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Updated: June 23, 2025
M. Desmalions gave a start. His excitement was manifest. If that man was telling the truth, if he was really the son of that Victor whose record the police had not yet been able to trace, then, owing to this very fact, since M. Fauville and his son were dead and Mme. Fauville, so to speak, convicted of murder and forfeiting her rights, they had arrested the final heir to Cosmo Mornington.
I ask leave to bring them to you in the course of the morning. I am in need of protection and I call for your assistance. "Permit me to be, etc. "No other designation?" asked Perenna. "No letter-heading?" "None. But there is no mistake. Inspector Vérot's declarations agree too evidently with this despairing appeal. It is clearly M. Fauville and his son who are to be murdered to-night.
And yet it was the most incredible truth that he was asking them to believe. M. Desmalions asked one last question. "You were in that passage with Sergeant Mazeroux. There were detectives outside the house. Admitting that M. Fauville knew that he was to be killed that night and at that very hour of the night, who can have killed him and who can have killed his son?
"And Mme. Fauville?" "She lived in Paris in her new house. Neither she nor her husband ever referred to the past." "How do you know? Did she write to you?" "No. Marie is a woman who does not do her duty by halves; and her sense of duty is strict to excess. She never wrote to me.
"And the marks of the teeth, those marks which were undoubtedly made by Mme. Fauville?" "I don't know. It is all incomprehensible." "You don't know either what she can have done after leaving the opera between twelve and two in the morning?" "No. She was evidently lured into a trap. But how and by whom? And why does she not say what she was doing? More mystery."
There was no one within these four walls." "There was M. Fauville." A sudden clamour of protests arose. The veil was promptly torn; and the spectacle revealed by Don Luis provoked, in addition to horror, an unforeseen outburst of incredulity and a sort of revolt against the too kindly attention which had been accorded to those explanations.
"In any case, Monsieur le Préfet," the solicitor interposed, "I must remind you that one of the clauses of the will stipulates that it shall not be read until forty-eight hours have elapsed. M. Fauville, therefore, must not be informed " The door was pushed open and a man hustled the messenger aside and rushed in. "Inspector ... Inspector Vérot?" he spluttered. "He's dead, isn't he? I was told "
Mazeroux could not get over it. "Chief, you astound me! How calm and careless you look!" "I am calm and careless, Alexandre." "But what do you mean? Doesn't the case interest you? Don't you intend to avenge Mme. Fauville and Sauverand? You are openly accused and you sit here blowing soap-bubbles!" "There's no more delightful pastime, Alexandre." "Shall I tell you what I think, Chief?
Against the border of the path, among the leaves of a little clump of rhododendrons, he saw something red, the shape of which at once struck him. He stooped. It was an apple, the fourth apple, the one whose absence from the fruit dish he had noticed. "Excellent!" he said. "Hippolyte Fauville did not eat it.
"Apart from Hippolyte Fauville, there is necessarily a criminal; and that criminal is necessarily Cosmo Mornington's heir. As I am not the man, another heir of Cosmo Mornington exists. It is he whom I accuse, Monsieur le Préfet. "There is something more than a dead man's will in the wicked business that is being enacted before us.
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