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Updated: June 23, 2025
So Edmond Fauville " muttered the Prefect, without finishing his sentence. In two minutes the whole situation had changed. In the eyes of the magistrates, Mme. Fauville was no longer the widow and mother who must on no account be attacked. She had suddenly become a woman whom circumstances compelled them to cross-examine.
"I took the precaution last year," Hippolyte Fauville explained. "I used to make my electrical experiments in this room and was afraid of being spied upon, so I closed the aperture opening on the roof." And he added in a low voice: "They have been prowling around me for a long time." The two men went downstairs again. Fauville looked at his watch.
Which were the teeth of the tiger, the teeth of the wild beast: these, or the other woman's? It was an absurd supposition, because the marks had been recognized as made by Marie Fauville. But was the absurdity of a supposition a sufficient reason for discarding it?
"Mazeroux," said M. Desmalions, "try them on that door." Mazeroux did so. The door opened. "Yes," said Mme. Fauville. "I remember now, my husband gave them to me. They were duplicates of his own keys " The words were uttered in the most natural tone and as though the speaker did not even suspect the terrible charge that was forming against her.
But Gaston Sauverand, the son of Victor Sauverand and consequently the heir of Cosmo Mornington Gaston Sauverand, the man with the ebony walking-stick and the murderer of Chief Inspector Ancenis was he not just as guilty as Marie Fauville, incriminated with her by the mysterious letters, incriminated by the very revelation of the husband whom they had killed?
And this friend will certainly give us the proofs we want." Mazeroux was becoming excited. "Proofs? Why, we don't need them! They're here. M. Fauville himself supplies them: 'The end is at hand. I can see it in her eyes. 'Her' refers to his wife, to Marie Fauville, and the husband's evidence confirms all that we knew against her. What do you say, Chief?"
The second is dead: I refer to M. Fauville. We will not speak of him. The third is Silvestre, the manservant. I should like to say a few words to him. I shall not take long." Silvestre's examination, in fact, was soon over. He was able to prove that, pending the return of Mme.
During the last three days, since the double suicide, or, rather, the double murder of Marie Fauville and her cousin Gaston Sauverand, there hasn't been a newspaper but has said this kind of thing: 'And, now that M. Fauville, his son, his wife, and his cousin Gaston Sauverand are dead, there's nothing standing between Don Luis Perenna and the Mornington inheritance!
"At this moment it is certain that his plan was concerted down to the smallest detail. Knowing that Sauverand was in love with his wife, watching Sauverand's movements, he must obviously have noticed that his detested rival used to pass under the windows of the house every Wednesday and that Marie Fauville would go to her window.
One problem remained to be solved: who was the unknown correspondent to whom Hippolyte Fauville had bequeathed the task of avenging his murder, and who, instead of simply handing over the letters to the police, was exercising his ingenuity to deliver them by means of the most Machiavellian contrivances? Was it to his interest also to remain in the background?
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