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Updated: June 16, 2025
When he saw Vagualame and Bobinette enter the library he exclaimed, in thought: "I have them!... I know the house! I am going to arrest Fantômas and his accomplice!" Cool as a cucumber now that the decisive, ardently-longed-for moment was at hand, Juve repeated his instructions: he did not mean to leave anything to chance.
Of all the witnesses, he alone could give precise details which would confirm or nullify Fandor's statements. Juve had given a rapid sketch of Fandor's adventurous career, but had carefully omitted to mention that Fandor's real name was Charles Rambert. His defence of his friend was a eulogy.
Juve had taken off his collar and tie and put on an old jacket, had set a great bowl of bread and milk in front of Charles Rambert, and was leisurely enjoying his own breakfast. "I didn't want to answer any questions just now," he said, "because I hate talking in cabs where I have to sit by a man's side, and can't see him or hear half he says.
You will have plenty of time afterward to dress for the reception.... Have you a Court costume?" Juve had overlooked that item. "No, I haven't," he replied. "Is it indispensable?" "It is, but don't worry, Madame Heberlauf will take charge of that. She will be able to find you the necessary garments."
Lady Beltham would not have thought very much about it, if it had not occurred to the editor of La Capitale to interview detective Juve about it, the famous Inspector of the Criminal Investigation Department, you know, who has brought so many notorious criminals to justice.
Far from being angry, Juve was rather flattered. "I am amazed by what you have just told me, my boy," he said with a smile. "In the first place your reasoning is not at all bad. Of course it is obvious that I cannot suspect myself of being Fantômas, but I quite admit that if I were in your place I might make the supposition, wild as it may seem.
The interview between the Queen and the woman she deemed her mortal enemy took place about eleven o'clock, two days after the famous ball in the midst of which the detective Juve had so unfortunately been mistaken for Fantômas, and thrown into a gloomy dungeon where he had since been kept in solitary confinement.
It was only at seven in the morning that the suburbs of Paris showed through an uncertain fog. Saint Denis, the fortifications, and then the train slowed up and stopped under the great glass dome of the Gare du Nord. Juve, waking with a start, hastily sprang out and made his way to the private car in the hope of seeing Lady Beltham.
A sudden thought struck him: "The delay accorded me by M. Annion expires to-day, and the arrest of the false Frederick-Christian is about due. I don't suppose Fandor has taken any steps, but I'd better find out what is happening." Juve consulted his watch: "Half-past seven, I can call on the Minister of the Interior." He sprang into a taxi and cried: "Number eleven, Rue des Saussaies!"
"In three minutes." Juve sat for a few minutes deep in thought. Then in a changed voice, a solemn voice with a sharp note in it, he said: "You know about Captain Brocq's sudden death, of course?... Let me tell you that I have discovered it was an assassination. It's this affair I am giving all my attention to." When there was mention of the Brocq affair, Fandor started.
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