Part 17 (1/2)
Am I right?”
”Yes,” nodded Gritz.
”The door that leads to Number Seven?”
”Yes.”
”Open it,” and, while the agitated proprietor searched for his pa.s.s key, the detective spoke to Tignol: ”I want impressions of these footprints, the _best_ you can take. Use glycerin with plaster of Paris for the molds. Take _this_ one and these two and _this_ and _this_. Understand?”
”Perfectly.”
”Leave Caesar here while you go for what you need. Down, Caesar! _Garde!_”
The dog growled and went on guard forthwith.
”Now, we'll have a look inside.”
The alleyway door stood open and, using his lantern with the utmost care, Coquenil went first, mounting the stairs slowly, followed by Gritz. At the top they came to a narrow landing and a closed door.
”This opens directly into Number Seven?” asked the detective.
”Yes.”
”Is it usually locked or unlocked?”
”IT is _always_ locked.”
”Well, it's unlocked now,” observed Coquenil, trying the k.n.o.b. Then, flas.h.i.+ng his lantern forward, he threw the door wide open. The room was empty.
”Let me turn up the electrics,” said the proprietor, and he did so, showing furnis.h.i.+ngs like those in Number Six except that here the prevailing tint was pale blue while there it was pale yellow.
”I see nothing wrong,” remarked M. Paul, glancing about sharply. ”Do you?”
”Nothing.”
”Except that this door into the corridor is bolted. It didn't bolt itself, did it?”
”No,” sighed the other.
Coquenil thought a moment, then he produced the pistol found in the courtyard and examined it with extreme care, then he unlocked the corridor door and looked out. The policeman was still on guard before Number Six.
”I shall want to go in there shortly,” said the detective. The policeman saluted wearily.
”Excuse me,” ventured M. Gritz, ”have you still much to do?”
”Yes,” said the other dryly.
”It's nearly four and--I suppose you are used to this sort of thing, but I'm knocked out, I--I'd like to go to bed.”