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Updated: June 5, 2025
The Duke and Guerchard watched him in silence. In carrying out Victoire, the inspector had left the door of the drawing-room open. After he had watched M. Formery reflect for two minutes, Guerchard faded to use an expressive Americanism through it. The Duke felt in the breast-pocket of his coat, murmured softly, "My cigarettes," and followed him.
"Be sure you ask them to send Guerchard," said the Duke. "Guerchard?" said the inspector doubtfully. "M. Formery, the examining magistrate, does not get on very well with Guerchard." "What sort of a man is M. Formery? Is he capable?" said the Duke. "Oh, yes yes. He's very capable," said the inspector quickly. "But he doesn't have very good luck."
Having made this thorough examination of the house, M. Formery went out into the garden and set about examining that.
But I think that even he is convinced that Mademoiselle Kritchnoff is not a friend of Arsene Lupin." "Oh, well, perhaps she isn't. But there's no telling," said Guerchard slowly. "Arsene Lupin?" cried the Duke. "Surely you never thought that Mademoiselle Kritchnoff had anything to do with Arsene Lupin?" "I never thought so," said M. Formery.
"But Dieusy has been hunting the neighbourhood for some one who saw the burglars loading their conveyance, or saw it waiting to be loaded, for the last hour." "Good," said M. Formery. "We are getting on." M. Formery was silent. Guerchard and the Duke sat down and lighted cigarettes. "You found plenty of traces," said M. Formery, waving his hand towards the window.
"Why, there is the letter from Lupin which my future father-in-law received last night; its arrival was followed by the theft of his two swiftest motor-cars; and then, these signatures on the wall here," said the Duke in some surprise at the question. "Lupin! Lupin! Everybody has Lupin on the brain!" said M. Formery impatiently. "I'm sick of hearing his name.
"The drawing-room door is locked. We ought to find M. Formery hammering on it." And he smiled as if he found the thought pleasing. They went back up the stairs, through the opening, into the drawing-room of M. Gournay-Martin's house. Sure enough, from the other side of the locked door came the excited voice of M. Formery, crying: "Guerchard! Guerchard! What are you doing? Let me in!
M. Formery and the inspector came hurrying down the stairs behind him, and watched his emotion with astonished and wondering eyes. "Here!" bellowed the millionaire. "A telegram! A telegram from the scoundrel himself! Listen! Just listen:" "A thousand apologies for not having been able to keep my promise about the coronet. Had an appointment at the Acacias.
That rascal would certainly have put his threat into execution, M. Formery," said the inspector. "Who's in charge of the house?" said M. Formery. "The concierge, his wife, and a housekeeper a woman named Victoire," said the inspector. "I'll see to the concierge and his wife presently. I've sent one of your men round for their dossier. When I get it I'll question them.
The face of the millionaire brightened a little. "And, after all, you have the consolation, that the burglars did not get hold of the gem of your collection. They have not stolen the coronet of the Princesse de Lamballe," said M. Formery. "No," said the Duke. "They have not touched this safe. It is unopened." "What has that got to do with it?" growled the millionaire quickly. "That safe is empty."
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