next?" echoed Ganimard.
"Yes, what next?… This is all very interesting; but what has it to do with the case? If Mme. de Réal took the ring, why was it found in Herr Bleichen's tooth-powder? Come, Ganimard! A person who takes the trouble to steal the blue diamond keeps it. What have you to answer to that?"
"I, nothing. But Mme. de Réal will answer."
"Then she exists?"
"She exists … without existing. In a few words, here it is: three days ago, reading the paper which I read every day, I saw at the head of the list of arrivals at Trouville, 'Hôtel Beaurivage, Mme. de Réal,' and so on.... You can imagine that I was at Trouville that same evening, questioning the manager of the Beaurivage. According to the description and certain clues which I gathered, this Mme. de Réal was indeed the person whom I was looking for, but she had gone from the hotel, leaving her address in Paris, 3, Rue du Colisée. On Wednesday, I called at that address and learnt that there was no Madame de Réal, but just a woman called Réal, who lived on the second floor, followed the occupation of a diamond-broker and was often away. Only the day before, she had come back from a journey. Yesterday, I rang at her door and, under a false name, offered my services to Mme. de Réal as an intermediary to introduce her to people who were in a position to buy valuable stones. We made an appointment to meet here to-day for a first transaction."
"Oh, so you expect her?"
"At half-past five."
"And are you sure?…"
"That it is Mme. de Réal of the Château de Crozon? I have indisputable proofs. But … hark!… Folenfant's signal!…"
A whistle had sounded. Ganimard rose briskly:
"We have not a moment to lose. M. and Madame de Crozon, go into the next room, please. You too, M. d'Hautrec … and you also, M. Gerbois.... The door will remain open and, at the first sign, I will ask you to intervene. Do you stay, chief, please."
"And, if anyone else comes in?" asked M. Dudouis.
"No one will. This is a new establishment and the proprietor, who is a friend of mine, will not let a living soul come up the stairs … except the blonde lady."
"The blonde lady? What do you mean?"
"The blonde lady herself, chief, the friend and accomplice of Arsène Lupin, the mysterious blonde lady, against whom I have positive proofs, but against whom I want, over and above those and in your presence, to collect the evidence of all the people whom she has robbed."
He leant out of the window:
"She is coming.... She has gone in.... She can't escape now: Folenfant and Dieuzy are guarding the door.... The blonde lady is ours, chief; we've got her!"
Almost at that moment, a woman appeared upon the threshold, a tall, thin woman, with a very pale face and violent golden hair.
Ganimard was stifled by such emotion that he stood dumb, incapable of articulating the least word. She was there, in front of him, at his disposal! What a victory over Arsène Lupin! And what a revenge! And, at the same time, that victory seemed to him to have been won with such ease that he wondered whether the blonde lady was not going to slip through his fingers, thanks to one of those miracles which Lupin was in the habit of performing.
She stood waiting, meanwhile, surprised at the silence, and looked around her without disguising her uneasiness.
"She will go! She will disappear!" thought Ganimard, in dismay.
Suddenly, he placed himself between her and the door. She turned and tried to go out.
"No, no," he said. "Why go?"
"But, monsieur, I don't understand your ways. Let me pass...."
"There is no reason for you to go, madame, and every reason, on the contrary, why you should stay."
"But …"
"It's no use, you are not going."
Turning very pale, she sank into a chair and stammered:
"What do you want?"
Ganimard triumphed. He had got the blonde lady. Mastering himself, he said:
"Let me introduce the friend of whom I spoke to you, the one who would like to buy some jewels … especially diamonds. Did you obtain the one you promised me?"
"No … no.... I don't know.... I forget...."
"Oh, yes.... Just try.... Someone you knew was to bring you a coloured diamond.... 'Something like the blue diamond,' I said, laughing, and you answered, 'Exactly. I may have what you want.' Do you remember?"
She was silent. A little wristbag which she was holding in her hand fell to the ground. She picked it up quickly and pressed it to her. Her fingers trembled a little.
"Come," said Ganimard. "I see that you do not trust us, Madame de Réal. I will set you a good example and let you see what I have got to show."
He took a piece of paper from his pocketbook and unfolded it:
"Here, first of all, is some of the hair of Antoinette Bréhat, torn out by the baron and found clutched in the dead man's hand. I have seen Mlle. de Gerbois: she has most positively recognized the colour of the hair of the blonde lady … the same colour as yours, for that matter … exactly the same colour."
Mme. de Réal watched him with a stupid expression, as though she really did not grasp the sense of his words. He continued:
"And now here are two bottles of scent. They are empty, it is true, and have no labels; but enough of the scent still clings to them to have enabled Mlle. Gerbois, this very morning, to recognize the perfume of the blonde lady who accompanied her on her fortnight's excursion. Now, one of these bottles comes from the room which Mme. de Réal occupied at the Château de Crozon and the other from the room which you occupied at the Hôtel Beaurivage."
"What are you talking about?… The blonde lady … the Château de Crozon...."
The inspector, without replying, spread four sheets of paper on the table.
"Lastly," he said, "here, on these four sheets, we have a specimen of the handwriting of Antoinette Bréhat, another of the lady who sent a note to Baron Herschmann during the sale of the blue diamond, another of Mme. de Réal, at the time of her stay at Crozon, and the fourth … your own, madame … your name and address given by yourself to the hall-porter of the Hôtel Beaurivage at Trouville. Now, please compare these four handwritings. They are one and the same."
"But you are mad, sir, you are mad! What does all this mean?"
"It means, madame," cried Ganimard, with a great outburst, "that the blonde lady, the friend and accomplice of Arsène Lupin, is none other than yourself."
He pushed open the door of the next room, rushed at M. Gerbois, shoved him along by the shoulders and, planting him in front of Mme. Réal:
"M. Gerbois, do you recognize the person who took away your daughter and whom you saw at Maître Detinan's?"
"No."
There was a commotion of which every one felt the shock. Ganimard staggered back:
"No?…
