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Updated: May 31, 2025
Say, a racing man had nothing on that Forette. And yet the next day, when he came to take the car away, after we'd charged the storage battery, he drove like a snail. One of my men went with him a little way, to see that everything was all right, for Mr.
But the colonel was particular about his bait, and would let none select it but himself. Consequently he had Jean Forette drive him in, telling Shag to meet him at a certain dock where they would drop down the inlet and try for "snappers," young bluefish, elusive, gamy and delicious eating. "You have not yet found a place?" asked the colonel of the chauffeur, as they rolled along.
She told me she didn't see why you wanted that done, but as you had charge of the case the house would be closed, even if they had to open it again, for they stay here until late in the fall, you know. "Yes, I know. Then you are sure Forette thinks they are all going away and that he will have to go, too?" "Oh, yes, he's all packed.
"The records show that Henri Margot, alias Jean Carnot alias Jean Forette was married to Isabel Pelubit in Paris on March 17, four years ago, and that she died under suspicious circumstances three months later, leaving her husband all of a snug little fortune she possessed. "All lies, monsieur all lies! I do not believe anything you tell me!"
She made it a point to go for a drive the next afternoon with Jean Forette in the small car, taking a maid with her on a pretense of doing some shopping. And Viola closely observed the conduct of the chauffeur. On her return, the girl could not help admitting that the Frenchman was all a careful car driver should be.
He came out of the physician's office to find Jean Forette calmly reading in his side of the car. The paper was put away at once, and with a whirr from the self-starter the motor throbbed. "It there a free public library in town, Jean?" asked the detective. "Yes, monsieur. "Take me there."
That's the best way to do, or undo, a man that I know of. Find out if he has a girl. That'll be your trick." "All right that and golf. I'm ready." And Jack Young worked to such good advantage that three days later he had a pretty complete report ready for his chief. "Jean Forette has a girl," said Jack; "and she's a little beauty, too. Mazi Rochette is her name.
He testified to having served Mr. Carwell's chauffeur with a pint of champagne which Jean Forette was seen to carry directly from the cafe to the waiting automobile. The champagne was from a bottle newly opened, and the innkeeper himself had selected a clean glass and carefully washed it before pouring in the wine. He knew Mr.
But say a person did give way to violent passion, such as I have seen him do at times when something went wrong with the big, new car, might not such a person, for a fancied wrong, take means of ending the life of a person who had angered him?" "I never liked Jean Forette," put in Miss Carwell, "and I was glad when I heard Horace was to let him go."
"Call Jean Forette," said the prosecutor, and the chauffeur, a decidedly nervous man on whom the excitement of testifying plainly told, came to the stand. He made a poor showing, and there were several whispers that ran around the courtroom, but poor Jean's rather distressing manner was improved when Mr. Stryker took him in hand to question him.
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