Hortense, feeling glad to be alive, was in a playful mood, full of attractive grace. Rénine, lest he should startle her, refrained from alluding1 to the compact into which they had entered at his suggestion. She told him how she had left La Marèze and said that she had not heard of Rossigny.
"I have," said Rénine. "I've heard of him."
"Oh?"
"Yes, he sent me a challenge. We fought a duel2 this morning. Rossigny got a scratch in the shoulder. That finished the duel. Let's talk of something else."
There was no further mention of Rossigny. Rénine at once expounded3 to Hortense the plan of two enterprises which he had in view and in which he offered, with no great enthusiasm, to let her share:
"The finest adventure," he declared, "is that which we do not foresee. It comes unexpectedly, unannounced; and no one, save the initiated4, realizes that an opportunity to act and to expend5 one's energies is close at hand. It has to be seized at once. A moment's hesitation6 may mean that we are too late. We are warned by a special sense, like that of a sleuth-hound which distinguishes the right scent7 from all the others that cross it."
The terrace was beginning to fill up around them. At the next table sat a young man reading a newspaper. They were able to see his insignificant8 profile and his long, dark moustache. From behind them, through an open window of the restaurant, came the distant strains of a band; in one of the rooms a few couples were dancing.
As Rénine was paying for the refreshments9, the young man with the long moustache stifled10 a cry and, in a choking voice, called one of the waiters:
"What do I owe you?... No change? Oh, good Lord, hurry up!"
Rénine, without a moment's hesitation, had picked up the paper. After casting a swift glance down the page, he read, under his breath:
"Maître Dourdens, the counsel for the defence in the trial of Jacques
Aubrieux, has been received at the Élysée. We are informed that the
and that the execution will take place to-morrow morning."
After crossing the terrace, the young man found himself faced, at the entrance to the garden, by a lady and gentleman who blocked his way; and the latter said:
"Yes, yes, Jacques Aubrieux," the young man stammered14. "Jacques, the friend of my childhood. I'm hurrying to see his wife. She must be beside herself with grief."
"Can I offer you my assistance? I am Prince Rénine. This lady and I would be happy to call on Madame Aubrieux and to place our services at her disposal."
The young man, upset by the news which he had read, seemed not to understand. He introduced himself awkwardly:
"My name is Dutreuil, Gaston Dutreuil."
Rénine beckoned17 to his chauffeur18, who was waiting at some little distance, and pushed Gaston Dutreuil into the car, asking:
"What address? Where does Madame Aubrieux live?"
"23 bis, Avenue du Roule."
After helping19 Hortense in, Rénine repeated the address to the chauffeur and, as soon as they drove off, tried to question Gaston Dutreuil:
"I know very little of the case," he said. "Tell it to me as briefly20 as you can. Jacques Aubrieux killed one of his near relations, didn't he?"
"He is innocent, sir," replied the young man, who seemed incapable21 of giving the least explanation. "Innocent, I swear it. I've been Jacques' friend for twenty years ... He is innocent ... and it would be monstrous22...."
There was nothing to be got out of him. Besides, it was only a short drive. They entered Neuilly through the Porte des Sablons and, two minutes later, stopped before a long, narrow passage between high walls which led them to a small, one-storeyed house.
Gaston Dutreuil rang.
"Madame is in the drawing-room, with her mother," said the maid who opened the door.
"I'll go in to the ladies," he said, taking Rénine and Hortense with him.
It was a fair-sized, prettily-furnished room, which, in ordinary times, must have been used also as a study. Two women sat weeping, one of whom, elderly and grey-haired, came up to Gaston Dutreuil. He explained the reason for Rénine's presence and she at once cried, amid her sobs23:
"My daughter's husband is innocent, sir. Jacques? A better man never lived. He was so good-hearted! Murder his cousin? But he worshipped his cousin! I swear that he's not guilty, sir! And they are going to commit the infamy25 of putting him to death? Oh, sir, it will kill my daughter!"
Rénine realized that all these people had been living for months under the obsession26 of that innocence27 and in the certainty that an innocent man could never be executed. The news of the execution, which was now inevitable28, was driving them mad.
He went up to a poor creature bent29 in two whose face, a quite young face, framed in pretty, flaxen hair, was convulsed with desperate grief. Hortense, who had already taken a seat beside her, gently drew her head against her shoulder. Rénine said to her:
"Madame, I do not know what I can do for you. But I give you my word of honour that, if any one in this world can be of use to you, it is myself. I therefore implore30 you to answer my questions as though the clear and definite wording of your replies were able to alter the aspect of things and as though you wished to make me share your opinion of Jacques Aubrieux. For he is innocent, is he not?"
"Oh, sir, indeed he is!" she exclaimed; and the woman's whole soul was in the words.
"You are certain of it. But you were unable to communicate your certainty to the court. Well, you must now compel me to share it. I am not asking you to go into details and to live again through the hideous31 torment32 which you have suffered, but merely to answer certain questions. Will you do this?"
"I will."
Rénine's influence over her was complete. With a few sentences Rénine had succeeded in subduing33 her and inspiring her with the will to obey. And once more Hortense realized all the man's power, authority and persuasion34.
"What was your husband?" he asked, after begging the mother and Gaston Dutreuil to preserve absolute silence.
"An insurance-broker."
"Lucky in business?"
"Until last year, yes."
"So there have been financial difficulties during the past few months?"
"Yes."
"And the murder was committed when?"
"Last March, on a Sunday."
"Who was the victim?"
