United States or Réunion ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
It was not Papa Tignol, however, who was to furnish this information, but the discomfited Gibelin whose presence in the outer office was at this moment announced by the judge's clerk. "Ask him to come in," said Hauteville, and a moment later Coquenil's fat, red-haired rival entered with a smile that made his short mustache fairly bristle in triumph.
"For half an hour we were in that room, Gibelin and I, and we never found those holes." "They were covered by the sofa hangings." "I know, we shook those hangings, we pressed against them, we did everything but look behind them. See here, did you look behind them?" "No, but I saw something on the floor that gave me an idea." "Ah, what was that?" "Some yellowish dust. I picked up a little of it.
In the field of his jurisdiction a commissary of police is supreme, taking precedence even over headquarters men." So Gibelin could only withdraw, muttering his resentment, while Pougeot proceeded with his duties.
And it certainly was strange that this candle-selling girl with the dreams and the purplish eyes had appeared again as the suspected American's sweetheart! He had heard this from Papa Tignol, and how Alice had stood ready to brave everything for her lover when Gibelin marched him off to prison. Poor Gibelin! So Coquenil's thoughts ran along as he neared the Place de l'Etoile.
A moment later Coquenil entered and all rose with cordial greetings, that is, all except Gibelin, whose curt nod and suspicious glances showed that he found anything but satisfaction in the presence of this formidable rival. "My dear Coquenil!" said Simon warmly. "This is like the old days! If you were only with us now what a nut there would be for you to crack!"
"Before I go in, Lucien, you'd better speak to Gibelin," whispered M. Paul. "It's a little delicate. He's a good detective, but he likes the old-school methods, and he and I never got on very well. He has been sent to take charge of the case, so be tactful with him." "He can't object," answered Pougeot. "After all, I'm the commissary of this quarter, and if I need your services "
"Burned?" cried the others. "Yes," said Gibelin, "that's what Kittredge went upstairs for, to burn the photograph and a lot of letters her letters, probably. The fireplace was full of fresh ashes. Rose says it was clean before he went up, so I picked out the best fragments here they are."
"But I want you on the case," insisted the commissary. "I'll be on the case, all right." "I'll telephone headquarters at once about this," insisted Pougeot. "When shall I see you again?" Coquenil eyed his friend mysteriously. "I think you'll see me before the night is over. Now get to work, and," he smiled mockingly, "give M. Gibelin the assurance of my distinguished consideration."
"Why," smiled Coquenil, "if he thought he could handle it better than I could, I I think I'd let him try." Then there was another silence, broken presently by Gibelin. "Do you imagine the préfet de police is going to stand being pulled out of bed at three in the morning just because Paul Coquenil wants something? Well, I guess not." "No? What do you think he'll do?" asked Coquenil. "Do?
He also began notes of questions that he wished to ask Kittredge, and was deep in these when the clerk entered to inform him that Coquenil and Gibelin had returned. "Let them come in at once," directed Hauteville, and presently the two detectives were again before him. "Well?" he inquired with a quick glance.
Word Of The Day