30 Suspense and Thriller Masterpieces. Гилберт Кит Честертон

on purpose to create a false scent."

      Without further words, Juve and the young girl drove to Rue de Monceau to examine the chemise which she had found that morning. Marie Pascal unlocked her door; a few moments later started in amazement. The chemise had disappeared. Afterward Juve began to wonder whether Marie Pascal had spoken the truth or whether it was a put-up story between herself and the King.

      "There's no use looking any further," he cried, "some one has stolen it."

      "But it's terrible," replied Marie Pascal. "It is the only evidence that would clear the King. The only proof that he is not guilty. How can anyone be sure that I really found the chemise?"

      Juve nodded. "That's what I have been asking myself, Mademoiselle."

      "Oh, what can be done?"

      The anxiety of the young girl interested Juve keenly.

      "It's very annoying, Mademoiselle. But, after all, it only affects you indirectly. The King will have to explain clearly whether he was alone with Susy d'Orsel or whether a woman accompanied him."

      "Yes, but then they will suspect him… . Oh, M. Juve, what do you think?"

      Juve gave a dry cough and answered:

      "Well, Mademoiselle, this is the way I figure it out. Susy d'Orsel has been the mistress of the King for about two years, and as you know constancy is unusual with men, it is quite possible that Frederick-Christian had had enough of his mistress and had become interested in another woman."

      "That doesn't explain anything."

      "Oh, yes, it does. It explains everything. Suppose, for instance, that the King had fallen in love with another demi-mondaine, and that had brought her to the apartment to notify Susy d'Orsel of his intention to break with her. Might not a quarrel have arisen between the two women and the new mistress, exasperated by some taunt, had thrown the unfortunate Susy d'Orsel out of the window?… That would be a commonplace enough story."

      While speaking Juve was watching carefully the expression on Marie Pascal's face. She had grown very pale and at the end protested with a cry:

      "No, no, you are wrong. The King had not two mistresses. And besides, the chemise I found was made of coarse linen, and would not certainly be worn by that sort of woman."

      "Ah," thought Juve, "I wonder if Marie Pascal by any chance is in love with his Majesty. That would explain many things. To begin with, the reason why she was watching Susy's window. Also why the King, touched perhaps by the caprice of this girl, had had a row with his mistress, and finally why Marie Pascal, having seen him again, had invented the story of the chemise, which could not be found. This young girl is imprudent. She lets it be seen too clearly how disagreeable the hypothesis would be to her. After reasoning thus to himself Juve turned to the young girl.

      "Well, Mademoiselle Marie, if my supposition is wrong there can be only one explanation, namely, that some woman committed the crime, a woman who was hidden in the apartment and who subsequently hid the chemise in the Marquis de Sérac's laundry bag, and then having learned of your discovery returned to your room to recover the compromising article." Marie Pascal remained silent. Juve continued with the intention of alarming her out of her reserve.

      "But if this last supposition is the right one we must admit that it is none the less unfortunate for the King. For once the chemise disappeared the King must be held guilty until further discovery."

      Marie Pascal replied simply:

      "It is frightful. The more so because I had this proof in my hand, and I know very well he is innocent."

      Juve picked up his hat and began buttoning his overcoat.

      "Naturally, Mademoiselle, you yourself know … and I may add that I am of your opinion, but still you have no proof to offer, and consequently… ."

      Marie Pascal wrung her hands in desperation.

      "What is to be done? How can the truth come to light… . Ah, I shall never forgive myself for having at first accused the King and then losing the proof of his innocence."

      "Oh, don't take it to heart too much. In criminal affairs the first results of the investigator are really conclusive."

      Juve nodded to the young girl and rapidly went downstairs smiling to himself. One thing and one alone had developed from his interview. The King denied his guilt.

      "The only thing I know," he thought, "is that the concièrge affirms that Frederick-Christian was alone when he came to see Susy d'Orsel… . If I can prove that definitely I can also prove by the chain of evidence that the King is guilty. But how to do it?"

      Juve hurried through the courtyard, passing the office of Mme. Ceiron, who was out at that moment. As he had already obtained the key of Susy d'Orsel's apartment, her absence did not trouble him.

      "I'll be willing to bet," he thought, "that I shall find nothing interesting in her rooms. But it is at least my duty to go over them carefully… . If only I could discover evidence showing that three persons were there together, but that is most unlikely. The officers, the doctors, the concièrge and the men who carried the body to the Morgue would have destroyed all traces."

      It was not without a slight shudder that Juve entered the apartment where the tragedy occurred. With a real catch at his heart he went through the bright, luxuriously decorated rooms, still giving evidence of a feminine presence.

      Death had entered there. The sinister death of crime, brutal, unforeseen. A hundred times more tragic for remaining unexplained. Juve, however, quickly stifled his feelings. He was there to investigate and nothing else mattered. The bedroom presented nothing worthy of notice, the boudoir was in perfect order, also the kitchen and the hall.

      Juve entered, finally, the dining-room. It was there, according to the testimony of witnesses, that the crime must have taken place. It was there in any case that Susy d'Orsel had received her lover.

      Nothing had been deranged. The table was still set for supper. Two places, side by side, bore mute witness that the King had been alone with his mistress.

      Juve at first carefully examined the general lay of the room. The disposition of the chairs, the two knives from the two forks, two fish plates, all went to prove there had been only two persons at the table.

      But suddenly he gave a start and his face expressed the keenest interest. He dropped to his knees and carefully examined the floor under the table.

      "Unless I am dreaming there are ashes here."

      Juve bent forward and noticed at the right of the sofa an ash receiver placed near the edge of the table, and below on the carpet a small heap of gray ash.

      "To begin with, we'll admit that Susy d'Orsel flicked the ash off her cigarette … gray ash from Egyptian tobacco, a woman's cigarette."

      He now moved to the left of the sofa.

      "In the second place, here is another heap of ashes in this plate … cigar ashes … in fact here is the tend showing a German brand… . So the King was sitting on the right of Susy d'Orsel. Less careful, he used his plate instead of an ash receiver."

      Now bending down he noticed on the carpet a third heap of ash.

      "A third person has been smoking here. For there is no reason why the King should have changed his place and sat at the opposite side of the table where no place is laid… . Also this third person, in smoking a cigarette, and having no plate or ash receiver, dropped his ashes on the carpet."

      After a moment's thought Juve took from his pocket a small automatic lighting arrangement and going on his hands and knees under the table began a careful examination of its feet. In a moment he gave an exclamation of joy.

      "Ah, I have got it now. This is conclusive."

      And in fact Juve had made a most important discovery. The heavy legs of the table were joined by crosspieces and Juve had been able to determine where Susy d'Orsel had rested her feet. He saw also the slight traces of mud where the King had rested his feet. Most