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Point out to her that if Monsieur Boisségur signed the letters Tuesday night he was, at least, alive; and if he came or sent for the cigarettes Wednesday night, he was still alive. I shall call at the embassy this afternoon. No, it isn't advisable to go with you now. Give me your latch-key, please." Monsieur Rigolot produced the key and passed it over without a word. "And one other thing," Mr.
There is no doubt. The letters were not of a private nature. If you would care to look at copies of them?" He offered the duplicates tentatively. Mr. Grimm read them over slowly, the while Monsieur Rigolot sat nervously staring at him. They, too, seemed meaningless as bearing on the matter in hand. Finally, Mr.
It was three days after the ambassador's disappearance that Monsieur Rigolot, secretary of the French embassy and temporary chargé-d'affaires, reported the matter to Chief Campbell in the Secret Service Bureau, adding thereto a detailed statement of several singular incidents following close upon it. He told it in order, concisely and to the point, while Grimm and his chief listened.
"Monsieur Rigolot did not inform you of it because he didn't know of it himself," she replied, answering the last question first. "It came into my possession directly from the hands of Madame Boisségur she gave it to me." "Why?" Mr. Grimm was peering through the inscrutable darkness, straight into her face a white daub in the gloom, shapeless, indistinct.
It was mailed at the general post-office at half-past one o'clock this afternoon, so the canceling stamp shows, and the envelope was addressed, as the letter was written, on a typewriter." "And how," inquired Mr. Grimm, after a long pause, "how did it come into your possession?" He waited a little. "Why didn't Monsieur Rigolot report this development to me this afternoon when I was here?"
Grimm nodded, and Monsieur Rigolot resumed: "And Wednesday night, Monsieur, another strange thing happened. Monsieur Boisségur smokes many cigarettes, of a kind made especially for him in France, and shipped to him here. He keeps them in a case on his dressing-table. On Thursday morning his valet reported to me that this case of cigarettes had disappeared!" "Of course," observed Mr.
And just then Monsieur Rigolot, secretary of the embassy, thrust an inquisitive head timidly around the corner of the stairs. The crash of glass had aroused him. "What happened?" he asked breathlessly. "We don't know just yet," replied Mr. Grimm. "If the noise aroused any one else please assure them that there's nothing the matter.
Campbell turned around and moved a paper weight one inch to the left, where it belonged, while Monsieur Rigolot, disappointed at their amazing apathy, squirmed uneasily in his chair. "It would appear, then," Mr.
C'est " Monsieur Rigolot began excitedly. "I beg pardon. I believe that is correct." "You saw him about ten, you say; therefore no one except the stenographer saw him after ten o'clock?" "That is also true, as far as I know." "Any callers? Letters? Telegrams? Telephone messages?" "I made inquiries in that direction, Monsieur," was the reply.
"If your search of the house proved conclusively that he wasn't there, he did leave it, didn't he?" Monsieur Rigolot stared at him blankly for a moment, then nodded. "And there are windows, you know," Mr. Grimm went on, then: "As I understand it, Monsieur, no one except you and the stenographer saw the ambassador after ten o'clock in the morning?" "Oui, Monsieur.
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