Part 11 (1/2)
”Ah, I do not doubt, Juve, but that they tidy up your study every morning; but, here are twenty-five cigarette ends, lying side by side: you certainly have not smoked all those in one morning, consequently you have lighted them during the night, and consequently you have not gone to bed.”
Juve's tone was bantering.
”Continue, little one, you interest me.”
”And, to cap it all, the ends of your cigarettes have been chewed, bitten, mangled,--an indisputable sign of high nervous tension--therefore.”...
”Therefore, Fandor?”
”Therefore, Juve, I ask what is wrong with you--that's all!”
The detective fixed the journalist with a piercing look, trying to guess what he was aiming at. But Fandor was too good a pupil of Juve to let him have the slightest inkling of his feelings. There was an enigmatic smile on his lips whilst he awaited Juve's reply.
The detective quickly decided to speak out.
”I am looking into a very serious affair which interests me greatly.”
”Grave?”
”Possibly.”
This did not satisfy Fandor. He seated himself on the corner of the writing-table and considered his friend.
”See now, Juve, answer me if you can see your way to it.... Your att.i.tude makes me sure that important things are in the air: you are in a very emotional condition, and that for some reason I have not fathomed. Can I be useful to you? Will you not let me share this secret?”
”Will you tell me yours?”
”In three minutes.”
Juve sat for a few minutes deep in thought. Then in a changed voice, a solemn voice with a sharp note in it, he said:
”You know about Captain Brocq's sudden death, of course?... Let me tell you that I have discovered it was an a.s.sa.s.sination. It's this affair I am giving all my attention to.”
When there was mention of the Brocq affair, Fandor started. Here was a strange coincidence. Since last night had not his own mind been distressed by the mysteries he divined in this strange death? And now here was Juve also upset by his examination of this same affair.
Fandor drew up a chair, placed himself astride it, facing Juve, putting his elbows on the back and holding his head between his hands.
”You are looking into this Brocq affair, Juve?... Very well! So am I!... You have read my articles?”
”They are very interesting.”
”They lack conclusiveness, however!... But, as things are, I could not do better, not having any precise information and facts to go upon.
Are you quite certain about the facts yourself? Do you know who has struck the blow?”
”Don't you suspect, Fandor?”
Juve did not give him time to reply. He half rose from his seat, and, bending close to Fandor, looked him straight in the eyes.
”Tell me, my boy! Suppose that after six months of truce, six months of tranquillity, your whole existence is again violently upset? If you understood that the efforts and dangers and struggles and tenacity of six long years were entirely wasted, and that the results you thought you had achieved did not exist--that you had to begin all over again--that once more you had to play a match with not only your life for stakes, but your honour as well--tell me, Fandor, would you not be stirred to your depths?”