"A distant cousin, M. Guillaume, who lived at Suresnes."
"What was the sum stolen?"
"Sixty thousand-franc notes, which this cousin had received the day before, in payment of a long-outstanding debt."
"Did your husband know that?"
"Yes. His cousin told him of it on the Sunday, in the course of a conversation on the telephone, and Jacques insisted that his cousin ought not to keep so large a sum in the house and that he ought to pay it into a bank next day."
"Was this in the morning?"
"At one o'clock in the afternoon. Jacques was to have gone to M. Guillaume on his motor-cycle. But he felt tired and told him that he would not go out. So he remained here all day."
"Alone?"
"Yes. The two servants were out. I went to the Cinéma des Ternes with my mother and our friend Dutreuil. In the evening, we learnt that M. Guillaume had been murdered. Next morning, Jacques was arrested."
"On what evidence?"
The poor creature hesitated to reply: the evidence of guilt24 had evidently been overwhelming. Then, obeying a sign from Rénine, she answered without a pause:
"The murderer went to Suresnes on a motorcycle and the tracks discovered were those of my husband's machine. They found a handkerchief with my husband's initials; and the revolver which was used belonged to him. Lastly, one of our neighbours maintains that he saw my husband go out on his bicycle at three o'clock and another that he saw him come in at half-past four. The murder was committed at four o'clock."
"And what does Jacques Aubrieux say in his defence?"
"He declares that he slept all the afternoon. During that time, some one came who managed to unlock the cycle-shed and take the motor-cycle to go to Suresnes. As for the handkerchief and the revolver, they were in the tool-bag. There would be nothing surprising in the murderer's using them."
"Yes, but the prosecution37 raised two objections. In the first place, nobody, absolutely nobody, knew that my husband was going to stay at home all day, because, on the contrary, it was his habit to go out on his motor-cycle every Sunday afternoon."
"And the second objection?"
She flushed and murmured:
"The murderer went to the pantry at M. Guillaume's and drank half a bottle of wine straight out of the bottle, which shows my husband's fingerprints38."
It seemed as though her strength was exhausted39 and as though, at the same time, the unconscious hope which Rénine's intervention40 had awakened41 in her had suddenly vanished before the accumulation of adverse42 facts. Again she collapsed43, withdrawn44 into a sort of silent meditation46 from which Hortense's affectionate attentions were unable to distract her.
The mother stammered:
"He's not guilty, is he, sir? And they can't punish an innocent man. They haven't the right to kill my daughter. Oh dear, oh dear, what have we done to be tortured like this? My poor little Madeleine!"
"She will kill herself," said Dutreuil, in a scared voice. "She will never be able to endure the idea that they are guillotining Jacques. She will kill herself presently ... this very night...."
Rénine was striding up and down the room.
"You can do nothing for her, can you?" asked Hortense.
"It's half-past eleven now," he replied, in an anxious tone, "and it's to happen to-morrow morning."
"Do you think he's guilty?"
"I don't know.... I don't know.... The poor woman's conviction is too impressive to be neglected. When two people have lived together for years, they can hardly be mistaken about each other to that degree. And yet...."
He stretched himself out on a sofa and lit a cigarette. He smoked three in succession, without a word from any one to interrupt his train of thought. From time to time he looked at his watch. Every minute was of such importance!
At last he went back to Madeleine Aubrieux, took her hands and said, very gently:
"You must not kill yourself. There is hope left until the last minute has come; and I promise you that, for my part, I will not be disheartened until that last minute. But I need your calmness and your confidence."
"I will be calm," she said, with a pitiable air.
"And confident?"
"And confident." "Well, wait for me. I shall be back in two hours from now. Will you come with us, M. Dutreuil?"
As they were stepping into his car, he asked the young man:
"Do you know any small, unfrequented restaurant, not too far inside Paris?"
"There's the Brasserie Lutetia, on the ground-floor of the house in which I live, on the Place des Ternes."
"Capital. That will be very handy."
"So far as I remember, the numbers of the notes are known, aren't they?"
"Yes. M. Guillaume had entered the sixty numbers in his pocket-book."
Rénine muttered, a moment later:
"That's where the whole problem lies. Where are the notes? If we could lay our hands on them, we should know everything."
At the Brasserie Lutetia there was a telephone in the private room where he asked to have lunch served. When the waiter had left him alone with Hortense and Dutreuil, he took down the receiver with a resolute48 air:
"Hullo!... Prefecture of police, please.... Hullo! Hullo!... Is that the Prefecture of police? Please put me on to the criminal investigation49 department. I have a very important communication to make. You can say it's Prince Rénine."
Holding the receiver in his hand, he turned to Gaston Dutreuil:
"I can ask some one to come here, I suppose? We shall be quite undisturbed?"
"Quite."
He listened again:
"The secretary to the head of the criminal investigation department? Oh, excellent! Mr. Secretary, I have on several occasions been in communication with M. Dudouis and have given him information which has been of great use to him. He is sure to remember Prince Rénine. I may be able to-day to show him where the sixty thousand-franc notes are hidden which Aubrieux the murderer stole from his cousin. If he's interested in the proposal, beg him to send an inspector50 to the Brasserie Lutetia, Place des Ternes. I shall be there with a lady and M. Dutreuil, Aubrieux's friend. Good day, Mr. Secretary."
When Rénine hung up the instrument, he saw the amazed faces of Hortense and of Gaston Dutreuil confronting him.
Hortense whispered:
"Then you know? You've discovered ...?"
