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Updated: June 14, 2025
As the doctor entered the room, the detective gave a quick nod toward Seltz. "My man," he remarked, in a low tone. "He seems to be rather bad, this morning;" then aloud, "Oscar, this is Doctor Hartmann." Seltz bowed, then stood uncomfortably, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as the doctor bent upon him a searching glance.
Presently he rose and placed the candle on the table beside the pin. "This was what your servant was killed with, Monsieur de Grissac," he said, as he indicated the scarf pin with his finger. "It was thrust violently into the spine, at the base of the brain. Only a tiny blood spot remains to tell the tale. This fellow Seltz is a shrewd customer."
It was addressed to a man named Seltz, Oscar Seltz, if I recollect correctly, at a barber shop in Piccadilly Circus, which, as you know, is close by. This fellow Seltz was a friend of Noël's. I have several times heard him speak of him. They were accustomed to spend their afternoons off together, I understand." "And the note?" asked Duvall, impatiently. "What did it say?"
There was nothing to connect her with Duvall. He did not know that it was she who had opened the door and admitted Seltz to his house earlier in the day he thought that Duvall had done this himself. Grace's manner, her conduct during the ride in the cab from the Minister's house, had shown him nothing. Still, he felt that she would bear watching and made his plans accordingly.
As they stood there thus, facing each other in grave uncertainty, Duvall heard the sound of a vehicle being driven up the graveled road. He glanced toward the glass entrance door and saw a cab approaching the house, in which sat Seltz. He turned to Grace, and spoke in a voice so low as to be scarcely audible. "Open the door at once before the man can ring. Pretend to be a maid.
Was Seltz such a man? There was no answer to this question the fleeting glimpses which Duvall had secured of his face, through the barber-shop window, had told him little or nothing of the man's character. One fact, however, presently forced itself upon the detective's mind. If Seltz had left the shop for Brussels that night, according to his original intention, he must be somewhere on the boat.
"Appetite good?" "Yes." "Sleep well?" "Yes pretty well." "Have you had any shock, recently. Has anything happened to make you nervous, or excitable?" Seltz glanced nervously from Duvall to the doctor and back again. What, he wondered, was the purpose of this examination? Was Dr. Hartmann trying to lead him into damaging admissions concerning the method he had employed to secure the snuff box?
No doubt he was operating in the interests of someone else some third person to whom the box is of great value, and who has agreed to pay a large sum for it on delivery. You saw the fellow who bought the powder hand Seltz money how much you could not tell.
The newcomer proved to be Lablanche, of the Prefect's office, whom Dufrenne had met earlier in the day. He bowed to Duvall, who knew him slightly, then glanced at the sleeping figure on the bed. "You have been successful, monsieur?" he inquired eagerly. Duvall nodded. "This fellow" he indicated Seltz "must be taken to London as soon as he is in condition to travel.
I am giving you these brief respites, at first, because I have not the least wish to drive you mad all I ask is the snuff box which you took from my messenger Seltz. Give it up, and you can go at your convenience. But I must have it even if I am obliged to drive you to the limit. I advise you to save yourself much suffering, and give it to me now."
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