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Updated: July 10, 2025
Our journalist was not anxious as to the result of his interview; it was not his first experience of the kind, and this time his task was rendered especially easy, owing to the letter of introduction which M. Dupont had given him, in order that he might have a talk with M. de Naarboveck, who lived in a sumptuous mansion in the rue Fabert.
His conviction that de Naarboveck and Fantômas had relations of some sort dated from the night of his own arrest as Vagualame in the house of de Naarboveck. He had gone further than that. "Yes," he had said to himself: "de Naarboveck must be a manifestation of Fantômas!" Corporal Vinson's revelations regarding the den in the rue Monge had but strengthened Juve's impression.
"Ah, Baron, how can I ever express my gratitude?" De Naarboveck smiled.... He gazed at the journalist. There was something in the situation he found amusing.... Following the baron's directions, the taxi went up the rue Lapic, and reached the heights of Montmartre.
"This is a surprise!" Mademoiselle de Naarboveck stopped. She smiled up at Henri de Loubersac. "Do you know, I saw in this glass that you were following us," she said, pointing to a mirror placed at an angle in a confectioner's shop at the corner of rue Biot.
This grotesque visage was shaded by a flowered veil. "What a horrid old creature!" thought Wilhelmine, as she listened with scarcely concealed distaste to the woman's voluble praises of her son's qualities.... According to her, he was a marvel of marvels. Monsieur de Naarboveck remained in the library pacing up and down, smoking an expensive cigar. Wilhelmine did not return.
Mademoiselle de Naarboveck, with the ease of a well-bred woman, offered the journalist a cup of boiling hot coffee. Mademoiselle Berthe suggested sugar. Monsieur de Naarboveck, as if he had suddenly remembered something, said to him: "But you bear a name which recalls many things, Monsieur Jérôme Fandor!
There were people who believed in the death of Lady Beltham; they were in the majority: among these was Wilhelmine de Naarboveck. Why did she come to pray at Lady Beltham's tomb and bring offerings of fragrant flowers? A mere handful of people knew Lady Beltham was not dead; knew that another woman had been interred in her stead.
Fandor failed to find either piece of furniture or picture he could recognise: everything in the place was new to him. De Naarboveck had slipped off his gown at once. He was in elegant evening dress. Fandor also threw off the advocate's gown. He wore the black trousers de Naarboveck had brought him, but was in his shirt sleeves. The Vinson uniform had been left in the cell.
De Naarboveck laughed. "We leave together what more natural?" "It is your right," grumbled the man: "Have you finished your interrogation of the accused Fandor?" As he asked this pertinent question, the jailor made a movement to enter the prison and make sure that the prisoner's cell was locked. De Naarboveck caught his arm.
De Naarboveck switched on a light, and Fandor saw that he and his rescuer were in a studio of vast proportions, well furnished. Thick curtains hung before a large glass bay: it was a lofty room with very slightly sloping walls. Two or three rooms must have been thrown into one, for several thick supporting columns of iron crossed the middle of the studio.
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