Part 56 (1/2)

Don Luis recognized the Prefect of Police by his voice; and the question put by the Prefect told him, first, that Mazeroux had been released from the dark closet where he had bound him up, and, secondly, that the sergeant was in the next room. Fortunately, the sliding panel had worked without the least sound; and Don Luis was able to overhear the conversation between the two men.

”No, nothing new, Monsieur le Prefet,” replied Mazeroux.

”That's funny. The confounded fellow must be somewhere. Or can he have got away over the roof?”

”Impossible, Monsieur le Prefet,” said a third voice, which Don Luis recognized as that of Weber, the deputy chief detective. ”Impossible. We made certain yesterday, that unless he has wings--”

”Then what do you think, Weber?”

”I think, Monsieur le Prefet, that he is concealed in the house. This is an old house and probably contains some safe hiding-place--”

”Of course, of course,” said M. Desmalions, whom Don Luis, peeping through the curtains, saw walking to and fro in front of the alcove.

”You're right; and we shall catch him in his burrow. Only, is it really necessary?”

”Monsieur le Prefet!”

”Well, you know my opinion on the subject, which is also the Prime Minister's opinion. Unearthing Lupin would be a blunder which we should end by regretting. After all, he's become an honest man, you know; he's useful to us and he does no harm--”

”No harm, Monsieur le Prefet? Do you think so?” said Weber stiffly.

M. Desmalions burst out laughing.

”Oh, of course, yesterday's trick, the telephone trick! You must admit it was funny. The Premier had to hold his sides when I told him of it.”

”Upon my word, I see nothing to laugh at!”

”No, but, all the same, the rascal is never at a loss. Funny or not, the trick was extraordinarily daring. To cut the telephone wire before your eyes and then blockade you behind that iron curtain! By the way, Mazeroux, you must get the telephone repaired this morning, so as to keep in touch with the office. Have you begun your search in these two rooms?”

”As you ordered, Monsieur le Prefet. The deputy chief and I have been hunting round for the last hour.”

”Yes,” said M. Desmalions, ”that Florence Leva.s.seur strikes me as a troublesome creature. She is certainly an accomplice. But what were her relations with Sauverand and what was her connection with Don Luis Perenna? That's what I should like to know. Have you discovered nothing in her papers?”

”No, Monsieur le Prefet,” said Mazeroux. ”Nothing but bills and tradesmen's letters.”

”And you, Weber?”

”I've found something very interesting, Monsieur le Prefet.”

Weber spoke in a triumphant tone, and, in answer to M. Desmalions's question, went on:

”This is a volume of Shakespeare, Monsieur le Prefet, Volume VIII. You will see that, contrary to the other volumes, the inside is empty and the binding forms a secret receptacle for hiding doc.u.ments.”

”Yes. What sort of doc.u.ments?”

”Here they are: sheets of paper, blank sheets, all but three. One of them gives a list of the dates on which the mysterious letters were to appear.”

”Oho!” said M. Desmalions. ”That's a crus.h.i.+ng piece of evidence against Florence Leva.s.seur. And also it tells us where Don Luis got his list from.”

Perenna listened with surprise: he had utterly forgotten this particular; and Gaston Sauverand had made no reference to it in his narrative. And yet it was a strange and serious detail. From whom had Florence received that list of dates?

”And what's on the other two sheets?” asked M. Desmalions.