what I meant to say. . . . I know that, for you, chief, there are things that talk like human beings, real living witnesses. For all that, here is a murder well and duly added to our score against Master Lupin."
"The first," observed M. Lenormand.
"The first, yes. . . . But it was bound to come. You can't lead that sort of life without, sooner or later, being driven by circumstances to serious crime. Mr. Kesselbach must have defended himself. . . ."
"No, because he was bound."
"That's true," owned Gourel, somewhat disconcertedly, "and it's rather curious too. . . . Why kill an adversary who has practically ceased to exist? . . . But, no matter, if I had collared him yesterday, when we were face to face at the hall-door . . ."
M. Lenormand had stepped out on the balcony. Then he went to Mr. Kesselbach's bedroom, on the right, and tried the fastenings of the windows and doors.
"The windows of both rooms were shut when I came in," said Gourel.
"Shut, or just pushed to?"
"No one has touched them since. And they are shut, chief."
A sound of voices brought them back to the sitting-room. Here they found the divisional surgeon, engaged in examining the body, and M. Formerie, the magistrate. M. Formerie exclaimed:
"Arsène Lupin! I am glad that at last a lucky chance has brought me into touch with that scoundrel again! I'll show the fellow the stuff I'm made of! . . . And this time it's a murder! . . . It's a fight between you and me now, Master Lupin!"
M. Formerie had not forgotten the strange adventure of the Princesse de Lamballe's diadem, nor the wonderful way in which Lupin had tricked him a few years before.[1] The thing had remained famous in the annals of the law-courts. People still laughed at it; and in M. Formerie it had left a just feeling of resentment, combined with the longing for a striking revenge.
[1] See Arsène Lupin. By Edgar Jepson and Maurice Leblanc. (Doubleday, Page & Co.).
"The nature of the crime is self-evident," he declared, with a great air of conviction, "and we shall have no difficulty in discovering the motive. So all is well. . . . M. Lenormand, how do you do? . . . I am delighted to see you. . . ."
M. Formerie was not in the least delighted. On the contrary, M. Lenormand's presence did not please him at all, seeing that the chief detective hardly took the trouble to disguise the contempt in which he held him. However, the magistrate drew himself up and, in his most solemn tones:
"So, doctor, you consider that death took place about a dozen hours ago, perhaps more! . . . That, in fact, was my own idea. . . . We are quite agreed. . . . And the instrument of the crime?"
"A knife with a very thin blade, Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction," replied the surgeon. "Look, the blade has been wiped on the dead man's own handkerchief. . . ."
"Just so . . . just so . . . you can see the mark. . . . And now let us go and question Mr. Kesselbach's secretary and man-servant. I have no doubt that their examination will throw some more light on the case."
Chapman, who together with Edwards, had been moved to his own room, on the left of the sitting-room, had already recovered from his experiences. He described in detail the events of the previous day, Mr. Kesselbach's restlessness, the expected visit of the Colonel and, lastly, the attack of which they had been the victims.
"Aha!" cried M. Formerie. "So there's an accomplice! And you heard his name! . . . Marco, you say? . . . This is very important. When we've got the accomplice, we shall be a good deal further advanced. . . ."
"Yes, but we've not got him," M. Lenormand ventured to remark.
"We shall see. . . . One thing at a time. . . . And then, Mr. Chapman, this Marco went away immediately after M. Gourel had rung the bell?"
"Yes, we heard him go."
"And after he went, did you hear nothing else?"
"Yes . . . from time to time, but vaguely. . . . The door was shut."
"And what sort of noises did you hear?"
"Bursts of voices. The man . . ."
"Call him by his name, Arsène Lupin."
"Arsène Lupin must have telephoned."
"Capital! We will examine the person of the hotel who has charge of the branch exchange communicating with the outside. And, afterward, did you hear him go out, too?"
"He came in to see if we were still bound; and, a quarter of an hour later, he went away, closing the hall-door after him."
"Yes, as soon as his crime was committed. Good. . . . Good. . . . It all fits in. . . . And, after that?"
"After that, we heard nothing more. . . . The night passed. . . . I fell asleep from exhaustion. . . . So did Edwards. . . . And it was not until this morning . . ."
"Yes, I know. . . . There, it's not going badly . . . it all fits in. . . ."
And, marking off the stages of his investigation, in a tone as though he were enumerating so many victories over the stranger, he muttered thoughtfully:
"The accomplice . . . the telephone . . . the time of the murder . . . the sounds that were heard. . . . Good. . . . Very good. . . . We have still to establish the motive of the crime. . . . In this case, as we have Lupin to deal with, the motive is obvious. M. Lenormand, have you noticed the least sign of anything being broken open?"
"No."
"Then the robbery must have been effected upon the person of the victim himself. Has his pocket-book been found?"
"I left it in the pocket of his jacket," said Gourel.
They all went into the sitting-room, where M. Formerie discovered that the pocket-book contained nothing but visiting-cards and papers establishing the murdered man's identity.
"That's odd. Mr. Chapman, can you tell us if Mr. Kesselbach had any money on him?"
"Yes. On the previous day—that is, on Monday, the day before yesterday—we went to the Crédit Lyonnais, where Mr. Kesselbach hired a safe . . ."
"A safe at the Crédit Lyonnais? Good. . . . We must look into that."
"And, before we left, Mr. Kesselbach opened an account and drew out five or six thousand francs in bank-notes."
"Excellent . . . that tells us just what we want to know."
Chapman continued:
"There is another point, Monsieur le Juge d'Instruction. Mr. Kesselbach, who for some days had been very uneasy in his mind—I have told you the reason: a scheme to which he attached the utmost importance—Mr. Kesselbach seemed particularly anxious about two things. There was, first, a little ebony box, which he put away
