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Updated: May 16, 2025
The thing appeared to me as a dead certainty. And I found Vorenglade's address in Daubrecq's pocket-books, so... driver, Boulevard Raspail!" They went to the address given. Lupin sprang from the cab, ran up three flights of stairs. The servant said that M. Vorenglade was away and would not be back until dinner-time next evening. "And don't you know where he is?" "M. Vorenglade is in London, sir."
Prasville once more took his hat, coat and stick, went downstairs, stepped into a taxi and drove to Vorenglade's flat. Here he was told that the ex-deputy was expected home from London at six o'clock that evening. It was two o'clock in the afternoon. Prasville therefore had plenty of time to prepare his plan.
"I know that." "Very likely. But what you don't know, you silly ass, is that I have come straight from Stanislas Vorenglade's and that Stanislas Vorenglade left Paris four days ago! Oh, what a joke! They've sold you waste paper! And your forty thousand francs! What an ass! What an ass!" He walked out of the room, screaming with laughter and leaving Prasville absolutely dumbfounded.
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