first place," said Ganimard, "I will ask Monsieur Charles to be very particular on one point: He says that, on the occasion of his first visit to the room, various articles of furniture were overturned and strewn about the place; now, I ask him whether, on his second visit to the room, he found all those articles restored to their accustomed places—I mean, of course, correctly placed."
"Yes, all in their proper places," replied Charles.
"It is obvious, then, that the person who replaced them must have been familiar with the location of those articles."
The logic of this remark was apparent to his hearers. Ganimard continued:
"One more question, Monsieur Charles. You were awakened by the ringing of your bell. Now, who, do you think, rang it?"
"Monsieur le baron, of course."
"When could he ring it?"
"After the struggle ... when he was dying."
"Impossible; because you found him lying, unconscious, at a point more than four metres from the bell-button."
"Then he must have rung during the struggle."
"Impossible," declared Ganimard, "since the ringing, as you have said, was continuous and uninterrupted, and lasted seven or eight seconds. Do you think his antagonist would have permitted him to ring the bell in that leisurely manner?"
"Well, then, it was before the attack."
"Also, quite impossible, since you have told us that the lapse of time between the ringing of the bell and your entrance to the room was not more than three minutes. Therefore, if the baron rang before the attack, we are forced to the conclusion that the struggle, the murder and the flight of the assassin, all occurred within the short space of three minutes. I repeat: that is impossible."
"And yet," said the magistrate, "some one rang. If it were not the baron, who was it?"
"The murderer."
"For what purpose?"
"I do not know. But the fact that he did ring proves that he knew that the bell communicated with the servant's room. Now, who would know that, except an inmate of the house?"
Ganimard was drawing the meshes of his net closer and tighter. In a few clear and logical sentences, he had unfolded and defined his theory of the crime, so that it seemed quite natural when the magistrate said:
"As I understand it, Ganimard, you suspect the girl Antoinette Bréhat?"
"I do not suspect her; I accuse her."
"You accuse her of being an accomplice?"
"I accuse her of having killed Baron d'Hautrec."
"Nonsense! What proof have you?"
"The handful of hair I found in the right hand of the victim."
He produced the hair; it was of a beautiful blond color, and glittered like threads of gold. Charles looked at it, and said:
"That is Mademoiselle Antoinette's hair. There can be no doubt of it. And, then, there is another thing. I believe that the knife, which I saw on my first visit to the room, belonged to her. She used it to cut the leaves of books."
A long, dreadful silence followed, as if the crime had acquired an additional horror by reason of having been committed by a woman. At last, the magistrate said:
"Let us assume, until we are better informed, that the baron was killed by Antoinette Bréhat. We have yet to learn where she concealed herself after the crime, how she managed to return after Charles left the house, and how she made her escape after the arrival of the police. Have you formed any opinion on those points Ganimard?"
"None."
"Well, then, where do we stand?"
Ganimard was embarrassed. Finally, with a visible effort, he said:
"All I can say is that I find in this case the same method of procedure as we found in the affair of the lottery ticket number 514; the same phenomena, which might be termed the faculty of disappearing. Antoinette Bréhat has appeared and disappeared in this house as mysteriously as Arsène Lupin entered the house of Monsieur Detinan and escaped therefrom in the company of the blonde lady.
"Does that signify anything?"
"It does to me. I can see a probable connection between those two strange incidents. Antoinette Bréhat was hired by Sister Auguste twelve days ago, that is to say, on the day after the blonde Lady so cleverly slipped through my fingers. In the second place, the hair of the blonde Lady was exactly of the same brilliant golden hue as the hair found in this case."
"So that, in your opinion, Antoinette Bréhat—"
"Is the blonde Lady—precisely."
"And that Lupin had a hand in both cases?"
"Yes, that is my opinion."
This statement was greeted with an outburst of laughter. It came from Mon. Dudouis.
"Lupin! always Lupin! Lupin is into everything; Lupin is everywhere!"
"Yes, Lupin is into everything of any consequence," replied Ganimard, vexed at the ridicule of his superior.
"Well, so far as I see," observed Mon. Dudouis, "you have not discovered any motive for this crime. The secretary was not broken into, nor the pocketbook carried away. Even, a pile of gold was left upon the table."
"Yes, that is so," exclaimed Ganimard, "but the famous diamond?"
"What diamond?"
"The blue diamond! The celebrated diamond which formed part of the royal crown of France, and which was given by the Duke d'Aumale to Leonide Lebrun, and, at the death of Leonide Lebrun, was purchased by the Baron d'Hautrec as a souvenir of the charming comedienne that he had loved so well. That is one of those things that an old Parisian, like I, does not forget."
"It is obvious that if the blue diamond is not found, the motive for the crime is disclosed," said the magistrate. "But where should we search for it?"
"On the baron's finger," replied Charles. "He always wore the blue diamond on his left hand."
"I saw that hand, and there was only a plain gold ring on it," said Ganimard, as he approached the corpse.
"Look in the palm of the hand," replied the servant.
Ganimard opened the stiffened hand. The bezel was turned inward, and, in the centre of that bezel, the blue diamond shone with all its glorious splendor.
"The deuce!" muttered Ganimard, absolutely amazed, "I don't understand it."
"You will now apologize to Lupin for having suspected him, eh?" said Mon. Dudouis, laughing.
Ganimard paused for a moment's reflection, and then replied, sententiously:
"It is only when I do not understand things that I suspect Arsène Lupin."
Such
