London Murder Mysteries - Boxed Set. Freeman Wills Crofts

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СКАЧАТЬ on his expressive face deepened.

      ‘Extraordinary!’ he cried, ‘but here is a mystery! I never wrote, or sent, or had any knowledge of such a letter. It’s not only a forgery, but it’s a pure invention. There’s not a word of truth in that story of the bet and the cask from beginning to end. Tell me something more about it. Where did you get it?’

      ‘From M. Felix himself. He gave it to Mr. Burnley here, saying it was from you.’

      ‘But, good heavens!’ the young man sprang to his feet and began pacing up and down the room, ‘I can’t understand that. Felix is a decent fellow, and he wouldn’t say it was from me if he didn’t believe it. But how could he believe it? The thing is absurd.’ He paused and then continued. ‘You say, monsieur, that Felix said this note was from me. But what made him think so? There’s not a scrap of writing about it. It isn’t even signed. He must have known any one could write a letter and type my name below it. And then, how could he suppose that I should write such a tissue of falsehoods.’

      ‘But that is just the difficulty,’ returned Lefarge. ‘It’s not so false as you seem to imagine. The description of the conversation about the lottery and your arrangement with Felix to purchase bonds is, by your own admission, true.’

      ‘Yes, that part is, but the rest, all that about a bet and a cask, is wholly false.’

      ‘But there I fear you are mistaken also, monsieur. The part about the cask is apparently true. At least the cask arrived, addressed as described, and on the day mentioned.’

      Again the young merchant gave an exclamation of astonishment.

      ‘The cask arrived?’ he cried. ‘Then there really was a cask?’ He paused again. ‘Well, I cannot understand it, but I can only repeat that I never wrote that letter, nor have I the slightest idea of what it is all about.’

      ‘It is, of course, obvious, monsieur, as you point out, that any one could have typed a letter ending with your name. But you will admit it is equally obvious that only a person who knew of your entering the lottery could have written it. You tell us you are not that person, and we fully accept your statement. Who else then, M. Le Gautier, had this information?’

      ‘As far as that goes, any one who was present at the discussion at the Toisson d’Or.’

      ‘Quite so. Hence you will see the importance of my questions as to who these were.’

      M. Le Gautier paced slowly up and down the room, evidently thinking deeply.

      ‘I don’t know that I do,’ he said at last. ‘Suppose everything in that letter was true. Suppose, for argument’s sake, I had written it. What then? What business of the police is it? I can’t see that the law has been broken.’

      Lefarge smiled.

      ‘That ought to be clear enough, anyway. Look at the facts. A cask arrives in London by the I. and C. boat from Rouen, labelled to a man named Felix at the certain address. Inquiries show that no one of that name lives at that address. Further, the cask is labelled “Statuary,” but examination shows that it does not contain statuary, but money, sovereigns. Then a man representing himself as Felix appears, states he lives at the false address, which is untrue, says he is expecting by that boat a cask of statuary, which is also untrue, and claims the one in question. The steamer people, being naturally suspicious, will not give it up, but by a trick Felix gets hold of it, and takes it to quite another address. When questioned by the police he produces this letter to account for his actions. I do not think it surprising that we are anxious to learn who wrote the letter, and if its contents are true.’

      ‘No, no, of course it is reasonable. I did not understand the sequence of events. All the same, it is the most extraordinary business I ever heard of.’

      ‘It is strange, certainly. Tell me, M. Le Gautier, have you ever had any disagreement with Mr. Felix? Can you imagine him having, or thinking he had, any cause of offence against you?’

      ‘Nothing of the kind.’

      ‘You never gave him cause, however innocently, to feel jealousy?’

      ‘Never. But why do you ask?’

      ‘I was wondering whether he might not have played a trick on you, and have written the letter himself.’

      ‘No, no. I’m sure it’s not that. Felix is a very straight, decent fellow. He would not do a thing like that.’

      ‘Well, can you think of any one who might be glad to give you annoyance? What about the men who were present when you discussed the lottery? Or any one else at all?’

      ‘I cannot think of a single person.’

      ‘Did you tell any one about this matter of the lottery?’

      ‘No. I never mentioned it.’

      ‘One other question, monsieur, and I have done. Did you at any time borrow £50 or the equivalent of French money from M. Felix.’

      ‘I never borrowed from him at all.’

      ‘Or do you know any one who borrowed such a sum from him?’

      ‘No one, monsieur.’

      ‘Then, monsieur, allow me to express my regret for the annoyance given, and my thanks for your courteous replies to my questions.’ He flashed a glance at Burnley. ‘If we might still further inflict ourselves on you, I should like, with your permission, to ask M. Dumarchez to join us here so that we may talk the matter over together.’

      ‘An excellent idea, monsieur. Do so by all means.’

      One of the eventualities the colleagues had discussed before starting their morning’s work was the possible denial by M. Le Gautier of any bet with M. Dumarchez. They had decided that in such a case the latter must be interrogated before a communication could reach him from Le Gautier. It was with this in view that Lefarge left his friend with the wine-merchant, while going himself to interview his neighbour.

      As the detective reached the door of the stockbroker’s office in the Boulevard Poissonière it opened and a middle-aged gentleman with a long, fair beard emerged.

      ‘Pardon, but are you M. Dumarchez?’ asked Lefarge.

      ‘My name, monsieur. Did you wish to see me?’

      The detective introduced himself, and briefly stated his business.

      ‘Come in, monsieur,’ said the other. ‘I have an appointment in another part of Paris shortly, but I can give you ten minutes.’ He led the way into his private room and waved his visitor to a chair.

      ‘It is the matter of the bet, monsieur,’ began Lefarge. ‘The test has failed, and the police have therefore to satisfy themselves that the cask was really sent with the object stated.’

      M. Dumarchez stared.

      ‘I do not understand,’ he replied. ‘To what bet are you referring?’

      ‘To the bet between you and M. Le Gautier. You see, M. Felix’s dealings with the cask are the result of the bet, and it must be obvious to you that confirmation of his statement is required.’

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