"Nothing," he said, laughing.
"Well?"
The clock marked a quarter to one.
"The man from the prefecture will be here," he said, "in twenty minutes at latest."
"And if no one comes?" Hortense objected.
"That would surprise me. Of course, if I had sent a message to M. Dudouis saying, 'Aubrieux is innocent,' I should have failed to make any impression. It's not the least use, on the eve of an execution, to attempt to convince the gentry52 of the police or of the law that a man condemned to death is innocent. No. From henceforth Jacques Aubrieux belongs to the executioner. But the prospect53 of securing the sixty bank-notes is a windfall worth taking a little trouble over. Just think: that was the weak point in the indictment54, those sixty notes which they were unable to trace."
"But, as you know nothing of their whereabouts...."
"My dear girl--I hope you don't mind my calling you so?--my dear girl, when a man can't explain this or that physical phenomenon, he adopts some sort of theory which explains the various manifestations55 of the phenomenon and says that everything happened as though the theory were correct. That's what I am doing."
"That amounts to saying that you are going upon a supposition?"
Rénine did not reply. Not until some time later, when lunch was over, did he say:
"Obviously I am going upon a supposition. If I had several days before me, I should take the trouble of first verifying my theory, which is based upon intuition quite as much as upon a few scattered56 facts. But I have only two hours; and I am embarking57 on the unknown path as though I were certain that it would lead me to the truth."
"And suppose you are wrong?"
"I have no choice. Besides, it is too late. There's a knock. Oh, one word more! Whatever I may say, don't contradict me. Nor you, M. Dutreuil."
He opened the door. A thin man, with a red imperial, entered:
"Prince Rénine?"
"Yes, sir. You, of course, are from M. Dudouis?"
"Yes."
And the newcomer gave his name: "Chief-inspector Morisseau."
"I am obliged to you for coming so promptly58, Mr. Chief-inspector," said Prince Rénine, "and I hope that M. Dudouis will not regret having placed you at my disposal."
"At your entire disposal, in addition to two inspectors59 whom I have left in the square outside and who have been in the case, with me, from the first."
"I shall not detain you for any length of time," said Rénine, "and I will not even ask you to sit down. We have only a few minutes in which to settle everything. You know what it's all about?"
"The sixty thousand-franc notes stolen from M. Guillaume. I have the numbers here."
Rénine ran his eyes down the slip of paper which the chief-inspector handed him and said:
"That's right. The two lists agree."
Inspector Morisseau seemed greatly excited:
"The chief attaches the greatest importance to your discovery. So you will be able to show me?..."
Rénine was silent for a moment and then declared:
"Mr. Chief-inspector, a personal investigation--and a most exhaustive investigation it was, as I will explain to you presently--has revealed the fact that, on his return from Suresnes, the murderer, after replacing the motor-cycle in the shed in the Avenue du Roule, ran to the Ternes and entered this house."
"This house?"
"Yes."
"But what did he come here for?"
"To hide the proceeds of his theft, the sixty bank-notes."
"How do you mean? Where?"
"In a flat of which he had the key, on the fifth floor."
"But there's only one flat on the fifth floor and that's the one I live in!"
"Exactly; and, as you were at the cinema with Madame Aubrieux and her mother, advantage was taken of your absence...."
"Impossible! No one has the key except myself."
"One can get in without a key."
"But I have seen no marks of any kind."
Morisseau intervened:
"Come, let us understand one another. You say the bank-notes were hidden in M. Dutreuil's flat?"
"Yes."
"Then, as Jacques Aubrieux was arrested the next morning, the notes ought to be there still?"
"That's my opinion."
Gaston Dutreuil could not help laughing:
"But that's absurd! I should have found them!"
"Did you look for them?"
"No. But I should have come across them at any moment. The place isn't big enough to swing a cat in. Would you care to see it?"
"However small it may be, it's large enough to hold sixty bits of paper."
"Of course, everything is possible," said Dutreuil. "Still, I must repeat that nobody, to my knowledge, has been to my rooms; that there is only one key; that I am my own housekeeper62; and that I can't quite understand...."
Hortense too could not understand. With her eyes fixed63 on Prince Rénine's, she was trying to read his innermost thoughts. What game was he playing? Was it her duty to support his statements? She ended by saying:
"Mr. Chief-inspector, since Prince Rénine maintains that the notes have been put away upstairs, wouldn't the simplest thing be to go and look? M. Dutreuil will take us up, won't you?"
"This minute," said the young man. "As you say, that will be simplest."
They all four climbed the five storys of the house and, after Dutreuil had opened the door, entered a tiny set of chambers64 consisting of a sitting-room65, bedroom, kitchen and bathroom, all arranged with fastidious neatness. It was easy to see that every chair in the sitting-room occupied a definite place. The pipes had a rack to themselves; so had the matches. Three walking-sticks, arranged according to their length, hung from three nails. On a little table before the window a hat-box, filled with tissue-paper, awaited the felt hat which Dutreuil carefully placed in it. He laid his gloves beside it, on the lid.
He did all this with sedate66 and mechanical movements, like a man who loves to see things in the places which he has chosen for them. Indeed, no sooner did Rénine shift something than Dutreuil made a slight gesture of protest, took out his hat again, stuck it on his head, opened the window and rested his elbows on the sill, with his back turned to the room, as though he were unable to bear the sight of such vandalism.
"You're positive, are you not?" the inspector asked Rénine.
"Yes, yes, I'm positive that the sixty notes were brought here after the murder."
"Let's look for them."
