The Cask by Freeman Wills Crofts (feel good novels .txt) 📕

“Of course we did. We had the money, and why should we not do so?”

“Look here, M. Thévenet,” continued Burnley, “we are evidently talking at cross purposes. Let me first explain more fully about the label. According to our information, which we have no reason to doubt, the address space had been neatly cut out and another piece of paper pasted behind, bearing the address in question. It seemed to us therefore, that some person had received the cask from you and, having altered the label, packed the body in it and sent it on. Now we are to understand that the cask was sent out by you. Why then should the label have been altered?”

“I’m sure I cannot tell.”

“May I ask what was in the cask when it left here?”

“Certainly. It was a small group of statuary by a good man and rather valuable.”

“I’m afraid, M. Thévenet, I haven’t got the matter clear yet. It would oblige us both very much if you would be kind enough to tell us all you know about the sending out of that cask.”

“With pleasure.” He touched a bell and a clerk entered.

“Bring me,” he said, “all the papers about the sale of that group of Le Mareschal’s to M. Felix of London.” He turned again to his visitors.

“Perhaps I had better begin by explaining our business to you. It is in reality three businesses carried on simultaneously by one firm. First, we make plaster casts of well-known pieces. They are not valuable and sell for very little. Secondly, we make monuments, tombstones, decorative stone panels and the like for buildings, rough work, but fairly good. Lastly we trade in really fine sculpture, acting as agents between the artists and the public. We have usually a considerable number of such good pieces in our showroom. It was one of these latter, a 1,400 franc group, that was ordered by M. Felix.”

“Felix ordered it?” burst in Burnley, “but there, pardon me. I must not interrupt.”

The clerk returned at this moment and laid some papers on his principal’s desk. The latter turned them over, selected one, and handed it to Burnley.

“Here is his letter, you see, received by us on the morning of the 30th of March, and enclosing notes for 1,500 francs. The envelope bore the London postmark.”

The letter was written by hand on one side of a single sheet of paper and was as follows:⁠—

“141 West Jubb Street,
“Tottenham Court Road,
“London, WC,
“29th March, 1912.

“Messrs Dupierre et Cie.,
“Rue Provence,
“Rue de la Convention,
“Grenelle, Paris.

“Gentlemen.⁠—I am anxious to purchase the group of statuary in the left-hand corner back of your Boulevard des Capucines showroom, looking from the street. The group is of three female figures, two seated and one standing. There can be no doubt about the one I mean, as it is the only such in the left of the window.

“Please forward immediately to the above address.

“I do not know the exact price, but understand it is about 1,500 francs. I therefore enclose notes for that sum, and if a balance remains on either side it can be adjusted by letter.

“I may say that an unexpected call to England prevented me ordering this in person.

“Yours, etc.

“Léon Felix.”

Inspector Burnley examined the letter.

“You will allow us to keep this in the meantime, I presume?” he asked.

“Certainly.”

“You said the money was in notes. You mean, I take it, ordinary State paper money whose source could not be traced; not any kind of cheque or draft payable through a bank?”

“Precisely.”

“Well, sir, pardon my interruption.”

“There is little more to add. The group was packed and despatched on the day we received the letter. Its price was, as a matter of fact, only 1,400 francs, and the balance of 100 francs was therefore enclosed with it. This was considered as safe as any other way of sending it, as the cask was insured for its full value.”

“The cask? You packed it then in a cask?”

“Yes. We make a special kind of cask in two sizes, very heavy and strong, for sending out such pieces. It is our own idea, and we are rather proud of it. We find it simpler and safer than a crate.”

“We have the cask in a cart outside. Perhaps, if we brought it in, you would be good enough to see if it could be identified, firstly if it is yours, and secondly, if so, if it is the particular one you sent to Felix.”

“Well, you see, unfortunately it was sent from our showrooms in the Boulevard des Capucines. If you have time to take it there I will instruct the manager to assist you in every way in his power. Indeed, I will go with you myself. I shall not be able to rest until the matter is cleared up.”

The detectives thanked him and, while Lefarge was instructing the carter, M. Thévenet procured a taxi and they drove to the Boulevard des Capucines.

The showrooms consisted of a small but luxuriously fitted up shop, containing many objects of excellence and value. M. Thévenet introduced the manager, M. Thomas, a young and capable looking man, who invited them into his office. He did not speak English, and Lefarge carried on the conversation.

“These gentlemen,” said M. Thévenet, “are making some inquiries about the sale of Le Mareschal’s group to Mr. Felix of London last week. I want you to tell them all you can, Thomas.”

The young man bowed.

“With pleasure, monsieur.”

In a few words Lefarge put him in possession of the main facts. “Perhaps,” he continued, “if you would be kind enough to tell me all that you know, I could then ask questions on any point I did not understand.”

“But certainly, monsieur. There is not much to tell.” He looked up some memoranda. “On Tuesday week, the 30th of March, we had a phone from the head office saying that M. Le Mareschal’s last group, which we had on exhibition in our window, was sold. We were to send it at