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Updated: June 24, 2025
His fault had been in not foreseeing, the day after Caffie's death, that circumstances might arise sooner or later which would force it upon him. At that moment it did not present the same dangers as now; but parting from the idea that he had not been seen by any one, that he could not have been seen, he had rejoiced in the security that this conviction gave him, and quietly become benumbed.
After having questioned and cross-questioned the concierge without being able to make her say more, the commissioner dismissed her, and leaving Saniel at his work, he passed into Caffie's office, where he remained a long time. When he returned he brought a small note-book that he consulted.
Two little rills of blood, already thickened, starting from Caffie's chair, and running across the tiled floor, which sloped a little toward the side of the staircase, joined in the stain which caused the discovery of the crime. The commissioner and Saniel took care not to step in it. "The unfortunate man has had his throat cut," Saniel said. "Death must have occurred two or three hours ago.
She received me kindly, and after having made me sit down in front of her, she told me that hearing from her concierge that I was exerting myself in my brother's behalf, she had something to tell me which would demonstrate that Caffie's assassin was not the man whom the law had arrested and detained.
After Caffie's death this tranquil and refreshing sleep continued the same; but suddenly, after Madame Dammauville's death, it became broken. At first it did not bother him. He did not sleep, so much the better! He would work more. But one can no more work all the time than one can live without eating.
It was his feverish curiosity that made him admit that Caffie's death would be discovered during the evening. In reality, it might easily remain undiscovered until the next day. But he could not stay in the cafe until the next day, nor even until midnight. Perhaps he had remained there too long already.
Then the idea, the vision that had come to him two hours before, came back to him, clear and complete at nightfall, that is, at the moment when the concierge was in the second wing of the building, he mounted to Caffie's apartment without being seen, and with this knife he cut his throat.
When I arrived, the old woman took both of my hands, and told me that she would conduct me immediately to a lady who saw Caffie's assassin." "Saw him!" exclaimed Saniel, struck by a blow that shook him from head to foot. "She saw him perfectly, as I tell you.
Already he had passed too much time before Caffie's door, and when one was of his build, above the medium height, with a physiognomy and appearance unlike others, one should avoid attracting attention.
He started to go upstairs, accompanied by the concierge, the locksmith, and one of the policemen; Saniel wished to follow them, but the other policeman barred the way. "Pardon, Monsieur Commissioner," Saniel said. "What do you wish, sir?" "I am Monsieur Caffie's physician." "Your name?" "Doctor Saniel." "Let the doctor pass," the commissioner said, "but alone.
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