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Updated: June 5, 2025
Without abandoning his careless attitude, Don Luis beckoned to Mazeroux. "Sergeant, just look under that sofa between the windows." Don Luis was serious. Mazeroux instinctively obeyed. Under the sofa was a portmanteau. "Sergeant, in ten minutes, when I have told my servants to go to bed, carry the portmanteau to 143 bis Rue de Rivoli, where I have taken a small flat under the name of M. Lecocq."
"Very well, then," said Speed, "that is agreed; we will look you up in a week from now." "I should be pained," said Lecocq, "to put you to that trouble. As soon as I get the report from my men I will communicate with you and let you know the result. In a few days I shall give you the name of the assassin."
The result is a verdict of acquittal and all the work of the police goes for naught. Unfortunately for the public at large, the Lecocq type of detective does not exist outside the pages of fiction.
With a voice in which the character had been trained away as surely as the charity from the opinions of the social élite, this descendant of Lecocq accosted his patron, and with business-like brevity indicated that he was already familiar with the situation as outlined by Robert, and if Mr. Raikes would consent to reply to a few questions it would facilitate matters.
For the last two years I have told you almost all my concerns. I have sent you to travel in our goods. In short, I have nothing on my conscience as regards you. But you you have a soft place, and you have never breathed a word of it." Joseph Lebas blushed. "Ah, ha!" cried Guillaume, "so you thought you could deceive an old fox like me? When you knew that I had scented the Lecocq bankruptcy?"
"I am like the people of the second Chicago, generally more intent on pleasure than business; but, nevertheless, I have a piece of business for you." "The second Chicago?" asked Lecocq. "And where is that, pray?" "Why, Paris, of course," said Speed. Lecocq laughed. "You are incorrigible, you Chicagoans. And what is the piece of business?" "It is the old thing, monsieur. A mystery to be unravelled.
Lecocq and Sherlock Holmes would be futile. But through shrewd questioning of the servants in the house he ascertains that the husband was taken violently ill after supper and that no guests were present at the meal. An analysis of the sediment in the husband's coffee cup establishes the presence of arsenic.
But one thing looms up above it all, and that is that Chicago is ahead of the world in everything in detection as well as in fires." "My dear sir," cried Lecocq, "it is not true. I will show you in a moment " "You won't show me," said Speed, and he straightway disappeared. "Come, Ferris," said Brenton, "after all, you are the only friend I seem to have; come with me."
Buckle's Introduction to the History of Civilization, Hallam's Middle Ages, Wealth of Nations, Wilhelm Meister, Poems of Heinrich Heine, several volumes of Spencer and Huxley, Slaves of Paris, Lecocq, the Detective, File No. 118, The Lerouge Case, The Scotland Yard Detective, Carlyle's French Revolution, Taxidermitology, Renan's Life of Jesus, Pole on Whist, Hoyle, Tom Sawyer, Past and Present, Pickwick Papers, Herodotus, an unbroken shelf of Walter Scott, A Pair of Blue Eyes, Cousin Pons, Drainage, Pendennis, Small Fruit Culture.
It was not so much a conspiracy or a shift against the vigilance of those in authority, or fear of compromising one's self before a chance acquaintance of the family, but rather a play, of its own kind, at mysteriousness and disguise a play tracing its beginning from those times when the young people were borne away by Gustave Aimard, Mayne Reid, and the detective Lecocq.
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