This was easy and soon done. In half an hour, not a corner remained unexplored, not a knick-knack unlifted.
"Nothing," said Inspector Morisseau. "Shall we continue?"
"No," replied Rénine, "The notes are no longer here."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that they have been removed."
"By whom? Can't you make a more definite accusation67?"
Rénine did not reply. But Gaston Dutreuil wheeled round. He was choking and spluttered: "Mr. Inspector, would you like me to make the accusation more definite, as conveyed by this gentleman's remarks? It all means that there's a dishonest man here, that the notes hidden by the murderer were discovered and stolen by that dishonest man and deposited in another and safer place. That is your idea, sir, is it not? And you accuse me of committing this theft don't you?"
He came forward, drumming his chest with his fists: "Me! Me! I found the notes, did I, and kept them for myself? You dare to suggest that!"
Rénine still made no reply. Dutreuil flew into a rage and, taking Inspector Morisseau aside, exclaimed:
"Mr. Inspector, I strongly protest against all this farce68 and against the part which you are unconsciously playing in it. Before your arrival, Prince Rénine told this lady and myself that he knew nothing, that he was venturing into this affair at random69 and that he was following the first road that offered, trusting to luck. Do you deny it, sir?"
Rénine did not open his lips.
"Answer me, will you? Explain yourself; for, really, you are putting forward the most improbable facts without any proof whatever. It's easy enough to say that I stole the notes. And how were you to know that they were here at all? Who brought them here? Why should the murderer choose this flat to hide them in? It's all so stupid, so illogical and absurd!... Give us your proofs, sir ... one single proof!"
"Since you want specific details, we will get them from Madame Aubrieux herself. She's on the telephone. Let's go downstairs. We shall know all about it in a minute."
"As you please; but what a waste of time!"
He seemed greatly irritated. His long wait at the window, under a blazing sun, had thrown him into a sweat. He went to his bedroom and returned with a bottle of water, of which he took a few sips73, afterwards placing the bottle on the window-sill:
"Come along," he said.
"You seem to be in a hurry to leave the place."
"I'm in a hurry to show you up," retorted Dutreuil, slamming the door.
They went downstairs to the private room containing the telephone. The room was empty. Rénine asked Gaston Dutreuil for the Aubrieuxs' number, took down the instrument and was put through.
The maid who came to the telephone answered that Madame Aubrieux had fainted, after giving way to an access of despair, and that she was now asleep.
"Fetch her mother, please. Prince Rénine speaking. It's urgent."
He handed the second receiver to Morisseau. For that matter, the voices were so distinct that Dutreuil and Hortense were able to hear every word exchanged.
"Is that you, madame?"
"Yes. Prince Rénine, I believe?"
"Prince Rénine."
"Oh, sir, what news have you for me? Is there any hope?" asked the old lady, in a tone of entreaty75.
"The enquiry is proceeding76 very satisfactorily," said Rénine, "and you may hope for the best. For the moment, I want you to give me some very important particulars. On the day of the murder, did Gaston Dutreuil come to your house?"
"Yes, he came to fetch my daughter and myself, after lunch."
"Did he know at the time that M. Guillaume had sixty thousand francs at his place?"
"Yes, I told him."
"And that Jacques Aubrieux was not feeling very well and was proposing not to take his usual cycle-ride but to stay at home and sleep?"
"Yes."
"You are sure?"
"Absolutely certain."
"And you all three went to the cinema together?"
"Yes."
"And you were all sitting together?"
"Oh, no! There was no room. He took a seat farther away."
"A seat where you could see him?"
"No."
"No, we did not see him until we were going out."
"There is no doubt of that?"
"None at all."
"Very well, madame. I will tell you the result of my efforts in an hour's time. But above all, don't wake up Madame Aubrieux."
"And suppose she wakes of her own accord?"
He hung up the receiver and turned to Dutreuil, laughing:
"Ha, ha, my boy! Things are beginning to look clearer. What do you say?"
It was difficult to tell what these words meant or what conclusions Rénine had drawn45 from his conversation. The silence was painful and oppressive.
"Mr. Chief-Inspector, you have some of your men outside, haven't you?"
"Two detective-sergeants."
"It's important that they should be there. Please also ask the manager not to disturb us on any account."
And, when Morisseau returned, Rénine closed the door, took his stand in front of Dutreuil and, speaking in a good-humoured but emphatic80 tone, said:
"It amounts to this, young man, that the ladies saw nothing of you between three and five o'clock on that Sunday. That's rather a curious detail."
"A perfectly81 natural detail," Dutreuil retorted, "and one, moreover, which proves nothing at all."
"It proves, young man, that you had a good two hours at your disposal."
"Obviously. Two hours which I spent at the cinema."
"Or somewhere else."
Dutreuil looked at him:
"Somewhere else?"
"Yes. As you were free, you had plenty of time to go wherever you liked ... to Suresnes, for instance."
"Oh!" said the young man, jesting in his turn. "Suresnes is a long way off!"
"It's quite close! Hadn't you your friend Jacques Aubrieux's motor-cycle?"
A fresh pause followed these words. Dutreuil had knitted his brows as though he were trying to understand. At last he was heard to whisper:
Rénine brought down his hand on Dutreuil's shoulder:
"No more talk! Facts! Gaston Dutreuil, you are the only person who on that day knew two essential things: first, that Cousin Guillaume had sixty thousand francs in his house; secondly83, that Jacques Aubrieux was not going out. You at once saw your chance. The motor-cycle was available. You slipped out during the performance. You went to Suresnes. You killed Cousin Guillaume. You took the sixty bank-notes and left them at your rooms. And at five o'clock you went back to fetch the ladies."
