The Crystal Stopper by Maurice Leblanc (classic books for 10 year olds txt) 📕

“Now for the ticklish moment,” thought Lupin. “Have at him!”

And, in a genial, good-natured and rather shy tone, he said:

“No, monsieur le depute, there are cases in which a doctor’s duty becomes very complex... very puzzling... And you may think that, in taking this step... However, to cut a long story short, while I was attending Mme. Mergy, she made a second attempt to poison herself... Yes; the bottle, unfortunately, had been left within her reach. I snatched it from her. We had a struggle. And, railing in her fever, she said to me, in broken words, ‘He’s the man... He’s the man... Daubrecq the deputy... Make him give me back my son. Tell him to... or else I would rather die... Yes, now, to-night... I would rather die.’ That’s what she said, monsieur le depute... So I thought that I ought to let you know. It is quite certain that, in the lady’s highly nervous state of mind... Of course, I don’t know the exact meaning of her words... I asked no questions of anybody... obeyed a spontaneous impulse and came straight to you.”

Daubrecq reflected for a little while and said:

“It amounts to this, doctor, that you have come to ask me if I know the whereabouts of this child whom I presume to have disappeared. Is that it?”

“Yes.”

“And, if I did happen to know, you would take him back to his mother?”

There was a longer pause. Lupin asked himself:

“Can he by chance have swallowed the story? Is the threat of that death enough? Oh, nonsense it’s out of the question!... And yet... and yet... he seems to be hesitating.”

“Will you excuse me?” asked Daubrecq, drawing the telephone, on his writing-desk, toward him. “I have an urgent message.”

“Certainly, monsieur le depute.”

Daubrecq called out:

“Hullo!... 822.19, please, 822.19.”

Having repeated the number, he sat without moving.

Lupin smiled:

“The headquarters of police, isn’t it? The secretary-general’s office...”

“Yes, doctor... How do you know?”

“Oh, as a divisional surgeon, I sometimes have to ring them up.”

And, within himself, Lupin asked:

“What the devil does all this mean? The secretary-general is Prasville... Then, what?...”

Daubrecq put both receivers to his ears and said:

“Are you 822.19? I want to speak to M. Prasville, the secretary-general ... Do you say he’s not there?... Yes, yes, he is: he’s always in his office at this time... Tell him it’s M. Daubrecq... M. Daubrecq the deputy... a most important communication.”

“Perhaps I’m in the way?” Lupin suggested.

“Not at all, doctor, not at all,” said Daubrecq. “Besides, what I have to say has a certain bearing on your errand.” And, into the telephone, “Hullo! M. Prasville?... Ah, it’s you, Prasville, old cock!... Why, you seem quite staggered! Yes, you’re right, it’s an age since you and I met. But, after all, we’ve never been far away in thought... And I’ve had plenty of visits from you and your henchmen... In my absence, it’s true. Hullo!... What?... Oh, you’re in a hurry? I beg your pardon!... So am I, for that matter... Well, to come to the point, there’s a little service I want to do you... Wait, can’t you, you brute?... You won’t regret it... It concerns your renown... Hullo!... Are you listening?... Well, take half-a-dozen men with you... plain-clothes detectives, by preference: you’ll find them at the night-office... Jump into a taxi, two taxis, and come along here as fast as you can... I’ve got a rare quarry for you, old chap. One of the upper ten... a lord, a marquis Napoleon himself... in a word, Arsene Lupin!”

Lupin sprang to his feet. He was prepared for everything but this. Yet something within him stronger than astonishment, an impulse of his whole nature, made him say, with a laugh:

“Oh, well done, well done!”

Daubrecq bowed his head, by way of thanks, and muttered:

“I haven’t quite finished... A little patience, if you don’t mind.” And he continued, “Hullo! Prasville!... No, no, old chap, I’m not humbugging... You’ll find Lupin here, with me, in my study... Lupin, who’s worrying me like the rest of you... Oh, one more or less makes no difference to me! But, all the same, this one’s a bit too pushing. And I am appealing to your sense of kindness. Rid me of the fellow, do... Half-a-dozen of your satellites and the two who are pacing up and down outside my house will be enough... Oh, while you’re about it, go up to the third floor and rope in my cook as well... She’s the famous Victoire: you know, Master Lupin’s old nurse... And, look here, one more tip, to show you how I love you: send a squad of men to the Rue Chateaubriand, at the corner of the Rue Balzac... That’s where our national hero lives, under the name of Michel Beaumont... Do you twig, old cockalorum? And now to business. Hustle!”

When Daubrecq turned his head, Lupin was standing up, with clenched fists. His burst of admiration had not survived the rest of the speech and the revelations which Daubrecq had made about Victoire and the flat in the Rue Chateaubriand. The humiliation was too great; and Lupin no longer bothered to play the part of the small general practitioner. He had but one idea in his head: not to give way to the tremendous fit of rage that was urging him to rush at Daubrecq like a bull.

Daubrecq gave the sort of little cluck which, with him, did duty for a laugh. He came waddling up, with his hands in his trouser-pockets, and said, incisively:

“Don’t you think that this is all for the best? I’ve cleared the ground, relieved the situation... At least, we now know where we stand. Lupin versus Daubrecq; and that’s all about it. Besides, think of the time saved! Dr. Vernes, the divisional surgeon, would have taken two hours to spin his yarn! Whereas, like this, Master Lupin will be compelled to get his little story told in thirty minutes... unless he wants to get himself collared and his accomplices nabbed. What a shock! What a bolt from the blue! Thirty minutes and not a minute more. In thirty minutes from now, you’ll have to clear out, scud away like a hare and beat a disordered retreat. Ha, ha, ha, what fun! I say, Polonius, you really are unlucky, each time you come up against Bibi Daubrecq! For it was you who were hiding behind that curtain, wasn’t it, my ill-starred Polonius?”

Lupin did not stir a muscle. The one and only solution that would have calmed his feelings, that is to say, for him to throttle his adversary then and there, was so absurd that he preferred to accept Daubrecq’s gibes without attempting to retort, though each of them cut him like the lash of a whip. It was the second time, in the same room and in similar circumstances, that he had to bow before that Daubrecq of misfortune and maintain the most ridiculous attitude in silence. And he felt convinced in his innermost being that,