XVII
AN ARREST
The day after his memorable talk with Juve, Fandor was summoned toappear before the police magistrate, because he could give evidenceregarding the rue Raffet affair, and had saved Elizabeth Dollon's life.
It was about four in the afternoon, and he had just entered the passageleading to the offices so familiar to him, when he met Elizabeth. Behindher came several persons whom he recognised: among them were theBarbey-Nanteuil partners, Madame Bourrat, and the servant, Jules. Theywere together and were talking. The moment she saw him, Elizabeth wentup to him.
"Ah, monsieur!" she cried, with a reproachful look. "We had given up allhope of seeing you.... Just imagine, the magistrate has finished hisenquiry already! Twice he asked if you had come!"
Fandor seemed surprised.
"The summons was for four this afternoon, was it not?" he asked, takingfrom his pocket the summoning letter. A glance showed that he was notmistaken: he gave Elizabeth the letter to read. She smiled.
"You were summoned for four o'clock, I see; but we had to appearearlier: I was examined as soon as I arrived, and I was summoned toappear at half-past two."
Fandor was annoyed with himself: he might have guessed it! He was vexedbecause he had not been on the watch in the passage whilst thisexamination was proceeding. He was moving towards Monsieur Fuselier'sroom, the magistrate in charge of the Auteuil affair, and he must havelooked his vexation, for Elizabeth said:
"I am a little to blame, perhaps, that you had not due notice, but whatcould I do! Yesterday evening when you telephoned to the convent to askfor news of me, I was just going to tell you at what time I wassummoned, but when I went to the telephone...."
"What's this you are telling me?" asked Fandor, staring hard atElizabeth. "I never telephoned to you yesterday evening. Who told you Ihad been asking for you on the telephone?"
"Nobody said so; but I supposed it was you! Who else would be so kindlyinterested in my doings?"
Fandor made no reply to this. Here was the telephone mystery again--analarming mystery. Elizabeth had not given her address to anyone: Fandorhad been careful not to give it to a soul.... Clearly, this poor girl,even in the heart of this peaceful convent, was not secure from someunknown, outside interference; and Fandor, optimist though he was, couldnot help shuddering at the thought of these mysterious adversaries,implacable and formidable, who might work harm to this unfortunate girl,whose devoted protector he now was.... Besides ... did he not feel forJacques Dollon's pretty sister something sweeter and more tender thanpure sympathy?... Whenever he was near her, did he not experience athrill of emotion? Fandor did not analyse his feelings, but theyinfluenced him unconsciously.
He turned to Elizabeth.
"Since you cannot remain any longer at the convent, where do you thinkof staying?"
"Well, monsieur, I shall go back to the convent this evening, though itis painful to me--very, very painful--to be obliged to accept their icyhospitality ... as for to-morrow!"
Fandor was about to make a suggestion, when the door of MonsieurFuselier's room opened half-way. The magistrate's clerk appeared, and,glancing round the passage over his spectacles, called, in a dull tone:
"Monsieur Jerome Fandor!"
"Here!" replied our journalist. "I am coming!"
Then, taking a hasty farewell of Elizabeth as he went towards themagistrate's room, he whispered:
"Wait for me, mademoiselle; and, for the love of Heaven, rememberthis--whatever I may say, whatever happens, whether we are alone,together, or in the presence of others, whether it be in a few minutes,or later on, do not be astonished at what may befall you, even though itbe my fault--be absolutely convinced of this--whatever I may do will befor your good--more than that I must not say!"
Elizabeth had not a word to say, but his words were humming and buzzingin her ears when Fandor was in the magistrate's room.
With a cordial handshake, Monsieur Fuselier began by congratulating himon having saved Elizabeth Dollon's life.
"Ah," said he, smiling, "you journalists have all the luck; and, betweenyourselves, I envy you a little, for your lucky star has led you to thediscovery of a drama, and has enabled you to prevent a fatal ending toit. Now, do you not think, as I do, that this Auteuil affair is not acase of suicide, but of attempted assassination?"
"There is no doubt about it," replied Fandor quietly.
The magistrate drew himself up with a satisfied air.
"That is also my opinion--has been so from the start."
The clerk now interrupted the two men, who were talking as friendsrather than as magistrate and witness, asking, in nasal tone:
"Does His Honour wish to take the evidence of Monsieur Jerome Fandor?"
"In four lines then. I do not think Monsieur Fandor has anything more totell us than what he has already told us in the columns of _LaCapitale_. That is so, is it not?" asked the magistrate, looking atFandor.
"That is correct," replied our journalist.
The clerk rapidly drew up the deposition of Monsieur Jerome Fandor, indue form, and read it aloud in a monotonous voice.