Dutreuil had listened with an expression at once mocking and flurried, casting an occasional glance at Inspector Morisseau as though to enlist84 him as a witness:
"The man's mad," it seemed to say. "It's no use being angry with him."
When Rénine had finished, he began to laugh:
"Very funny!... A capital joke!... So it was I whom the neighbours saw going and returning on the motor-cycle?"
"It was you disguised in Jacques Aubrieux's clothes."
"And it was my finger-prints that were found on the bottle in M. Guillaume's pantry?"
"The bottle had been opened by Jacques Aubrieux at lunch, in his own house, and it was you who took it with you to serve as evidence."
"Funnier and funnier!" cried Dutreuil, who had the air of being frankly85 amused. "Then I contrived86 the whole affair so that Jacques Aubrieux might be accused of the crime?"
"It was the safest means of not being accused yourself."
"Yes, but Jacques is a friend whom I have known from childhood."
"You're in love with his wife."
The young man gave a sudden, infuriated start:
"I have proof of it."
"Apparently89. But you're in love with her. You desire her. Don't contradict me. I have abundant proof of it."
"That's a lie, I tell you! You have only known me a few hours!"
He took the young man by the shoulders and shook him:
"Come, Dutreuil, confess! I hold all the proofs in my hand. I have witnesses whom we shall meet presently at the criminal investigation department. Confess, can't you? In spite of everything, you're tortured by remorse91. Remember your dismay, at the restaurant, when you had seen the newspaper. What? Jacques Aubrieux condemned to die? That's more than you bargained for! Penal92 servitude would have suited your book; but the scaffold!... Jacques Aubrieux executed to-morrow, an innocent man!... Confess, won't you? Confess to save your own skin! Own up!"
Bending over the other, he was trying with all his might to extort93 a confession94 from him. But Dutreuil drew himself up and coldly, with a sort of scorn in his voice, said:
"Sir, you are a madman. Not a word that you have said has any sense in it. All your accusations95 are false. What about the bank-notes? Did you find them at my place as you said you would?"
"Oh, you swine, I'll dish you yet, I swear I will!"
He drew the inspector aside:
The inspector nodded his head:
"It may be.... But, all the same ... so far there's no real evidence."
"Wait, M. Morisseau," said Rénine. "Wait until we've had our interview with M. Dudouis. For we shall see M. Dudouis at the prefecture, shall we not?"
"Yes, he'll be there at three o'clock."
"Well, you'll be convinced, Mr. Inspector! I tell you here and now that you will be convinced."
Rénine was chuckling100 like a man who feels certain of the course of events. Hortense, who was standing35 near him and was able to speak to him without being heard by the others, asked, in a low voice:
"You've got him, haven't you?"
"Got him? I should think I have! All the same, I'm no farther forward than I was at the beginning."
"But this is awful! And your proofs?"
"Still, you're certain it's he?"
"It can't be any one else. I had an intuition at the very outset; and I've not taken my eyes off him since. I have seen his anxiety increasing as my investigations103 seemed to centre on him and concern him more closely. Now I know."
"And he's in love with Madame Aubrieux?"
"In logic70, he's bound to be. But so far we have only hypothetical suppositions, or rather certainties which are personal to myself. We shall never intercept104 the guillotine with those. Ah, if we could only find the bank-notes! Given the bank-notes, M. Dudouis would act. Without them, he will laugh in my face."
He did not reply. He walked up and down the room, assuming an air of gaiety and rubbing his hands. All was going so well! It was really a treat to take up a case which, so to speak, worked itself out automatically.
"Suppose we went on to the prefecture, M. Morisseau? The chief must be there by now. And, having gone so far, we may as well finish. Will M. Dutreuil come with us?"
"Why not?" said Dutreuil, arrogantly107.
But, just as Rénine was opening the door, there was a noise in the passage and the manager ran up, waving his arms:
"Is M. Dutreuil still here?... M. Dutreuil, your flat is on fire!... A man outside told us. He saw it from the square."
The young man's eyes lit up. For perhaps half a second his mouth was twisted by a smile which Rénine noticed:
"Oh, you ruffian!" he cried. "You've given yourself away, my beauty! It was you who set fire to the place upstairs; and now the notes are burning."
He blocked his exit.
"Let me pass," shouted Dutreuil. "There's a fire and no one can get in, because no one else has a key. Here it is. Let me pass, damn it!"
Rénine snatched the key from his hand and, holding him by the collar of his coat:
"Don't you move, my fine fellow! The game's up! You precious blackguard! M. Morisseau, will you give orders to the sergeant79 not to let him out of his sight and to blow out his brains if he tries to get away? Sergeant, we rely on you! Put a bullet into him, if necessary!..."
He hurried up the stairs, followed by Hortense and the chief inspector, who was protesting rather peevishly108:
"But, I say, look here, it wasn't he who set the place on fire! How do you make out that he set it on fire, seeing that he never left us?"
"Why, he set it on fire beforehand, to be sure!"
"How? I ask you, how?"
"How do I know? But a fire doesn't break out like that, for no reason at all, at the very moment when a man wants to burn compromising papers."
They heard a commotion109 upstairs. It was the waiters of the restaurant trying to burst the door open. An acrid110 smell filled the well of the stair-case.
Rénine reached the top floor:
"By your leave, friends. I have the key."
