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Updated: July 10, 2025
"A man can only do what he can!" "Ah!" murmured Lecoq in a low tone, perfectly audible, however, "why is not old Tirauclair here?" "What could he do more than we have done?" retorted Gevrol, directing a furious glance at his subordinate. Lecoq bowed his head and was silent, inwardly delighted at having wounded his chief. "Who is old Tirauclair?" asked M. Daburon.
"Good morning, my old Absinthe. So you think enough down there of poor Papa Tirauclair to come and see him?" "We need your advice, Monsieur Tabaret." "Ah, ah!" "We have just been as completely outwitted as if we were babies in long clothes." "What! was your man such a very cunning fellow?" Lecoq heaved a sigh.
"M. Tabaret," said the magistrate, "your investigation is admirable; and I am persuaded your inferences are correct." "Ah!" cried Lecoq, "is he not colossal, my old Tirauclair?" "Pyramidal!" cried Gevrol ironically.
They would perhaps shake hands with me less warmly did they know that Tirauclair and Tabaret were one and the same." Insensibly the crime became again the subject of conversation. It was agreed, that, the first thing in the morning, M. Tabaret should install himself at Bougival. He boasted that in eight days he should examine all the people round about.
And to think that he had been proud of his exploits, that he had boasted of his cunning, that he had plumed himself on his keenness of scent, that he had been flattered by that ridiculous sobriquet, "Tirauclair." Old fool! What could he hope to gain from that bloodhound calling?
For this was the name by which he was most generally known: a sobriquet derived from a phrase which was always on his lips. He was constantly saying: "Il faut que cela se tire au clair: That must be brought to light." Hence, the not altogether inappropriate appellation of "Pere Tirauclair," or "Father Bring-to-Light."
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