Fandor signed it. It did not compromise him at all. He was about toleave when Monsieur Fuselier caught him by the arm.
"Please wait a minute! There are one or two points to be cleared up: Iam going to ask the witnesses a few questions: we will have a generalconfrontation--we will compare evidence!"
Then, the journalist's friend, now all the magistrate, asked theassembled witnesses certain questions, in an emphatic and professionaltone.
Fandor, seated a little apart, had leisure to examine the faces of thedifferent persons whom circumstances had brought together in this room.
His first look was for Elizabeth: energy and courage were plainly markedon her pretty, sad face. Then there was the proprietor of the Auteuilboarding-house: an honest, vulgar creature, red-faced, perpetuallymopping her brow and raising her hands to heaven; ready to bewail herposition, deploring the untimely publicity given to this affair, apublicity which threatened discredit to her boarding-house.
As he was seated directly behind the manservant, Jules, Fandor had aview of his broad back, surmounted by a big bullet head and ruffledhair. This witness spoke with a strong Picardy accent, and there wasnothing remarkable about his answers: he seemed the conventionalsecond-rate type of servant. He did not seem to have understood much ofwhat occurred on the famous day: when questioned as to the order ofevents, his answers were vague, uncertain.
Then, seated beside Fandor were the bankers: Barbey, a grave-lookingman, no longer young, judging by his beard, which was going grey; he wasdecorated with the Legion of Honour: the other, Nanteuil, looked aboutthirty, elegant, distinguished, lively. These two were well known in thehighest Parisian society as representing finance of the best kind. Theywere highly thought of.
The magistrate asked the bankers a question.
"Why," asked he, "did Messieurs Barbey-Nanteuil call on MademoiselleDollon? Was it to bring her some help, as has been stated?"
Elizabeth blushed with humiliation at the magistrate's question.Monsieur Nanteuil answered:
"There is a slight distinction to be made, your Honour, and MademoiselleDollon certainly will not object to our mentioning it. It never enteredour minds to offer Mademoiselle Dollon charity--charity she never askedof us, be it clearly understood. Mademoiselle Dollon, with whom we hadpreviously been acquainted, whose misfortunes have inspired us with deepsympathy, wrote to ask us if we could find her some employment. Hopingto find some post for her, we came to see her, to talk with her, to findout what her capabilities were. That is all. We were very glad it sohappened, that we were able to aid Monsieur Fandor in restoring her tolife."
"Can you tell me, Monsieur Fandor, did you notice anything suspicious inMademoiselle Dollon's room when you entered it? You wrote, in yourarticle, that at first you had thought it simply an attempted burglary,followed by an attempted murder?"
"That is so," replied Fandor. "Directly the wind
ow was opened, I leanedout: I wanted to see if there was anything suspicious on the wall of thehouse. I also looked behind the shutters."
"Why?" asked the examining magistrate.
"Because I had not forgotten the close of the Thomery drama--the sameMonsieur Thomery mentioned in the Assize Court yesterday--oh, in allhonour, of course; but you have not forgotten--although that examinationwas not in your hands, and I regret it, because I am of the opinion thatthere are points of connection interlinking all these mysteriousaffairs--you have not forgotten, I am sure, that when the investigationswere over and Monsieur Thomery's guests had been allowed to leave thehouse, that a thread of flax was discovered hanging to the windowfastening of the room in which Princess Danidoff had been foundunconscious. This flax thread was very strong, and was broken at theend: it is easy to conclude that the stolen pearls had been temporarilyfastened to it. This led me to think that the aggressor, or aggressors,had remained in the reception rooms during the whole course of theinvestigations, since it is proved that no one left the house....
"... But, after all, we are not here to investigate the Thomeryaffair.... I wished to explain why I had examined the window andshutters Of Mademoiselle Dollon's room: I wanted to ascertain whetherthe procedure of the would-be murderer of Mademoiselle Dollon wassimilar to that of the robber in the Danidoff-Thomery case."
"And what conclusion did you come to?" asked the magistrate.
"Window and shutters bore no traces that I could see," said Fandor. "Icould not come to any conclusion."
Here Monsieur Barbey intervened.
"If I may be allowed to say so"--he glanced at the magistrate for therequired permission, which was given with a smile and gesture ofassent--"I quite agree with Monsieur Jerome Fandor. I also am convincedthat, even if there is not a close connection between the Thomery affairand the Auteuil affair, at least there exists such a connection betweenthe Auteuil affair and the terrible drama of rue Norvins."
"I would go even further than that," declared Monsieur Nanteuil. "Therobbery of rue du Quatre Septembre, of which we are the victims, is alsoconnected with this same series of mysterious cases."