He inserted it in the lock and opened the door.
He was met by a gust111 of smoke so dense112 that one might well have supposed the whole floor to be ablaze113. Rénine at once saw that the fire had gone out of its own accord, for lack of fuel, and that there were no more flames:
"M. Morisseau, you won't let any one come in with us, will you? An intruder might spoil everything. Bolt the door, that will be best."
He stepped into the front room, where the fire had obviously had its chief centre. The furniture, the walls and the ceiling, though blackened by the smoke, had not been touched. As a matter of fact, the fire was confined to a blaze of papers which was still burning in the middle of the room, in front of the window.
Rénine struck his forehead:
"Why?" asked the inspector.
"The hat-box, of course! The cardboard hat-box which was standing on the table. That's where he hid the notes. They were there all through our search."
"Impossible!"
"Why, yes, we always overlook that particular hiding-place, the one just under our eyes, within reach of our hands! How could one imagine that a thief would leave sixty thousand francs in an open cardboard box, in which he places his hat when he comes in, with an absent-minded air? That's just the one place we don't look in.... Well played, M. Dutreuil!"
The inspector, who remained incredulous, repeated:
"No, no, impossible! We were with him and he could not have started the fire himself."
"Everything was prepared beforehand on the supposition that there might be an alarm.... The hat-box ... the tissue paper ... the bank-notes: they must all have been steeped in some inflammable liquid. He must have thrown a match, a chemical preparation or what not into it, as we were leaving."
"But we should have seen him, hang it all! And then is it credible114 that a man who has committed a murder for the sake of sixty thousand francs should do away with the money in this way? If the hiding-place was such a good one--and it was, because we never discovered it--why this useless destruction?"
"He got frightened, M. Morisseau. Remember that his head is at stake and he knows it. Anything rather than the guillotine; and they--the bank-notes--were the only proof which we had against him. How could he have left them where they were?"
Morisseau was flabbergasted:
"What! The only proof?"
"Why, obviously!"
"But your witnesses? Your evidence? All that you were going to tell the chief?"
"Would you have taken action without my bluff?"
"No."
"Then what more do you want?"
Rénine stooped to stir the ashes. But there was nothing left, not even those remnants of stiff paper which still retain their shape.
"Nothing," he said. "It's queer, all the same! How the deuce did he manage to set the thing alight?"
He stood up, looking attentively117 about him. Hortense had a feeling that he was making his supreme118 effort and that, after this last struggle in the dark, he would either have devised his plan of victory or admit that he was beaten.
"It's all up, isn't it?"
"No, no," he said, thoughtfully, "it's not all up. It was, a few seconds ago. But now there is a gleam of light ... and one that gives me hope."
"We must go slowly," he said. "It is only an attempt, but a fine, a very fine attempt; and it may succeed."
He was silent for a moment; then, with an amused smile and a click of the tongue, he said:
"An infernally clever fellow, that Dutreuil! His trick of burning the notes: what a fertile imagination! And what coolness! A pretty dance the beggar has led me! He's a master!"
He fetched a broom from the kitchen and swept a part of the ashes into the next room, returning with a hat-box of the same size and appearance as the one which had been burnt. After crumpling121 the tissue paper with which it was filled, he placed the hat-box on the little table and set fire to it with a match.
It burst into flames, which he extinguished when they had consumed half the cardboard and nearly all the paper. Then he took from an inner pocket of his waistcoat a bundle of bank-notes and selected six, which he burnt almost completely, arranging the remains122 and hiding the rest of the notes at the bottom of the box, among the ashes and the blackened bits of paper:
"M. Morisseau," he said, when he had done, "I am asking for your assistance for the last time. Go and fetch Dutreuil. Tell him just this: 'You are unmasked. The notes did not catch fire. Come with me.' And bring him up here."
Despite his hesitation and his fear of exceeding his instructions from the head of the detective service, the chief-inspector was powerless to throw off the ascendancy123 which Rénine had acquired over him. He left the room.
Rénine turned to Hortense:
"Do you understand my plan of battle?"
"Yes," she said, "but it's a dangerous experiment. Do you think that Dutreuil will fall into the trap?"
"Everything depends on the state of his nerves and the degree of demoralization to which he is reduced. A surprise attack may very well do for him."
"Nevertheless, suppose he recognizes by some sign that the box has been changed?"
"Oh, of course, he has a few chances in his favour! The fellow is much more cunning than I thought and quite capable of wriggling124 out of the trap. On the other hand, however, how uneasy he must be! How the blood must be buzzing in his ears and obscuring his sight! No, I don't think that he will avoid the trap.... He will give in.... He will give in...."
They exchanged no more words. Rénine did not move. Hortense was stirred to the very depths of her being. The life of an innocent man hung trembling in the balance. An error of judgment125, a little bad luck ... and, twelve hours later, Jacques Aubrieux would be put to death. And together with a horrible anguish105 she experienced, in spite of all, a feeling of eager curiosity. What was Prince Rénine going to do? What would be the outcome of the experiment on which he was venturing? What resistance would Gaston Dutreuil offer? She lived through one of those minutes of superhuman tension in which life becomes intensified126 until it reaches its utmost value.
They heard footsteps on the stairs, the footsteps of men in a hurry. The sound drew nearer. They were reaching the top floor.
Hortense looked at her companion. He had stood up and was listening, his features already transfigured by action. The footsteps were now echoing in the passage. Then, suddenly, he ran to the door and cried:
"Quick! Let's make an end of it!"
