The Eight Strokes of the Clock. Leblanc Maurice

word more! Whatever I may say, don't contradict me. Nor you, M. Dutreuil."

      He opened the door. A thin man, with a red imperial, entered:

      "Prince Rénine?"

      "Yes, sir. You, of course, are from M. Dudouis?"

      "Yes."

      And the newcomer gave his name: "Chief-inspector Morisseau."

      "I am obliged to you for coming so promptly, Mr. Chief-inspector," said Prince Rénine, "and I hope that M. Dudouis will not regret having placed you at my disposal."

      "At your entire disposal, in addition to two inspectors whom I have left in the square outside and who have been in the case, with me, from the first."

      "I shall not detain you for any length of time," said Rénine, "and I will not even ask you to sit down. We have only a few minutes in which to settle everything. You know what it's all about?"

      "The sixty thousand-franc notes stolen from M. Guillaume. I have the numbers here."

      Rénine ran his eyes down the slip of paper which the chief-inspector handed him and said:

      "That's right. The two lists agree."

      Inspector Morisseau seemed greatly excited:

      "The chief attaches the greatest importance to your discovery. So you will be able to show me?…"

      Rénine was silent for a moment and then declared:

      "Mr. Chief-inspector, a personal investigation–and a most exhaustive investigation it was, as I will explain to you presently–has revealed the fact that, on his return from Suresnes, the murderer, after replacing the motor-cycle in the shed in the Avenue du Roule, ran to the Ternes and entered this house."

      "This house?"

      "Yes."

      "But what did he come here for?"

      "To hide the proceeds of his theft, the sixty bank-notes."

      "How do you mean? Where?"

      "In a flat of which he had the key, on the fifth floor."

      Gaston Dutreuil exclaimed, in amazement:

      "But there's only one flat on the fifth floor and that's the one I live in!"

      "Exactly; and, as you were at the cinema with Madame Aubrieux and her mother, advantage was taken of your absence...."

      "Impossible! No one has the key except myself."

      "One can get in without a key."

      "But I have seen no marks of any kind."

      Morisseau intervened:

      "Come, let us understand one another. You say the bank-notes were hidden in M. Dutreuil's flat?"

      "Yes."

      "Then, as Jacques Aubrieux was arrested the next morning, the notes ought to be there still?"

      "That's my opinion."

      Gaston Dutreuil could not help laughing:

      "But that's absurd! I should have found them!"

      "Did you look for them?"

      "No. But I should have come across them at any moment. The place isn't big enough to swing a cat in. Would you care to see it?"

      "However small it may be, it's large enough to hold sixty bits of paper."

      "Of course, everything is possible," said Dutreuil. "Still, I must repeat that nobody, to my knowledge, has been to my rooms; that there is only one key; that I am my own housekeeper; and that I can't quite understand...."

      Hortense too could not understand. With her eyes fixed on Prince Rénine's, she was trying to read his innermost thoughts. What game was he playing? Was it her duty to support his statements? She ended by saying:

      "Mr. Chief-inspector, since Prince Rénine maintains that the notes have been put away upstairs, wouldn't the simplest thing be to go and look? M. Dutreuil will take us up, won't you?"

      "This minute," said the young man. "As you say, that will be simplest."

      They all four climbed the five storys of the house and, after Dutreuil had opened the door, entered a tiny set of chambers consisting of a sitting-room, bedroom, kitchen and bathroom, all arranged with fastidious neatness. It was easy to see that every chair in the sitting-room occupied a definite place. The pipes had a rack to themselves; so had the matches. Three walking-sticks, arranged according to their length, hung from three nails. On a little table before the window a hat-box, filled with tissue-paper, awaited the felt hat which Dutreuil carefully placed in it. He laid his gloves beside it, on the lid.

      He did all this with sedate and mechanical movements, like a man who loves to see things in the places which he has chosen for them. Indeed, no sooner did Rénine shift something than Dutreuil made a slight gesture of protest, took out his hat again, stuck it on his head, opened the window and rested his elbows on the sill, with his back turned to the room, as though he were unable to bear the sight of such vandalism.

      "You're positive, are you not?" the inspector asked Rénine.

      "Yes, yes, I'm positive that the sixty notes were brought here after the murder."

      "Let's look for them."

      This was easy and soon done. In half an hour, not a corner remained unexplored, not a knick-knack unlifted.

      "Nothing," said Inspector Morisseau. "Shall we continue?"

      "No," replied Rénine, "The notes are no longer here."

      "What do you mean?"

      "I mean that they have been removed."

      "By whom? Can't you make a more definite accusation?"

      Rénine did not reply. But Gaston Dutreuil wheeled round. He was choking and spluttered: "Mr. Inspector, would you like me to make the accusation more definite, as conveyed by this gentleman's remarks? It all means that there's a dishonest man here, that the notes hidden by the murderer were discovered and stolen by that dishonest man and deposited in another and safer place. That is your idea, sir, is it not? And you accuse me of committing this theft don't you?"

      He came forward, drumming his chest with his fists: "Me! Me! I found the notes, did I, and kept them for myself? You dare to suggest that!"

      Rénine still made no reply. Dutreuil flew into a rage and, taking Inspector Morisseau aside, exclaimed:

      "Mr. Inspector, I strongly protest against all this farce and against the part which you are unconsciously playing in it. Before your arrival, Prince Rénine told this lady and myself that he knew nothing, that he was venturing into this affair at random and that he was following the first road that offered, trusting to luck. Do you deny it, sir?"

      Rénine did not open his lips.

      "Answer me, will you? Explain yourself; for, really, you are putting forward the most improbable facts without any proof whatever. It's easy enough to say that I stole the notes. And how were you to know that they were here at all? Who brought them here? Why should the murderer choose this flat to hide them in? It's all so stupid, so illogical and absurd!… Give us your proofs, sir … one single proof!"

      Inspector Morisseau seemed perplexed. He questioned Rénine with a glance. Rénine said:

      "Since you want specific details, we will get them from Madame Aubrieux herself. She's on the telephone. Let's go downstairs. We shall know all about it in a minute."

      Dutreuil shrugged his shoulders:

      "As you please; but what a waste of time!"

      He seemed greatly irritated. His long wait at the window, under a blazing sun, had thrown him into a sweat. He went to his bedroom and returned with a bottle of water, of which he took a few sips, afterwards placing the bottle on the window-sill:

      "Come along," he said.

      Prince Rénine chuckled.

      "You seem to be in a hurry to leave the place."

      "I'm in a hurry to show you up," retorted Dutreuil, slamming