The magistrate asked a question.
"It is a matter of twenty millions, is it not? It must have been aterrible blow to you?"
"Fearful, monsieur," replied Monsieur Nanteuil. "Our credit was shaken:it affected a considerable number of our clients, Monsieur Thomeryamong them, and we consider him one of our most important clients. Youare aware, of course, that in financial matters confidence is almosteverything!... Our losses have just been covered by an insurance, but wehave suffered other than direct material losses. Still"--the bankerturned towards Elizabeth, who was wiping tears from her eyes--"still,what are our troubles compared with those which have struck MademoiselleDollon blow upon blow? Assassination of the Baroness de Vibray,mysterious death----"
"The Baroness de Vibray was not assassinated, she committed suicide,"interrupted Fandor sharply. "Most certainly, I do not wish to make youresponsible for that, gentlemen; but when you wrote, announcing herruin, you dealt her a very hard blow!"
"Could we have done otherwise?" replied Monsieur Barbey, with hiscustomary gravity of manner and tone. "In our matter of fact business,where all must be clear and definite, we do not mince our words: we arebound to state things as they actually are. What is more, we do notshare your point of view, and are convinced that the Baroness de Vibraywas certainly murdered."
Monsieur Fuselier now expressed his opinion, or at least, what he wishedto be considered as his opinion:
"Gentlemen, consider yourselves for the moment as not in the presence ofthe examining magistrate, but as being in the drawing-room of MonsieurFuselier. In my private capacity, I will give you my opinion regardingthe rue Norvins affair. I am decidedly less and less in agreement withMonsieur Fandor, though I recognise with pleasure his fine detectivegifts."
"Thanks," interrupted Fandor ironically. "That is a poor compliment!"
Smiling, the magistrate continued:
"I am of the same opinion as Messieurs Barbey-Nanteuil: I believe Madamede Vibray was murdered."
Fandor could not control his impatience.
"Be logical, messieurs, I beg of you!" he cried. "The Baroness deVibray committed suicide. Her letter states her intention. Theauthenticity of this letter has not been disputed. The disastrousrevelations, contained in Messieurs Barbey-Nanteuil's communication,proved too severe a shock for the poor lady's unbalanced brain: the newsof her ruin, abruptly conveyed, drove her to desperation. The death ofthe Baroness de Vibray was voluntary and self-inflicted."
There was a dead silence. Then Monsieur Barbey asked a question.
"Well, then, Monsieur Fandor, will you explain to us how it happenedthat the Baroness de Vibray was found dead in the studio of the painter,Jacques Dollon?"
Fandor seemed to expect this question from the banker.
"There are two hypotheses," he declared. "The first, and, in my humbleopinion, the more improbable, is this: Madame de Vibray at the same timethat she decided to put an end to her life, wished to pay her protege alast visit; all the more so, because he had asked her to come and seehis work before it was sent in to the Salon. Perhaps the Baronessintended to perform an act of charity, in this instance, before hersupreme hour struck. Perhaps she miscalculated the effect of the poisonshe had taken, and so died in the house of the friend she had come tosee and help: her death there could not have been her choice, for shemust have known what serious trouble it would involve the artist in,were her dead body found in his studio.
"Here is the second hypothesis, which seems the more plausible. TheBaroness de Vibray learns that she is ruined, she decides to die, and bychance or coincidence, which remains to be explained, for I have not thekey to it yet, some third parties interested in her fate, learn herdecision. They let her write to her lawyer; they do not prevent herpoisoning herself; but, as soon as she is dead, they straightway takepossession of her dead body and hasten to carry it to Jacques Dollon'sstudio. To the painter himself they administered either with his consentor by force--probably by force--a powerful narcotic, so that when thepolice are called in next day they not only find the Baroness lying deadin the studio, but they also find the painter unconscious, close by hisvisitor. When Jacques Dollon is restored to consciousness, he is quiteunable to give any sort of explanation of the tragedy; naturally enough,the police look upon him as the murderer of her who was well known tohave been his patroness.... How does that strike you?"
It was now Monsieur Fuselier's turn to hold forth.
"You forget a detail which has its importance! I do not pretend to judgeas to whether she was poisoned by her own free act or not; but, in anycase, we have this proof--an uncorked phial of cyanide of potassium wasfound in Jacques Dollon's studio. It seemed to have been recentlyopened; but, when the painter was questioned about it, he declared thathe had not made use of this ingredient for a very long time."