Two or three detectives and a couple of waiters entered. He caught hold of Dutreuil in the midst of the detectives and pulled him by the arm, gaily127 exclaiming:
"Well done, old man! That trick of yours with the table and the water-bottle was really splendid! A masterpiece, on my word! Only, it didn't come off!"
"What I say: the fire burnt only half the tissue-paper and the hat-box; and, though some of the bank-notes were destroyed, like the tissue-paper, the others are there, at the bottom.... You understand? The long-sought notes, the great proof of the murder: they're there, where you hid them.... As chance would have it, they've escaped burning.... Here, look: there are the numbers; you can check them.... Oh, you're done for, done for, my beauty!"
The young man drew himself up stiffly. His eyelids129 quivered. He did not accept Rénine's invitation to look; he examined neither the hat-box nor the bank-notes. From the first moment, without taking the time to reflect and before his instinct could warn him, he believed what he was told and collapsed heavily into a chair, weeping.
The surprise attack, to use Rénine's expression, had succeeded. On seeing all his plans baffled and the enemy master of his secrets, the wretched man had neither the strength nor the perspicacity130 necessary to defend himself. He threw up the sponge.
Rénine gave him no time to breathe:
"Capital! You're saving your head; and that's all, my good youth! Write down your confession and get it off your chest. Here's a fountain-pen.... The luck has been against you, I admit. It was devilishly well thought out, your trick of the last moment. You had the bank-notes which were in your way and which you wanted to destroy. Nothing simpler. You take a big, round-bellied water-bottle and stand it on the window-sill. It acts as a burning-glass, concentrating the rays of the sun on the cardboard and tissue-paper, all nicely prepared. Ten minutes later, it bursts into flames. A splendid idea! And, like all great discoveries, it came quite by chance, what? It reminds one of Newton's apple.... One day, the sun, passing through the water in that bottle, must have set fire to a scrap131 of cotton or the head of a match; and, as you had the sun at your disposal just now, you said to yourself, 'Now's the time,' and stood the bottle in the right position. My congratulations, Gaston!... Look, here's a sheet of paper. Write down: 'It was I who murdered M. Guillaume.' Write, I tell you!"
Leaning over the young man, with all his implacable force of will he compelled him to write, guiding his hand and dictating132 the sentences. Dutreuil, exhausted, at the end of his strength, wrote as he was told.
"Here's the confession, Mr. Chief-inspector," said Rénine. "You will be good enough to take it to M. Dudouis. These gentlemen," turning to the waiters, from the restaurant, "will, I am sure, consent to serve as witnesses."
And, seeing that Dutreuil, overwhelmed by what had happened, did not move, he gave him a shake:
"Hi, you, look alive! Now that you've been fool enough to confess, make an end of the job, my gentle idiot!"
The other watched him, standing in front of him.
"Obviously," Rénine continued, "you're only a simpleton. The hat-box was fairly burnt to ashes: so were the notes. That hat-box, my dear fellow, is a different one; and those notes belong to me. I even burnt six of them to make you swallow the stunt133. And you couldn't make out what had happened. What an owl61 you must be! To furnish me with evidence at the last moment, when I hadn't a single proof of my own! And such evidence! A written confession! Written before witnesses!... Look here, my man, if they do cut off your head--as I sincerely hope they will--upon my word, you'll have jolly well deserved it! Good-bye, Dutreuil!"
Downstairs, in the street, Rénine asked Hortense Daniel to take the car, go to Madeleine Aubrieux and tell her what had happened.
"And you?" asked Hortense.
"I have a lot to do ... urgent appointments...."
"And you deny yourself the pleasure of bringing the good news?"
"It's one of the pleasures that pall134 upon one. The only pleasure that never flags is that of the fight itself. Afterwards, things cease to be interesting."
She took his hand and for a moment held it in both her own. She would have liked to express all her admiration135 to that strange man, who seemed to do good as a sort of game and who did it with something like genius. But she was unable to speak. All these rapid incidents had upset her. Emotion constricted136 her throat and brought the tears to her eyes.
Rénine bowed his head, saying:
"Thank you. I have my reward."
