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"You understand, Monsieur Fandor, that there was no reason for refusing, that I could see, especially as he made the offer very nicely, and that it came in the nick of time, at the very moment when I have to admit it I would have done anything for money.... "After this we met frequently. Alfred used to send me invitations, and often he included Nichoune.
As former Under-Secretary at the Second Bureau he had the affair at his finger ends, and well knew how tangled, how obscure it was, how bristling with dangers, how rich in complications.... The Vinson affair, it was the Captain Brocq affair, the singer Nichoune affair ... the story of a plan of mobilisation stolen, of a gun piece lifted from the Arsenal!... He was in for a big affair a sensational case!...
What a worker!" Vagualame seemed to be speaking to himself. "You know her very well, then?" asked the puzzled innkeeper. "I should think I did!" protested the old fellow. "Why, it was I who taught her to sing!... Do you think she will be long, my little Nichoune?" "I don't fancy so! If you would like to come in and wait for her in her room, you will find it at the end of the corridor.
These last few days at Châlons I have been terrified: I believe that they suspect me, that they suspect Nichoune, that my superiors have me under supervision! Directly after the announcement of Captain Brocq's assassination appeared in the papers, all this descended on me as swiftly as a tempest. Oh, I am lost!
"You are not to make such a noise! Stay where you are! Don't stir from that corner until I return ... and, above all, you must not touch a single thing before the arrival of the police." "The police!" moaned Aunt Palmyra. "It is frightful! Oh, my poor Nichoune, however could this have happened?"
Then she added, laughing in her usual hail-fellow-well-met way, and pressing the old fellow's hand as she moved towards the door: "I don't mean to be the letter-box of Châlons any more: that's ended the last collection has been made!" Nichoune departed. Vagualame wished her a cordial "Good night"; then, locking the door, he became absorbed in his reflections.
"And," continued de Loubersac, with a smile, "as it is probable the murderer of Captain Brocq and Nichoune is none other than the individual who stole our document."... "By uniting our efforts," finished Juve, "we have every chance of discovering the one and the other." There was a pause.
You know the little singer of Châlons, called Nichoune? She made her first appearance at La Fère, and since then the creature has roved through the rowdy dancing-saloons of Picardy, of the Ardennes you must know her well, Monsieur Henri." The lieutenant interrupted him. "All this does not mean anything, Vagualame!" "Pardon!
"Well, then?" De Loubersac was staring at Vagualame with puzzled eyes. "Well, then as to that no!... I had better hold my tongue." "Speak out!" commanded de Loubersac. "No," growled Juve-Vagualame. "I order you to do so." "Well, then," conceded Juve-Vagualame, "since you must know what I think, I consider Nichoune was in no sense the mistress of Captain Brocq."
De Loubersac did not give him time for reflection. "Who, then, do you think killed Nichoune?" Juve would not for the world voice his suspicions just then. With a side-glance at the lieutenant, he remarked: "Faith, what I am inclined to think is, that the guilty person is that Aunt Palmyra." "Aunt Palmyra!" repeated de Loubersac. "Decidedly my poor Vagualame, you are stupid as an owl to-day!
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