True Crime & Murder Mysteries Collection. Moffett Cleveland

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СКАЧАТЬ judge, feeling the man's power, waited his further words with growing interest; but Gibelin blinked his small eyes and muttered under his breath: "The cheek of the fellow!"

      "As you know," explained Coquenil briefly, "I resigned from the force two years ago. I need not go into details; the point is, I now ask to be taken back. That is why I am here."

      "But, my dear fellow," replied the chief in frank astonishment, "I understood that you had received a magnificent offer with——"

      "Yes, yes, I have."

      "With a salary of a hundred thousand francs?"

      "It's true, but—I have refused it."

      Simon and Hauteville looked at Coquenil incredulously. How could a man refuse a salary of a hundred thousand francs? The commissary watched his friend with admiration, Gibelin with envious hostility.

      "May I ask why you have refused it?" asked the chief.

      "Partly for personal reasons, largely because I want to have a hand in this case."

      Gibelin moved uneasily.

      "You think this case so interesting?" put in the judge.

      "The most interesting I have ever known," answered the other, and then he added with all the authority of his fine, grave face: "It's more than interesting, it's the most important criminal case Paris has known for three generations."

      Again they stared at him.

      "My dear Coquenil, you exaggerate," objected M. Simon. "After all, we have only the shooting of a billiard player."

      M. Paul shook his head and replied impressively: "The billiard player was a pawn in the game. He became troublesome and was sacrificed. He is of no importance, but there's a greater game than billiards here with a master player and—I'm going to be in it."

      "Why do you think it's a great game?" questioned the judge.

      "Why do I think anything? Why did I think a commonplace pickpocket at the Bon Marché was a notorious criminal, wanted by two countries? Why did I think we should find the real clew to that Bordeaux counterfeiting gang in a Passy wine shop? Why did I think it necessary to-night to be on the cab this young American took and not behind it in another cab?" He shot a quick glance at Gibelin. "Because a good detective knows certain things before he can prove them and acts on his knowledge. That is what distinguishes him from an ordinary detective."

      "Meaning me?" challenged Gibelin.

      "Not at all," replied M. Paul smoothly. "I only say that——"

      "One moment," interrupted M. Simon. "Do I understand that you were with the driver who took this American away from here to-night?"

      Coquenil smiled. "I was not with the driver, I was the driver and I had the honor of receiving five francs from my distinguished associate." He bowed mockingly to Gibelin and held up a silver piece. "I shall keep this among my curiosities."

      "It was a foolish trick, a perfectly useless trick," declared Gibelin, furious.

      "Perhaps not," answered the other with aggravating politeness; "perhaps it was a rather nice coup leading to very important results."

      "Huh! What results?"

      "Yes. What results?" echoed the judge.

      "Let me ask first," replied Coquenil deliberately, "what you regard as the most important thing to be known in this case just now?"

      "The name of the woman," answered Hauteville promptly.

      "Parbleu!" agreed the commissary.

      "Then the man who gives you this woman's name and address will render a real service?"

      "A service?" exclaimed Hauteville. "The whole case rests on this woman. Without her, nothing can be understood."

      "So it would be a good piece of work," continued Coquenil, "if a man had discovered this name and address in the last few hours with nothing but his wits to help him; in fact, with everything done to hinder him." He looked meaningly at Gibelin.

      "Come, come," interrupted the chief, "what are you driving at?"

      "At this, I have the woman's name and address."

      "Impossible!" they cried.

      "I got them by my own efforts and I will give them up on my own terms." He spoke with a look of fearless purpose that M. Simon well remembered from the old days.

      "A thousand devils! How did you do it?" cried Simon.

      "I watched the American in the cab as he leaned forward toward the lantern light and I saw exactly what he was doing. He opened the lady's bag and cut out a leather flap that had her name and address stamped on it."

      "No," contradicted Gibelin, "there was no name in the bag. I examined it myself."

      "The name was on the under side of the flap," laughed the other, "in gilt letters."

      Gibelin's heart sank.

      "And you took this flap from the American?" asked M. Simon.

      "No, no! Any violence would have brought my colleague into the thing, for he was close behind, and I wanted this knowledge for myself."

      "What did you do?" pursued the chief.

      "I let the young man cut the flap into small pieces and drop them one by one as we drove through dark little streets. And I noted where he dropped the pieces. Then I drove back and picked them up, that is, all but two."

      "Marvelous!" muttered Hauteville.

      "I had a small searchlight lantern to help me. That was one of the things I took from my desk," he added to Pougeot.

      "And these pieces of leather with the name and address, you have them?" continued the chief.

      "I have them."

      "With you?"

      "Yes."

      "May I see them?"

      "Certainly. If you will promise to respect them as my personal property?"

      Simon hesitated. "You mean—" he frowned, and then impatiently: "Oh, yes, I promise that."

      Coquenil drew an envelope from his breast pocket and from it he took a number of white-leather fragments. And he showed the chief that most of these fragments were stamped in gold letters or parts of letters.

      "I'm satisfied," declared Simon after examining several of the fragments and returning them. "Bon Dieu!" he stormed at Gibelin. "And you had that bag in your hands!"

      Gibelin sat silent. This was the wretchedest moment in his career.

      "Well," continued the chief, "we must have these pieces of leather. What are your terms?"

      "I СКАЧАТЬ