The Mystery of Orcival by Émile Gaboriau (fiction book recommendations .TXT) 📕

of we must look after Trémorel; so let’s take our measures to finish it up today.”

“What! do you hope to do everything today⁠—”

“Certainly. Rapidity is above all necessary in our profession. It often takes a month to regain an hour lost. We’ve a chance now of catching Hector by surprise; tomorrow it will be too late. Either we shall have him within four-and-twenty hours or we must change our batteries. Each of my three men has a carriage and a good horse; they may be able to finish with the upholsterers within an hour from now. If I calculate aright, we shall have the address in an hour, or at most in two hours, and then we will act.”

Lecoq, as he spoke, took a sheet of paper surmounted by his arms out of his portfolio, and rapidly wrote several lines.

“See here,” said he, “what I’ve written to one of my lieutenants.”

“Monsieur Job⁠—

“Get together six or eight of our men at once and take them to the wine merchant’s at the corner of the Rue des Martyrs and the Rue Lamartine; await my orders there.”

“Why there and not here?”

“Because we must avoid needless excursions. At the place I have designated we are only two steps from Madame Charman’s and near Trémorel’s retreat; for the wretch has hired his rooms in the quarter of Notre Dame de Lorette.”

M. Plantat gave an exclamation of surprise.

“What makes you think that?”

The detective smiled, as if the question seemed foolish to him.

“Don’t you recollect that the envelope of the letter addressed by Mademoiselle Courtois to her family to announce her suicide bore the Paris postmark, and that of the branch office of Rue St. Lazare? Now listen to this: On leaving her aunt’s house, Laurence must have gone directly to Trémorel’s apartments, the address of which he had given her, and where he had promised to meet her on Thursday morning. She wrote the letter, then, in his apartments. Can we admit that she had the presence of mind to post the letter in another quarter than that in which she was? It is at least probable that she was ignorant of the terrible reasons which Trémorel had to fear a search and pursuit. Had Hector foresight enough to suggest this trick to her? No, for if he wasn’t a fool he would have told her to post the letter somewhere outside of Paris. It is therefore scarcely possible that it was posted anywhere else than at the nearest branch office.”

These suppositions were so simple that M. Plantat wondered he had not thought of them before. But men do not see clearly in affairs in which they are deeply interested; passion dims the eyes, as heat in a room dims a pair of spectacles. He had lost, with his coolness, a part of his clearsightedness. His anxiety was very great; for he thought M. Lecoq had a singular mode of keeping his promise.

“It seems to me,” he could not help remarking, “that if you wish to keep Hector from trial, the men you have summoned together will be more embarrassing than useful.”

M. Lecoq thought that his guest’s tone and look betrayed a certain doubt, and was irritated by it.

“Do you distrust me, Monsieur Plantat?”

The old man tried to protest.

“Believe me⁠—”

“You have my word,” resumed M. Lecoq, “and if you knew me better you would know that I always keep it when I have given it. I have told you that I would do my best to save Mademoiselle Laurence; but remember that I have promised you my assistance, not absolute success. Let me, then, take such measures as I think best.”

So saying, he rang for Janouille.

“Here’s a letter,” said he when she appeared, “which must be sent to Job at once.”

“I will carry it.”

“By no means. You will be pleased to remain here and wait for the men that I sent out this morning. As they come in, send them to the wine merchant’s at the corner of the Rue des Martyrs; you know it⁠—opposite the church. They’ll find a numerous company there.”

As he gave his orders, he took off his gown, assumed a long black coat, and carefully adjusted his wig.

“Will Monsieur be back this evening?” asked Janouille.

“I don’t know.”

“And if anybody comes from over yonder?”

“Over yonder” with a detective, always means “the house”⁠—otherwise the prefecture of police.

“Say that I am out on the Corbeil affair.”

M. Lecoq was soon ready. He had the air, physiognomy, and manners of a highly respectable chief clerk of fifty. Gold spectacles, an umbrella, everything about him exhaled an odor of the ledger.

“Now,” said he to M. Plantat. “Let’s hurry away.” Goulard, who had made a hearty breakfast, was waiting for his hero in the dining-room.

“Ah ha, old fellow,” said M. Lecoq. “So you’ve had a few words with my wine. How do you find it?”

“Delicious, my chief; perfect⁠—that is to say, a true nectar.”

“It’s cheered you up, I hope.”

“Oh, yes, my chief.”

“Then you may follow us a few steps and mount guard at the door of the house where you see us go in. I shall probably have to confide a pretty little girl to your care whom you will carry to Monsieur Domini. And open your eyes; for she’s a sly creature, and very apt to inveigle you on the way and slip through your fingers.”

They went out, and Janouille stoutly barricaded herself behind them.

XXV

Whosoever needs a loan of money, or a complete suit of clothes in the top of the fashion, a pair of ladies’ boots, or an Indian cashmere; a porcelain table service or a good picture; whosoever desires diamonds, curtains, laces, a house in the country, or a provision of wood for winter fires⁠—may procure all these, and many other things besides, at Mme. Charman’s.

Mme. Charman lives at 136, Rue Notre Dame de Lorette, on the first story above the ground-floor. Her customers must give madame some guarantee of their credit; a woman, if she be young and pretty, may be accommodated at madame’s at the reasonable rate