Part 9 (1/2)
”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 Renine. 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 inspector to the Bra.s.serie Lutetia, Place des Ternes. I shall be there with a lady and M. Dutreuil, Aubrieux's friend. Good day, Mr.
Secretary.”
When Renine 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?”
”Well, I'm acting as though I knew. It's not a bad method. Let's have some lunch, shall we?”
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 gentry 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 prospect of securing the sixty bank-notes is a windfall worth taking a little trouble over. Just think: that was the weak point in the indictment, 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 manifestations 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?”
Renine 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 scattered facts. But I have only two hours; and I am embarking 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 Renine?”
”Yes, sir. You, of course, are from M. Dudouis?”
”Yes.”
And the newcomer gave his name: