The Teeth of the Tiger by Maurice Leblanc (e book reader android TXT) 📕

that the deputy chief did not believe one word of the story. He knew through M. Desmalions and Mazeroux that Don Luis was in love with Florence; and Don Luis was not the man even through jealousy to hand over a woman whom he loved. He increased his attention.

“Good business!” he said. “Take me up to your room. Was it a hard struggle?”

“Not very. I managed to disarm the scoundrel. All the same, Mazeroux got stabbed in the thumb.”

“Nothing serious?”

“Oh, dear, no; but he has gone to have his wound dressed at the chemist’s.”

The deputy chief stopped, greatly surprised.

“What! Isn’t Mazeroux in your room with the two prisoners?”

“I never told you that he was.”

“No, but your butler⁠—”

“The butler made a mistake. Mazeroux went out a few minutes before you came.”

“It’s funny,” said Weber, watching Don Luis closely, “but my men all think he’s here. They haven’t seen him go out.”

“They haven’t seen him go out?” echoed Don Luis, pretending to feel anxious. “But, then, where can he be? He told me he wanted to have his thumb seen to.”

The deputy chief was growing more and more suspicious. Evidently Perenna was trying to get rid of him by sending him in search of the sergeant.

“I will send one of my men,” he said. “Is the chemist’s near?”

“Just around the corner, in the Rue de Bourgogne. Besides, we can telephone.”

“Oh, we can telephone!” muttered Weber.

He was quite at a loss and looked like a man who does not know what is going to happen next. He moved slowly toward the instrument, while barring the way to Don Luis to prevent his escaping. Don Luis therefore retreated to the telephone box, as if forced to do so, took down the receiver with one hand, and, calling, “Hullo! Hullo! Saxe, 2409,” with the other hand, which was resting against the wall, he cut one of the wires with a pair of pliers which he had taken off the table as he passed.

“Hullo! Are you there? Is that 2409? Are you the chemist?⁠ ⁠… Hullo!⁠ ⁠… Sergeant Mazeroux of the detective service is with you, isn’t he? Eh? What? What do you say? But it’s too awful! Are you sure? Do you mean to say the wound is poisoned?”

Without thinking what he was doing, the deputy chief pushed Don Luis aside and took hold of the receiver. The thought of the poisoned wound was too much for him.

“Are you there?” he cried, keeping an eye on Don Luis and motioning to him not to go away. “Are you there?⁠ ⁠… Eh?⁠ ⁠… It’s Deputy Chief Weber, of the detective office, speaking.⁠ ⁠… Hullo! Are you there?⁠ ⁠… I want to know about Sergeant Mazeroux.⁠ ⁠… Are you there?⁠ ⁠… Oh, hang it, why don’t you answer!”

Suddenly he let go the instrument, looked at the wires, perceived that they had been cut, and turned round, showing a face that clearly expressed the thought in his mind.

“That’s done it. I’ve been tricked!”

Perenna was standing a couple of yards behind him, leaning carelessly against the woodwork of the arch, with his left hand passed between his back and the woodwork. He was smiling, smiling pleasantly, kindly, and genially:

“Don’t move!” he said, with a gesture of his right hand.

Weber, more frightened by that smile than he would have been by threats, took good care not to move.

“Don’t move,” repeated Don Luis, in a very queer voice. “And, whatever you do, don’t be alarmed. You shan’t be hurt, I promise you. Just five minutes in a dark cell for a naughty little boy. Are you ready? One two, three! Bang!”

He stood aside and pressed the button that worked the iron curtain. The heavy panel came crashing to the floor. The deputy chief was a prisoner.

“That’s a hundred millions gone to Jericho,” grinned Don Luis. “A pretty trick, but a bit expensive. Goodbye, Mornington inheritance! Goodbye, Don Luis Perenna! And now, my dear Lupin, if you don’t want Weber to take his revenge, beat a retreat and in good order. One, two; left, right; left, right!”

As he spoke, he locked, on the inside, the folding doors between the drawing-room and the first-floor anteroom; then, returning to his study, he locked the door between this room and the drawing-room.

The deputy chief was banging at the iron curtain with all his might and shouting so loud that they were bound to hear him outside through the open window.

“You’re not making half enough noise, deputy!” cried Don Luis. “Let’s see what we can do.”

He took his revolver and fired off three bullets, one of which broke a pane. Then he quickly left his study by a small, massive door, which he carefully closed behind him. He was now in a secret passage which ran round both rooms and ended at another door leading to the anteroom. He opened this door wide and was thus able to hide behind it.

Attracted by the shots and the noise, the detectives were already rushing through the hall and up the staircase. When they reached the first floor and had gone through the anteroom, as the drawing-room doors were locked, the only outlet open to them was the passage, at the end of which they could hear the deputy shouting. They all six darted down it.

When the last of them had vanished round the bend in the passage, Don Luis softly pushed back the door that concealed him and locked it like the rest. The six detectives were as safely imprisoned as the deputy chief.

“Bottled!” muttered Don Luis. “It will take them quite five minutes to realize the situation, to bang at the locked doors, and to break down one of them. In five minutes we shall be far away.”

He met two of his servants running up with scared faces, the chauffeur and the butler. He flung each of them a thousand-franc note and said to the chauffeur:

“Set the engine going, there’s a sportsman, and let no one near the machine to block my way. Two thousand francs more for each of you if I get off