Fandor replied:
"I can turn your argument against you, monsieur. If the Baroness deVibray had been poisoned, voluntarily or not, with the cyanide ofpotassium in Dollon's studio, he would have taken the precaution tobanish all traces of the poison in question. It would have been hisfirst care! When questioned by the police inspector, he would not havedeclared that he had not made use of this poison for a very long time!the contradiction involved is proof that Dollon was sincere; therefore,we are faced by a fact which, if not inexplicable, is, at least,unexplained."
Monsieur Barbey now had something to say:
"You criticise and hair-split in a remarkable fashion, monsieur, and arean adept in the science of induction; but, let me say without offencemeant, that you give me the impression of being rather a romancingjournalist than a judicial investigator!... Admitting that the Baronessde Vibray was carried to the painter Dollon's studio after her death,and that seems to be your opinion, what advantage would it be to thecriminals to act in such a fashion?"
Jerome Fandor had risen, h
is eyes shining, his body vibrating withexcitement.
"I expected your question, monsieur," he cried; "and the answer issimple. The mysterious criminals seized the Baroness de Vibray's bodyand brought it to Dollon's studio to create an alibi, and to castsuspicion on an innocent man. As you know, the stratagem was successful:two hours after the discovery of the crime, the police arrestedMademoiselle Dollon's unfortunate brother!"
With a dramatic gesture Fandor pointed to Elizabeth, who, no longer ableto contain her grief, was weeping bitterly.
The audience had risen, moved, troubled, subjugated, in spite ofthemselves, by the journalist's eloquent and persuasive tones. EvenMonsieur Fuselier had quitted his classic green leather arm-chair andhad approached the two bankers: Madame Bourrat was behind them, and theservant, Jules, with his smooth face and staring eyes.
Fandor continued:
"This is not all, messieurs!... There is still something that must besaid, and I beg of you to listen with all your attention, for what theresult of my declarations will be, I do not know! It is no longer myreason that speaks, instinct dictates my words! Listen!..."
It was a poignant moment! All the witnesses, the magistrate included,were thrilled with the certainty that the journalist was about to make asensational revelation.
Taking his time, Jerome Fandor walked slowly, quietly up to Elizabethwho, distraught with grief, was in floods of tears.
"Mademoiselle," he said, in a clear level voice, which was in strangecontrast with his recent persuasive and authoritative tones."Mademoiselle, you must tell us everything!... You are here, not in thepresence of a judge, and of enemies, but amidst friends who wish younothing but good.... I understand your affectionate feelings, I knowwhat an unreasoning, but quite natural, attachment you have for yourunfortunate brother--but, mademoiselle, it is now imperatively necessarythat you should do violence to yourself--you must tell us the truth, thewhole truth!"
Interrupting his appeal to Elizabeth, Fandor turned to the magistratewith a smile so enigmatic that his audience could not tell whether hewas speaking sincerely or was acting a part.
"I have contended in my articles up to now that Jacques Dollon was dead,dead beyond recall; but when confronted with recent facts my theoryseems to fall to the ground." Fandor turned once more to Elizabeth,resuming his authoritative tone and manner: "Since the affair of theDepot, the legal authorities have recognised indelible traces of JacquesDollon's hand in the series of crimes which have been recentlyperpetrated. Up to the present, I have determinedly denied such apossibility. But, mademoiselle, I put it to you: you have forgotten totell us something of the very utmost importance, something quite out ofthe range of ordinary happenings, something phenomenal. Now here is thestaggering fact I am faced with! The other day, between two and three inthe afternoon, at the Auteuil boarding-house where you are staying, youreceived a visit from your brother, Jacques Dollon, the supposed robberof the Princess Sonia Danidoff's pearls, the suspected author of therobbery of rue du Quatre Septembre; and, lastly, the fratricide, forwhat other explanation of the attack on you can be given--an attemptedmurder beyond question--and I add ..." Fandor could not continue. Hiseyes were fixed on those of Elizabeth who, at the first words addressedto her by the journalist, had started up, trembling from head tofoot.... Their glances met, challenging, each seeking to quell, tosubjugate the other.... It seemed to the onlookers that they werewitnessing an intense struggle between two very strong natures separatedby a deep, a fathomless gulf; that a veil, dark as night, hangingbetween them had been rent asunder, giving passage to an illuminatingflash; that this luminous ray carried with it all the revelations andthe key to the fantastic mystery!
But to a calm, perspicacious observer of the two beings standing face toface, it would have been clear that Jerome Fandor's real attitude wasboth suppliant and persuasive, and that Elizabeth Dollon's was one ofoverwhelming surprise.
