Other People's Money by Emile Gaboriau (ebook smartphone txt) 📕

“I must tell you,” resumed the judge, “that M. de Thaller has himself informed me of this circumstance.  When he called at your house, he was ignorant, as yet, of the extent of the embezzlements, and was in hopes of being able to hush up the affair.  That’s why he wished his cashier to start for Belgium.  This system of helping criminals to escape the just punishment of their crimes is to be bitterly deplored; but it is quite the habit of your financial magnates, who prefer sending some poor devil of an employe to hang himself abroad than run the risk of compromising their credit by confessing that they have been robbed.”

Maxence might have had a great deal to say; but M. de Tregars had recommended him the most extreme reserve.  He remained silent.

“On the other hand,” resumed the judge, “the refusal to accept the money so generously offered does not speak in favor of Vincent Favoral.  He was well aware, when he left, that it would require a great deal of money to reach the frontier, escape pursuit, and hide himself abroad; and, if he refused the fifteen thousand francs, it must have been because he was well provided for already.”

Tears of shame and rage started from Maxence’s eyes.  “I am certain, sir,” he exclaimed, “that my father went off without a sou.”

“What has become of the millions, then?” he asked coldly.

Maxence hesitated.  Why not mention his suspicions?  He dared not.

“My father speculated at the bourse,” he stammered.  “And he led a scandalous conduct, keeping up, away from home, a style of living which must have absorbed immense sums.”

“We knew nothing of it, sir; and our first suspicions were aroused by what the commissary of police told us.”

The judge insisted no more; and in a tone which indicated that his question was a mere matter of form, and he attached but little importance to the answer,

“You have no news from your father?” he asked.

“None whatever.”

“And you have no idea where he has gone?”

“None in the least.”

M. d’Avranchel had already resumed his seat at the table, and was again busy with his papers.

“You may retire,” he said.  “You will be notified if I need you.”

Maxence felt much discouraged when he joined M. de Tregars at the entrance of the gallery.

“The judge is convinced of M. de Thaller’s entire innocence,” he said.

But as soon as he had narrated, with a fidelity that did honor to his memory, all that had just occurred,

“Nothing is lost yet,” declared M. de Tregars.  And, taking from his pocket the bill for two trunks, which had been found in M. Favoral’s portfolio,

“There,” he said, “we shall know our fate.”

IV

M. de Tregars and Maxence were in luck.  They had a good driver and a fair horse; and in twenty minutes they were at the trunk store.  As soon as the cab stopped,

“Well,” exclaimed M. de Tregars, “I suppose it has to be done.”

And, with the look of a man who has made up his mind to do something which is extremely repugnant to him, he jumped out, and, followed by Maxence, entered the shop.

It was a modest establishment; and the people who kept it, husband and wife, seeing two customers coming in, rushed to meet them, with that welcoming smile which blossoms upon the lips of every Parisian shopkeeper.

“What will you have, gentlemen?”

And, with wonderful volubility, they went on enumerating every article which they had for sale in their shop,—from the “indispensable-necessary,” containing seventy-seven pieces of solid silver, and costing four thousand francs, down to the humblest carpet-bag at thirty-nine cents.

But Marius de Tregars interrupted them as soon as he could get an opportunity, and, showing them their bill,

“It was here, wasn’t it,” he inquired, “that the two trunks were bought which are charged in this bill?”

“Yes, sir,” answered simultaneously both husband and wife.

“When were they delivered?”

“Our porter went to deliver them, less than two hours after they were bought.”

“Where?”

By this time the shopkeepers were beginning to exchange uneasy looks.

“Why do you ask?” inquired the woman in a tone which indicated that she had the settled intention not to answer, unless for good and valid reason.

To obtain the simplest information is not always as easy as might be supposed.  The suspicion of the Parisian tradesman is easily aroused; and, as his head is stuffed with stories of spies and robbers, as soon as he is questioned he becomes as dumb as an oyster.

But M. de Tregars had foreseen the difficulty: 

“I beg you to believe, madame,” he went on, “that my questions are not dictated by an idle curiosity.  Here are the facts.  A relative of ours, a man of a certain age, of whom we are very fond, and whose head is a little weak, left his home some forty-eight hours since.  We are looking for him, and we are in hopes, if we find these trunks, to find him at the same time.”

With furtive glances, the husband and wife were tacitly consulting each other.

“The fact is,” they said, “we wouldn’t like, under any consideration, to commit an indiscretion which might result to the prejudice of a customer.”

“Fear nothing,” said M. de Tregars with a reassuring gesture.  “If we have not had recourse to the police, it’s because, you know, it isn’t pleasant to have the police interfere in one’s affairs.  If you have any objections to answer me, however, I must, of course, apply to the commissary.”

The argument proved decisive.

“If that’s the case,” replied the woman, “I am ready to tell all I know.”

“Well, then, madame, what do you know?”

“These two trunks were bought on Friday afternoon last, by a man of a certain age, tall, very thin, with a stern countenance, and wearing a long frock coat.”

“No more doubt,” murmured Maxence.  “It was he.”

“And now,” the woman went on, “that you have just told me that your relative was a little weak in the head, I remember that this gentleman had a strange sort of way about him, and that he kept walking about the store as if he had fleas on his legs.  And awful particular he was too!