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Updated: June 25, 2025
I was also asked not to mention them to anybody and to hand them at three o'clock this afternoon to Florence Levasseur, with instructions to take them to the Prefect of Police at once. I was also requested to have a letter conveyed to Sergeant Mazeroux." "To Sergeant Mazeroux! That's odd." "That letter appeared to have to do with the same business. Now, I am very fond of Florence.
Don Luis left Mazeroux to his conversation with the Prefect, and, taking the bunch of keys, easily unfastened the lock and the bolt of the door and went out into the garden, in the hope of there finding some trace that should facilitate his quest. As on the day before, he saw, through the ivy, two policemen walking between one lamp-post and the next. They did not see him.
But, once on her feet, she tottered and fell fainting on the floor. While she was being seen to, Mazeroux beckoned to Don Luis and whispered: "Clear out, Chief." "Ah, so the orders are revoked? I'm free?" "Chief, take a look at the beggar who came in ten minutes ago and who's talking to the Prefect. Do you know him?"
"And if I betrayed an intention of leaving, to prevent me?" "Yes." "By every means?" "Yes." "Even by putting a bullet through my skin?" "Yes." Perenna reflected; and then, in a serious voice: "Would you have fired, Mazeroux?" The sergeant lowered his head and said faintly: "Yes, Chief."
"With good reasons to back it up!" said the Prefect, laughing. "There's no doubt about it; you can't stomach the trick of the iron curtain. Well, go ahead! It's Don Luis's own lookout; he's brought it on himself. Mazeroux, ring me up at the office as soon as the telephone is put right. And both of you meet me at the Fauvilles' house this evening. Don't forget it's the night for the fourth letter."
Just then Mazeroux rang up and asked to speak to him. He rushed to a little telephone box which his predecessor had fitted up on the first floor, in a dark recess that communicated only with his study, and switched on the electric light. "Is that you, Alexandre?" "Yes, Chief. I'm speaking from a wine shop near the house on the Boulevard Richard-Wallace." "What about our man?"
Mazeroux staggered, hesitated, and then, despite all his natural deference, unable to contain himself, exclaimed: "Monsieur le Préfet, it's not a fancy. I have worked with Don Luis. I know the man. If he tells you that something is going to happen, it's because he has his reasons." "Absurd reasons." "No, no, Monsieur le Préfet," Mazeroux pleaded, growing more and more excited.
Don Luis Perenna went with Mazeroux to the commissary's office at Passy, where Mazeroux, on Perenna's instructions, gave his name and asked to have M. Fauville's house watched during the night by two policemen who were to arrest any suspicious person trying to obtain admission. The commissary agreed to the request. Don Luis and Mazeroux next dined in the neighbourhood.
Rambouillet, Chevreuse, and Versailles received the terrifying vision of a thunderbolt tearing across them from end to end. Saint-Cloud. The Bois de Boulogne ... On the Place de la Concorde, as the motor was turning toward the Tuileries, Mazeroux objected: "Aren't you going home, Chief?" "No.
If he's tried to get out on that side, he's caught." "We've only got to knock," said Mazeroux. "Our men will find the trapdoor and let us out. If not, we will break it down." More blows echoed down the passage. Fifteen or twenty minutes after, the trapdoor gave way, and other voices now mingled with Weber's and Mazeroux's.
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