toward the terrified barber. "I am a
detective," he said, shortly. "Be careful what you do."
Monsieur Perrier sank upon his knees, his hands lifted in supplication.
"_Mon Dieu_--what shall I do--my business--it will be desolated--what
shall I do?"
"Get up, and hold your tongue first of all. After that, tell me, if you
can, where it was that Seltz intended to go, to visit his parents?"
"He spoke of Brussels--he intended to take the night boat from Harwich
to Antwerp. I heard him discussing his plans with one of the other men."
"Brussels!" Duvall hurriedly glanced at his watch. "There's just time,
if we hurry--come." He turned to Dufrenne, excitement showing in every
line of his face. As he hurried toward the door he spoke over his
shoulder to Monsieur Perrier. "Don't open your mouth to a soul--do you
hear? If you do, you'll get yourself into a peck of trouble." The last
thing they heard as they left the shop was the barber's howls of assent.
At the corner Duvall signaled a passing cab. "Liverpool Street station,
in a hurry," he cried. "Half a crown extra, if you make the boat train
for Harwich."
Dufrenne gazed at his companion in bewilderment. "I do not understand,
Monsieur Duvall," he began, but the detective cut him short. "The thing
is as plain as a pipe stem," he said. "Seltz expected to get the snuff
box from the Ambassador's man this afternoon, and had made his
arrangements to leave with it for Brussels at once. The events of the
evening--culminating in Noel's murder, made him fear to do so. He
realized that the note, delivered to him by one of the Ambassador's
servants, might attract suspicion toward him, and therefore wisely made
up his mind to remain quietly where he was, sending the box by some
friend. He dared not hand the box to him at any place outside the shop,
for fear he might be watched. No doubt he arranged with his friend to
come to the place just before closing, and to pretend to buy the face
powder, as you saw him do. Seltz had only to turn the powder out of the
package, put the snuff box inside, and the thing was done. This he no
doubt did at some opportune moment during the evening, when he was
certain he was not observed. It is a mighty clever scheme--I'll admit.
You saw nothing suspicious about the transaction, and I confess that I
did not realize its significance at the time. Naturally the man to whom
he gave the box will make for Brussels at once, since it was to that
point that Seltz intended going. No doubt he was operating in the
interests of someone else--some third person to whom the box is of great
value, and who has agreed to pay a large sum for it on delivery. You saw
the fellow who bought the powder hand Seltz money--how much you could
not tell. It may be that Seltz was obliged to divide the reward with his
friend, and that the latter has already turned over to Seltz his share
in advance. Of that we cannot be certain, nor is it material. Seltz is
undoubtedly guilty of the murder of the man Noel, but to stay here and
arrest him now would only defeat the object we have in view. After the
box has been recovered, we can return and deal with Seltz. You may be
quite sure he will not dare to run away, for fear that by so doing he
would admit his guilt."
Dufrenne looked at the detective in admiration. "You reason well,
monsieur," he remarked. "But why should they be taking the box to
Brussels?"
"That I cannot tell you, of course, except that, as I said before, the
plot to steal it inevitably originated there. We shall learn more
to-morrow, after we have arrived in the city. The next thing to be done
is to find our man."
They arrived at Liverpool Street station just in time to swing aboard
the train for Harwich as it was pulling out. There were not many
passengers--they found themselves in a smoking-compartment quite to
themselves.
"There is no use in attempting to do anything until we reach Harwich,"
the detective remarked, pulling his hat over his eyes. He leaned back
and began to speculate disgustedly upon the events of the day. Married
at noon--torn from his wife within an hour--in London at night--a
murder--and now a wild chase to Brussels after a snuff box. It seemed
almost ludicrous. He smiled grimly. He had not expected to spend in
quite this way the first twelve hours of his honeymoon.