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Updated: June 24, 2025
A man who had received the force of this shower could not appear in the street before Caffie's door without attracting the attention of the passers-by, and it was important for him that he should not attract the attention of any one. At length the rain ceased, and at twenty minutes of five he reached his home. There remained fifteen or twenty minutes of daylight, which was more than he needed.
He had never slept so well, so tranquilly, as since Caffie's death, which relieved him from all the cares that in these last months had tormented and broken his sleep so much. At the end, Brigard concluded the discussion on saying that nothing better proved the power of the human conscience than this difference between man and beast.
"But cannot your brother explain how he lost this button at Caffie's?" "Certainly, and in the most natural way. He went to see Caffie, to ask him for a letter of recommendation, saying that he had been his clerk for several years. Caffie gave it to him, and then, in the course of conversation, Caffie spoke of a bundle of papers that he could not find.
She added that this lady was the proprietor of the house, and that she lived in the second wing of the building, on the second story on the court, just opposite to Caffie's office. This lady, who is called Madame Dammauville, widow of a lawyer, is afflicted with paralysis, and I believe has not left her room for a year.
Caffie's wound was made by a hand skilled in killing, and this learned hand was his, more even than that of a murderer. Every one knew that his position at that moment was desperate, financially speaking; and, suddenly, he paid his debts. Who would believe the Monte Carlo story? One word, one little hint, from this Madame Dammauville and he was lost, without defence, without possible struggles.
While Saniel spoke, the commissioner threw a glance about the room the glance of the police, which takes in everything. "The safe is open," he said. "The affair becomes clear; the assassination was followed by theft." There was a door opposite to the entrance, which the commissioner opened; it was that of Caffie's bedroom.
On returning to his room Saniel was very much cast down, and without lighting a candle, he threw himself on the divan, where he remained prostrated. The frightful part of the affair was the rapidity with which he condemned this poor woman to death, and without hesitation executed her. To save himself she must die; she should die. This time the idea did not turn and deviate as in Caffie's case.
He would not commit the insane folly of wishing to see and know, as in Caffie's case; he would know the result soon enough, too soon. Rising, he lighted a candle, and paced up and down his apartment like a caged animal. Then it occurred to him that those underneath would hear his steps; doubtless they would remark this agitated march, would be surprised, and would ask an explanation.
That which he arranged so laboriously had succeeded according to his wish, and the only imprudence that he had committed, in a moment of aberration, seemed not to have been observed; no one had noticed his presence in the cafe opposite Caffie's house, and no one was astonished at his pertinacity in remaining there at an hour so unusual.
"But cannot your brother explain how he lost this button at Caffie's?" "Certainly, and in the most natural way. He went to see Caffie, to ask him for a letter of recommendation, saying that he had been his clerk for several years. Caffie gave it to him, and then, in the course of conversation, Caffie spoke of a bundle of papers that he could not find.
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