continue.’
‘I suggest then, that he got the cask on arrival in London, brought it to St. Malo, unpacked and probably destroyed the statue, packed the body, took the cask to Charing Cross and sent it to Paris, travelling over in the same train himself. In Paris he got a cart, and took it from the Gare du Nord to the rue Cardinet goods station, travelled back to London, and met the cask at St. Katherine’s Docks on the following Monday.’
‘But what was the object of all these journeys? If his purpose was to get rid of the body, why would he first get rid of it, and then arrange an elaborate scheme to bring it back again?’
‘I saw that difficulty, monsieur,’ admitted Lefarge, ‘and I cannot explain it, though I would suggest it was for the same purpose as the false address—in some way to divert suspicion. But more than that, monsieur. We have evidence that the black-bearded man who met the cask on its various journeys was like Felix. But we have so far found no other black-bearded man in the entire case. It seems to me, therefore, it must have been Felix.’
‘If M. Lefarge’s theory is correct,’ interposed Burnley, ‘the letter about the bet must have been written by Felix. In this case, could this letter and the journeys of the cask not have been devised with the object of throwing suspicion on Le Gautier?’
‘Or on Boirac?’ suggested the Chief.
‘Boirac!’ cried Lefarge, with a rapid gesture of satisfaction. ‘That was it, of course! I see it now. The whole of the business of the letter and the cask was a plant designed by Felix to throw suspicion on Boirac. What do you think, monsieur?’
‘It certainly presents a working theory.’
‘But why,’ queried the Englishman, ‘should Le Gautier’s name be brought in? Why did he not use Boirac’s?’
‘It would have been too obvious,’ returned Lefarge, delighted with the rapid strides his theory was making. ‘It would have been crude. Felix would argue that if Boirac had written that letter, he would never have signed it himself. It was a subtle idea introducing Le Gautier’s name.
‘If Felix did it,’ Burnley continued, ‘it would certainly clear up the difficulty of the authorship of the letter. He is the only man we have discovered so far that would have had the necessary knowledge to write it. He was present at the Café Toisson d’Or, and had joined with Le Gautier in the lottery, and therefore knew that part of it. The discussion about criminals evading the police and the bet between Le Gautier and Dumarchez, neither of which we believe took place, he could have invented to account for the receipt of the cask, and finally, he would naturally know the details about the last journey of the cask, since he himself arranged them.’
‘Quite so,’ cried Lefarge eagerly, ‘it all works in. I believe we are beginning to see light. And we must not forget Suzanne’s evidence about the note. It is clear Madame and Felix had an understanding for that night. At least, we know of messages passing between them and the reply of Felix points to an assignation.’
‘An important point, certainly. And yet,’ the Chief objected, ‘there are difficulties. That singular point about the hatpins, for example. What do you make of that, Lefarge?’
‘Agitation, monsieur. I would suggest that this lady was so excited at the action she was about to take that she hardly knew what she was doing.’
The Chief shook his head.
‘I don’t know that that is very satisfactory,’ he said. ‘Might it not, as also the fact that she took no luggage, mean that she never left the house at all? That she was murdered that same evening of the dinner-party, and the hat and coat removed to make a false scent? I suppose you have considered that?’
Burnley answered at once.
‘I thought of that first of all, monsieur, but I dismissed it as impossible for the following reasons. First, if she was murdered on Saturday night, what was done with the body? It could not have been put into the cask in the study, as I had thought at first, for that was full. The statue was not unpacked till two nights later, on Monday. We know, indeed, it was not put into the cask, for that was returned direct to Messrs. Dupierre’s and found to be empty. Secondly, it could not have been hidden anywhere else in the house, for François and Suzanne made a thorough search on the Sunday, and the corpse would have been too big a thing for them to have overlooked. Further, if she was murdered in the house, either Felix, Boirac, or some third person or persons must have done it. Felix could hardly be the man, as I do not see how he could have removed the body without a confederate, and we have not found such. Boirac would perhaps have had more chances of disposing of the body, though I do not see how, but he had a complete alibi. Lastly, I felt strongly that François, the butler, was to be believed. I could not imagine him party to the murder, and I did not see how it could have been done at the time you suggest without his knowledge.’
‘That certainly seems probable. In fact, when you add it to M. Lefarge’s point that the body must have been put into the cask in London, it seems to me almost conclusive.’
‘I also feel sure it could not have been done then,’ observed Lefarge, ‘though I don’t agree with Mr. Burnley that Boirac’s alibi is good.’
‘Well now, I was rather inclined to accept the alibi,’ said M. Chauvet. ‘What part of it do you consider doubtful, Lefarge?’
‘All of it from the time Boirac left the works. We don’t know whether that American exists at all. As far as I can see, the whole thing may be an invention.’
‘That is quite true,’ admitted the Chief, ‘but it didn’t seem to me so very important. The crucial point, to my mind, is the hour at which Boirac says he returned home—a few minutes past one. That is confirmed by François and by Suzanne, and I think we may accept their statement. But we have a further rather convincing incident. You may recollect Boirac stated that when he was halfway home from the Gare Quai d’Orsay it began to rain? You very properly tried to check even so small a point by asking François if his master’s coat was wet. He replied that it was. Now, I made inquiries, and I find that night was perfectly fine till almost one o’clock, when a thick, wetting rain began to fall. We know, therefore, quite definitely that Boirac was out until the time he said. Therefore he could not have done the deed before 1.15. Also, we know that he could not have done it after that hour, because the lady was gone, and also the butler and maid were about. Therefore, if Boirac did it at all, it must have been after that night.’
‘That seems unquestionable, monsieur,’ said Lefarge, ‘and when you add to that the fact that we have, so far at any rate, been quite unable to connect Boirac with the letter or the cask, and that we are practically certain Madame travelled to London, I think he may almost be eliminated from the inquiry. What do you say, Burnley?’
‘Well, I think it’s a little so soon to eliminate any one from inquiry. I confess that point of motive struck me as being very strong against Boirac.’
‘That also, by the way, seems to show the deed was not done by Boirac that night,’ the Chief went on. ‘Your point is that he killed his wife because she had run away with Felix. But if he came home and found her there, she obviously hadn’t run away. Hence the motive, for that night at least, falls to the ground.’
The three men laughed, and M. Chauvet resumed:—
‘Now, to sum up our present position. We know that Mme. Boirac was murdered between 11.30 p.m. on the Saturday of the dinner-party, and the following Monday evening, when the letter purporting to be from Felix and ordering the statue, was written. Obviously