点击
收听单词发音
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1
alluding
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| 提及，暗指( allude的现在分词 ) | |
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2
duel
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| n./v.决斗；(双方的)斗争 | |
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3
expounded
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| 论述，详细讲解( expound的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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4
initiated
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| n. 创始人 adj. 新加入的 vt. 开始，创始，启蒙，介绍加入 | |
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5
expend
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| vt.花费，消费，消耗 | |
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6
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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7
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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8
insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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refreshments
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| n.点心,便餐;(会议后的)简单茶点招 待 | |
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10
stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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11
reprieve
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| n.暂缓执行（死刑）；v.缓期执行；给…带来缓解 | |
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12
condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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13
agitation
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| n.搅动；搅拌；鼓动，煽动 | |
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14
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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15
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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16
ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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17
beckoned
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| v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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18
chauffeur
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| n.(受雇于私人或公司的)司机；v.为…开车 | |
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19
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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20
briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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21
incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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22
monstrous
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| adj.巨大的；恐怖的；可耻的，丢脸的 | |
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23
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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25
infamy
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| n.声名狼藉，出丑，恶行 | |
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26
obsession
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| n.困扰，无法摆脱的思想(或情感) | |
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27
innocence
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| n.无罪；天真；无害 | |
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28
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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29
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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30
implore
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| vt.乞求，恳求，哀求 | |
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31
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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32
torment
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| n.折磨；令人痛苦的东西(人)；vt.折磨；纠缠 | |
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33
subduing
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| 征服( subdue的现在分词 )； 克制； 制服； 色变暗 | |
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34
persuasion
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| n.劝说；说服；持有某种信仰的宗派 | |
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35
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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36
plausible
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| adj.似真实的，似乎有理的，似乎可信的 | |
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37
prosecution
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| n.起诉，告发，检举，执行，经营 | |
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38
fingerprints
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| n.指纹( fingerprint的名词复数 )v.指纹( fingerprint的第三人称单数 ) | |
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39
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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40
intervention
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| n.介入，干涉，干预 | |
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41
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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42
adverse
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| adj.不利的；有害的；敌对的，不友好的 | |
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43
collapsed
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| adj.倒塌的 | |
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44
withdrawn
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| vt.收回；使退出；vi.撤退，退出 | |
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45
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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46
meditation
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| n.熟虑，（尤指宗教的）默想，沉思，（pl.）冥想录 | |
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47
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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48
resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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49
investigation
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| n.调查，调查研究 | |
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50
inspector
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| n.检查员，监察员，视察员 | |
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51
acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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52
gentry
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| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
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53
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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54
indictment
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| n.起诉；诉状 | |
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55
manifestations
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| n.表示，显示（manifestation的复数形式） | |
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56
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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57
embarking
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| 乘船( embark的现在分词 )； 装载； 从事 | |
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58
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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59
inspectors
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| n.检查员( inspector的名词复数 )；（英国公共汽车或火车上的）查票员；（警察）巡官；检阅官 | |
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60
amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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61
owl
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| n.猫头鹰，枭 | |
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62
housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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63
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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64
chambers
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| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
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65
sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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66
sedate
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| adj.沉着的，镇静的，安静的 | |
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67
accusation
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| n.控告，指责，谴责 | |
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68
farce
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| n.闹剧，笑剧，滑稽戏；胡闹 | |
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69
random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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70
logic
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| n.逻辑(学)；逻辑性 | |
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71
perplexed
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| adj.不知所措的 | |
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72
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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73
sips
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| n.小口喝，一小口的量( sip的名词复数 )v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的第三人称单数 ) | |
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74
chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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75
entreaty
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| n.恳求，哀求 | |
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76
proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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77
interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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78
reassure
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| v.使放心，使消除疑虑 | |
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79
sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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80
emphatic
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| adj.强调的，着重的；无可置疑的，明显的 | |
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81
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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82
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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83
secondly
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| adv.第二，其次 | |
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84
enlist
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| vt.谋取(支持等)，赢得；征募；vi.入伍 | |
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85
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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86
contrived
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| adj.不自然的，做作的；虚构的 | |
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87
infamous
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| adj.声名狼藉的，臭名昭著的，邪恶的 | |
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revered
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| v.崇敬，尊崇，敬畏( revere的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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90
pounce
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| n.猛扑；v.猛扑，突然袭击，欣然同意 | |
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91
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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92
penal
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| adj.刑罚的；刑法上的 | |
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93
extort
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| v.勒索，敲诈，强要 | |
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94
confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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95
accusations
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| n.指责( accusation的名词复数 )；指控；控告；（被告发、控告的）罪名 | |
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96
exasperated
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| adj.恼怒的 | |
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97
clenched
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| v.紧握，抓紧，咬紧( clench的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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arrant
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| adj.极端的；最大的 | |
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99
rogue
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| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
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100
chuckling
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
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101
assent
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| v.批准，认可；n.批准，认可 | |
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102
rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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103
investigations
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| （正式的）调查( investigation的名词复数 )； 侦查； 科学研究； 学术研究 | |
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104
intercept
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| vt.拦截，截住，截击 | |
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105
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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106
anguished
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| adj.极其痛苦的v.使极度痛苦(anguish的过去式) | |
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107
arrogantly
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| adv.傲慢地 | |
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108
peevishly
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| adv．暴躁地 | |
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109
commotion
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| n.骚动，动乱 | |
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110
acrid
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| adj.辛辣的，尖刻的，刻薄的 | |
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111
gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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113
ablaze
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| adj.着火的，燃烧的；闪耀的，灯火辉煌的 | |
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114
credible
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| adj.可信任的，可靠的 | |
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115
bluff
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| v.虚张声势，用假象骗人；n.虚张声势，欺骗 | |
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116
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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117
attentively
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| adv.聚精会神地；周到地；谛；凝神 | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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119
faltering
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| 犹豫的，支吾的，蹒跚的 | |
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120
justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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121
crumpling
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| 压皱，弄皱( crumple的现在分词 )； 变皱 | |
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122
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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123
ascendancy
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| n.统治权，支配力量 | |
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124
wriggling
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的现在分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等）；蠕蠕 | |
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125
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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126
intensified
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| v.（使）增强， （使）加剧( intensify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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127
gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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128
mumbled
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| 含糊地说某事，叽咕，咕哝( mumble的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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129
eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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130
perspicacity
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| n. 敏锐, 聪明, 洞察力 | |
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131
scrap
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| n.碎片；废料；v.废弃，报废 | |
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132
dictating
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| v.大声讲或读( dictate的现在分词 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
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133
stunt
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| n.惊人表演，绝技，特技；vt.阻碍...发育，妨碍...生长 | |
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134
pall
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| v.覆盖，使平淡无味；n.柩衣，棺罩；棺材；帷幕 | |
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135
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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136
constricted
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| adj.抑制的，约束的 | |
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