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"I let him go then, but I got him a week later in a fair fight, man to man. They gave him ten years." "And discharged you from the force?" "Yes. That is, in view of my past services, they allowed me to resign." Coquenil spoke bitterly. "Outrageous! Unbelievable!" muttered Pougeot. "No doubt you were technically in the wrong, but it was a slight offense, and, after all, you got your man.
"Don't move these things," directed M. Pougeot. "It's possible some one will call for them, and if anyone should call, why that's Gibelin's affair. Now we'll see these Americans."
"Gibelin heard you speak of the ring to Pougeot that night in the automobile." "Ah! And how did you know where the girl was?" "Guessed it partly and had Pougeot followed." "And she's coming here?" The baron nodded. "She ought to be here shortly." Then with a quick, cruel smile: "I suppose you know why I want her?" "I'm afraid I do," said Coquenil. "Suppose we come in here," suggested the other.
"Will you never learn your business?" stormed Pougeot. "Does Gibelin know this?" "Yes, sir, we just told him." "Send Joseph here quick." And to the waiter when he appeared: "Tell the woman in the cloakroom to let this young man have the things. Don't let him see that you are suspicious, but take a good look at him." "Yes, sir. And then?" "And then nothing. Leave him to Gibelin."
In the intervals of these formalities the officials discussed the case with a wide variance in opinions and conclusions. The chief of police and M. Pougeot were strong for the theory of murder, while M. Hauteville leaned toward suicide. The doctor was undecided. "But the shot was fired at the closest possible range," insisted the judge; "the pistol was not a foot from the man's head.
"Ah, I thought so!" he muttered, as he recognized Papa Tignol at one of the tables on the terrace. And approaching the old man, he said in a low tone: "I want you." Tignol looked up quickly from his glass, and his face lighted. "Eh, M. Paul again!" "I must see M. Pougeot," continued the detective. "It's important. Go to his office. If he isn't there, go to his house.
He was sure of this because one of the doors to the banquet room was just opposite the door of Number Four, and he had stood there listening to a Fourth-of-July speaker who was discussing the relations between France and America. Joseph, being something of a politician, was greatly interested in this. "Then this banquet-room door was open?" questioned Pougeot.
Do you think Rio Janeiro offered me a hundred thousand francs a year just for my beautiful eyes?" "You're a great detective." "A great detective repudiated by his own city. That's another point: why should the police department discharge me two years ago and recommend me now to a foreign city? Don't you see the same hand behind it all?" M. Pougeot stroked his gray mustache in puzzled meditation.
"You think I resigned from the police force two years ago, don't you?" "Of course." "Everyone thinks so. Well, it isn't true. I didn't resign; I was discharged." M. Pougeot stared in bewilderment, as if words failed him, and finally he repeated weakly: "Discharged! Paul Coquenil discharged!"
"For a little ride, for a little change," sighed M. Paul. "Come, come," urged Pougeot, "you are giving way too much. Now listen to me."
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