Part 26 (1/2)
”I know,” said he, ”that your time is precious, Monsieur Barbey, so I will come straight to the object of my call.... You must be aware of the profound impression caused by the double crimes recently committed on the persons of Madame de Vibray and the Princess Sonia Danidoff?”
”It is true, monsieur, that I have followed, in the papers, the account of the investigations regarding them: but, in what way?...”
”Does it concern you?” finished Fandor. ”Good heavens, monsieur, is it not a fact that the Baroness de Vibray was your client? And were you not present at Monsieur Thomery's ball?”
”That is so, monsieur; but if you are hoping that I can supply you with further details than those already published, you will be disappointed.
I myself have learned a good deal about these crimes only from reading your articles, monsieur.”
”Can you confirm the statement that Madame de Vibray was ruined?”
”I do not think I am betraying a professional secret if I say that Madame de Vibray had had very heavy losses quite recently.”
”And Princess Sonia Danidoff?”
”I do not think she is one of our clients.”
”You do not think so?”
”But, monsieur, you cannot suppose that we know all our clients? Our business is a very extensive one, and neither Nanteuil, nor I, could possibly know the names of all those who do business with us.”
”You know the name of Jacques Dollon?”
”Yes. I knew young Dollon. He was introduced to me by Madame de Vibray, who asked me to give him a helping hand, and I willingly did so. I can only regret now that my confidence was so ill placed.”
”Do you believe him guilty then?... Not really?”
”I certainly do!... So do all your readers, monsieur. Is that not so?”
But, whilst Monsieur Barbey was regarding Fandor with some astonishment because of his half-avowal, that he himself was not sure of Dollon's guilt, the door was flung open with violence, and Monsieur Nanteuil, out of breath, looking thoroughly upset, rushed into the room, followed by five or six men unknown to Jerome Fandor, and showing traces of fatigue and emotion also.
”Good Heavens! What is it?” cried Monsieur Barbey, rising to meet his partner....
”The matter is,” cried Monsieur Nanteuil, ”that an abominable robbery has just been committed....”
”Where?”
”Rue du Quatre Septembre!...” Still panting, he began to give details....
Fandor did not wait to hear more. He rushed from the Barbey-Nanteuil bank and made for the place de l'Opera at top speed.
In consequence of the extraordinary occurrence which Monsieur Nanteuil had hastened to report to his partner, a considerable crowd had flocked to the scene of the accident; but barriers had been quickly erected, and the crowd, directed by the police, were able to circulate in orderly fas.h.i.+on when Fandor arrived on the scene.
The agile young journalist had made his way to the front row of the curious, and was bent on entering the stone and wood yards of the works forbidden to the public; the usual palisade no longer existed owing to the landslip.
Just as he was searching in his pocket for the precious identification card, which the police grant to the reporters connected with the big newspapers, Fandor was jostled by an individual coming out of the yards.
It was a navvy all covered with mortar, white dust, and mud; he was without a hat and held his right hand pressed against his cheek; between his fingers there filtered a few drops of blood.
The glances of the man and the journalist met, and Fandor felt as though someone had struck him a blow on the heart! The navvy had given him so strange a look. Fandor thought he had read in his eyes a threat and an invitation.