A Royal Prisoner: Fantômas Saga. Marcel Allain

an inadmissible hypothesis, since nobody saw him and the door to the servant's staircase was locked ... this morning the King was set at liberty, and we have now to find out whether a crime was really committed or whether it was a case of suicide.... Is that it?"

      "That is it! But you're going ahead pretty fast. You don't realize, Juve, the seriousness of the supposition you formulate so freely.... You must know whether it's murder or suicide! Of course! Of course!... but you are too precise.... A King a murderer ... that isn't possible. There would be terrible diplomatic complications.... It's a case of suicide.... Susy d'Orsel committed suicide beyond a doubt."

      Juve smiled slightly.

      "That has to be proved, hasn't it?"

      "Certainly it must be proved. The accident happened at number 247 Rue de Monceau. Go there, question the concièrge ... the only witness.... In a word, bring us the proof of suicide in written form. We can then send a report to the press and stifle the threatened scandal."

      Juve rose.

      "I will begin an immediate investigation," he replied, smiling, "and M. Vicart, you may depend upon me to use all means in my power to clear up the affair ... entirely and impartially."

      When Juve had gone, M. Vicart realized a sense of extreme uneasiness.

      "Impartially!... the deuce!"

      Hurriedly he left his office and made his way through the halls to his chief, M. Annion. His first care must be to cover his own responsibility in the matter.

      M. Annion, cold and impassive, listened to his recital in silence and then broke out:

      "You have committed a blunder, M. Vicart. I told you this morning to put a detective on the case who would bring us a report along the lines that we desire. I pointed out to you the gravity of the situation."

      "But ..." protested M. Vicart.

      "Let me finish.... I thought I had made myself quite clear on that point and now, you actually give the commission to Juve!"

      "Exactly, Monsieur! I gave Juve the commission because he is our most expert detective."

      "That I don't deny, and therefore Juve is certain to discover the truth! It is an unpardonable blunder."

      At this moment a clerk entered with a telegram. M. Annion opened it quickly and read it.

      "Ah! this is enough to bring about the fall of the Ministry. Listen!"

      "The Minister of Hesse-Weimar to the Secretary of the Interior, Place Beauvau, Paris — Numerous telegrams addressed to his Majesty the King of Hesse-Weimar, at present staying incognito at the Royal Palace Hotel, Avenue des Champs Elysées, remain unanswered, in spite of their extreme urgence. The Minister of Hesse-Weimar begs the Secretary of the Interior of France to kindly make inquiries and to send him the assurance that his Majesty the King of Hesse-Weimar is in possession of these diplomatic telegrams."

      M. Annion burst out.

      "There now! Pretty soon they'll be accusing us of intercepting the telegrams ... Frederick-Christian doesn't answer! How can I help that! I suppose he's weeping over the death of his mistress. And now that fellow Juve has taken a hand in it! I tell you. Monsieur Vicart, we're in a nice fix!"

      While M. Annion was unburdening his mind to M. Vicart, Juve left the Ministry whistling a march, and hailed a cab to take him to the Rue Monceau.

      He quite understood what was required of him, but his professional pride, his independence and his innate honesty of purpose determined him to ferret out the truth regardless of consequences.

As a matter of fact, the presence of the King in Paris was, in part, to render a service to Juve himself.2

      If, therefore, the hypothesis of suicide could be verified, Juve would be able to be of use to the King; if, on the other hand, it had to be rejected, his report would prove that fact.

      On arriving at the Rue de Monceau, Juve went straight to the concièrge's office and having shown his badge, began to question her:

      "Tell me, Madame Ceiron, did you see the King when he came to pay his visit to his mistress?"

      "No, Monsieur. I saw nothing at all. I was in bed ... the bell rang, I opened the door ... the King called out as usual, 'the Duke of Haworth' — it's the name he goes by — and then he went upstairs, but I didn't see him."

      "Was he alone?"

      "Ah, that's what everyone asks me! Of course he was alone ... the proof being that when they went up and found poor Mlle. Susy, nobody else was there, so ..."

      Juve interrupted:

      "All right. Now, tell me, did Mlle. Susy d'Orsel expect any other visitor? Any friend?"

      "Nobody that I knew of ... at least that's what she said to her lace-maker — one of my tenants ... a very good young girl, Mlle. Marie Pascal — She said like this — 'I'm expecting my lover,' but she mentioned nobody else."

      "And this Marie Pascal is the last person who saw Susy d'Orsel alive, excepting, of course, the King? The servants had gone to bed?"

      "Oh, Monsieur, the maid wasn't there. Justine came down about eleven, she said good-night to me as she went by ... while Marie Pascal didn't go up before eleven-thirty or a quarter to twelve."

      "Very well, I'll see Mlle. Pascal later. Another question, Mme. Ceiron: did any of your tenants leave the house after the crime ... I mean after the death?"

      "No, Monsieur."

      "Mlle. Susy d'Orsel's apartment is reached by two staircases. Do you know if the door to the one used by the servants was locked?"

      "That I can't tell you, Monsieur, all I know is that Justine generally locked it when she went out."

      "And while you were away hunting the doctor and the police, did you leave the door of the house open?"

      "Ah, no, Monsieur, to begin with, I didn't go out. I have a telephone in my room, besides I never leave the door open."

      "Is Justine in her room now?"

      "No, I have the key, which means that she's out ... she's probably looking after funeral arrangements of the poor young girl."

      "Mlle. d'Orsel had no relations?"

      "I don't think so, Monsieur."

      "Is Marie Pascal in?"

      "Yes ... sixth floor to the right at the end of the hall."

      "Then I will go up and see her. Thanks very much for your information, Madame."

      "You're very welcome, Monsieur. Ah, this wretched business isn't going to help the house. I still have two apartments unrented."

      Juve did not wait to hear the good woman's lamentations but hurriedly climbed the flights of stairs and knocked on the door indicated.

      It was opened by a young girl.

      "Mademoiselle Marie Pascal?"

      "Yes, Monsieur."

      "Can I see you for a couple of minutes? I am a detective and have charge of investigating the death of Mlle. d'Orsel."

      Mlle. Pascal led the way into her modest room, which was bright and sunny with a flowered paper on the walls, potted plants and a bird-cage. She then began a recital of the interview she had had with Susy. This threw no fresh light upon the case and at the end, Juve replied:

      "To sum it up, Mademoiselle, you know only one thing, that Mlle. d'Orsel was waiting for her lover, that she told you she was not very happy, but did not appear especially sad or cast down ... in fact, neither her words nor her attitude showed any thought of attempted suicide. Am I not right?"

      Marie Pascal hesitated; she seemed worried over something; at length she spoke up:

      "I do know more."

      "What?"