letter. And now, with regard to to-morrow. What do you propose?’
‘First, monsieur, we thought of going to the Gare St. Lazare to see if the superintendent has any further information for us. I thought we should then try and trace back the cask that went via Rouen.’
‘Very good. I think I shall try another scent also, though not a very promising one. I shall put on a couple of men to go round the fashionable photographers with that photo of yours, and try if they can find a portrait of the woman. I had rather you could have done it’—he looked at Burnley—‘because you have seen the body, but they may get something. That’s all, then, is it not? Good-night.’
‘Hard lines being done out of our evening,’ said Lefarge, when they had left the great man’s room. ‘I was going to propose the Folies Bergères. It’s not too late yet, though. What do you say?’
‘I’m on,’ answered Burnley, ‘but I don’t want to stay more than an hour or so. I can always work better on plenty of sleep.’
‘Right,’ returned Lefarge, and, calling a taxi, the two friends were driven to the famous music-hall.
Lefarge called for Burnley the next morning at the latter’s hotel, and they made their way to the superintendent’s office at the Gare St. Lazare.
‘Well, gentlemen,’ said their friend of the previous afternoon, motioning them to be seated, ‘I think I’ve got the information you want.’ He took up some papers. ‘I have here the receipt of the Southampton boat people for what we may call number one cask, which was handed them on the arrival of the 7.47 from this station on the night of the 30th ult. Here,’ he took up a similar paper, ‘I have the receipt of the I. and C. Steam Navigation Co. at Rouen for cask number two, which left here by goods train on the 1st inst., and was got on board on the 3rd. Finally, our agent at the Goods Station at the rue Cardinet informs me he has found the porters who assisted to unload this number two cask when it arrived. You can see them by going down there now.’
‘I can hardly find words to thank you, sir,’ said Lefarge, ‘your help has been of the utmost value.’
‘Delighted, I am sure.’
They parted with mutual compliments, and the detectives took a Ceinture train to Batignoles, and walked down the rue Cardinet to the vast goods station.
They introduced themselves to the agent, who was expecting them, and brought them through long passages and across wide yards alive with traffic to a dock in the side of one of the huge goods sheds for outward bound traffic. Calling up two blue-bloused porters and instructing them to answer the detectives’ questions, he excused himself and took his leave.
‘Now, men,’ said Lefarge, ‘we’ll be much obliged for some information and there’ll be a few francs going if you can give it.’
The men expressed anxiety to supply whatever was needed.
‘Do you remember on Thursday week, the 1st instant, unloading a cask labelled for Felix, London, via Rouen and long sea?’
‘But yes, monsieur, we remember it,’ said the men in chorus.
‘You must unload hundreds of casks. How did you come to notice this one so specially?’
‘Ah, monsieur,’ replied one of the men, ‘had monsieur had to lift it himself he also would have noticed it. The weight was remarkable, extraordinary. The shape also was peculiar. In the middle there was no bulge.’
‘At what time did it arrive here?’
‘Just after six in the evening, monsieur, between five and ten minutes past.’
‘It is a good while since then. How do you come to remember the time so exactly?’
‘Because, monsieur,’ the man smiled, ‘we were going off duty at half-past six, and we were watching the time.’
‘Can you tell me who brought it to the yard?’
The men shrugged their shoulders.
‘Alas! monsieur, we do not know,’ the spokesman answered. ‘The carter we would recognise if we saw him again, but neither of us know where he lives nor the name of his employers.’
‘Can you describe him?’
‘But certainly, monsieur. He was a small man, thin and sickly looking, with white hair and a clean-shaven face.
‘Well, keep a good look-out, and if you see him again find out who he is and let me know. Here is my address. If you do that there will be fifty francs for you.’
Lefarge handed over a couple of five-franc pieces and the detectives left, followed by the promises and thanks of the men.
‘I suppose an advertisement for the carter is the next scheme,’ said Burnley, as they walked back in the Clichy direction.
‘We had better report to headquarters, I think,’ replied Lefarge, ‘and see what the Chief advises. If he approves, we might get our advertisement into to-night’s papers.’
Burnley agreed, and when they had had some lunch they rang up the Sûreté from the nearest call office.
‘That Lefarge?’ was the answer. ‘The Chief wants you to return immediately. He’s got some news.’
They took the Metro from Clichy to Châtelet and reached the Sûreté as the clocks were striking two. M. Chauvet was in.
‘Ah,’ he said, as they entered, ‘we’ve had a reply to the dress advertisement. Madame Clothilde’s people near the Palais Royal rang up about eleven saying they believed they had supplied the dress. We got hold of Mlle. Lecoq, who was working it, and sent her over, and she returned here about an hour ago. The dress was sold in February to Madame Annette Boirac, at the corner of Avenue de l’Alma and rue St. Jean, not far from the American Church. You’d better go round there now and make some inquiries.’
‘Yes, monsieur,’ said Lefarge, ‘but before we go there is this question of the cask,’ and he told what they had learned, and suggested the advertisement about the carter.
M. Chauvet had just begun his reply when a knock came to the door and a boy entered with a card.
‘The gentleman’s waiting to see you on urgent business monsieur,’ he said.
‘Hallo!’ said the Chief, with a gesture of surprise. ‘Listen to this.’ He read out the words, ‘“M. Raoul Boirac, rue St. Jean, 1, Avenue de l’Alma.” This will be Mme. Annette B.’s husband, I presume. These advertisements are doing well. You had better stop, both of you,’ and then to the boy, ‘Wait a moment.’
He picked up the telephone, pressing one of the buttons on the stand.
‘Send Mlle. Joubert here immediately.’
In a few moments a girl stenographer entered. M. Chauvet pointed to a corner of the room where Burnley had noticed a screen, set back as if to be out of the way.
‘I want every word of this conversation, mademoiselle,’ said the Chief. ‘Please be careful to miss none of it, and also to keep quiet.’
The