Monsieur Fuselier, carried away by the journalist's startling andextraordinary statements, did not perceive this. Suddenly, he saw inJerome Fandor the denunciator, and in Elizabeth Dollon, the accompliceunmasked. Nevertheless, he said quietly:
"Monsieur Fandor, you have just uttered words of such gravity that youare bound to confirm them by indisputable evidence. Do you mean topersist on these lines?"
Fandor looked away from the stupefied Elizabeth and her questioningglance: he answered the magistrate at once.
"The proof of what I advance, you will find by searching MademoiselleDollon's room.... I would rather not say more than that...."
"Allow me to state, monsieur, that I cannot arrange for such aninvestigation until to-morrow morning!"
Then, addressing the astounded Madame Bourrat, the two bankers, and themanservant, Jules.
"Madame, messieurs, will you be kind enough to withdraw? Madame, Iadvise you, under pain of the most serious consequences, not to allowanyone whatever to enter your premises, nor go into MademoiselleDollon's room, before this matter has been fully sifted by the legalauthorities. Be good enough to wait in the passage--all of you!"
Having witnessed their exit, the magistrate walked up to Fandor, andlooking him straight in the eyes said:
"Well!... Out with it!"
"Well," replied the journalist, "if you institute a search in the placeI have indicated, you will find, in the chest of drawers, under a pileof Mademoiselle Dollon's personal linen a piece of soap wrapped up in acambric handkerchief. Take this soap to Monsieur Bertillon's department,and after the scientific tests have been applied to it, you will be ableto say that it bears distinct impressions of Dollon's hand!"
"Dollon's?"
The magistrate gasped.
Elizabeth Dollon had fallen back into the arm-chair, from which she hadrisen all trembling. Her tears had ceased. She stared at the two menwith wide open, terrified eyes. All the time, the clerk in spectacleswrote steadily on at his table, noting down the details of the scenes hewas witnessing.
There was a palpitating silence.
Monsieur Fuselier had returned to his writing table.
Jerome Fandor seemed to have recovered his composure, an ironic smilecurved his lips beneath his small moustache, whilst his hand sought thatof Elizabeth: it was the only way he could, at the moment, express thesympathy he had never ceased to feel for her.
Monsieur Fuselier filled in a printed paper and pressed an electricbell.
Two municipal guards appeared.
Monsieur Fuselier rose and signing to the soldiers to wait, he facedElizabeth Dollon.
"Mademoiselle, have you any objections to make to the statements ofMonsieur Jerome Fandor? Will you say whether or no you received a visitfrom your brother?"
Elizabeth, tortured by intense emotion, her throat contracted, strove invain to pronounce a word; at last, by a supreme effort, she murmured ina strangled voice:
"Oh! Why, you are all mad here!"
As she gave no direct reply to his question, Monsieur Fuselier, after apause, announced in a grave voice:
"Mademoiselle! Until I have more ample information, I am under the cruelnecessity of ordering your arrest!... Guards, arrest the accused!" criedthe magistrate sternly.
Elizabeth Dollon made a movement of revolt, when she saw herselfsurrounded and felt her arms seized by the two representatives ofauthority. She was about to cry out in protest, but a glance--it seemedto her a tender glance--from Fandor restrained her.... She stoodspeechless, inert. After all, had she not confidence in him, althoughshe could not understand his attitude! Had he not been her staunchdefender up to now? Had he not warned her that she must not beastonished at anything that occurred--that she must be prepared foranything?... Nevertheless, Elizabeth Dollon felt her brain reeling--shewas astounded beyond words.... The surprise was too strong for her....
* * * * *
About a quarter of an hour after this tragic scene, Fandor was pacing upand down the asphalt of the boulevard du Palais, plunged in thought,when someone clapped him on the shoulder. He t
urned. It was MonsieurFuselier.
"Well, my dear fellow!" cried the magistrate, resuming his customarytone of good fellowship. "Well, what an adventure! You have been playingsome fine tricks! I never expected such a stroke as that, the deuce if Idid!"
"Ho, ho!" laughed Fandor, "I think that a week from to-day we shall knowa good many things!"
"Well," replied the magistrate, "I have had the girl placed in solitaryconfinement--that makes them willing to speak out!...."
Fandor looked the magistrate up and down.
"Ah!" murmured he, with a scarcely perceptible note of contempt in hisvoice:
"You think you will extract information from that quarter, do you?"
"But why not? Why not?" interrupted the dapper Monsieur Fuselier, in asprightly tone; and, leaving Fandor abruptly, he leapt into a passingtramcar.
Fandor watched Fuselier cross the road and climb to an outside seat.Whilst the magistrate waved a friendly farewell from the top of thedisappearing car, Fandor shrugged disdainful shoulders, and, withpitying lips, muttered one word:
"Fool!"