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Updated: August 17, 2024
He seemed to be hesitating as to whether he would answer at all, but finally he stopped abruptly and faced his friend. "If I were talking to anybody but you, M. Fuselier, I would either not answer at all, or I would give an answer that was no answer! But as it is , well, in my opinion, the Langrune case is only just beginning, and nothing certain is known at all."
"I don't know what you mean," Juve said deprecatingly. "If you refer to the Beltham and Langrune cases, you must admit that your congratulations are not deserved. I have achieved no definite result in either of those affairs." M. Fuselier also dropped into a comfortable chair. He lighted a cigarette. "You have found out nothing fresh about that mysterious murder of Lord Beltham?" "Nothing.
"Quite so," said M. Fuselier. "There is nothing particularly remarkable in finding a map, or a piece of a map, showing a district, in the district itself." "Those are M. de Presles' very words to me," said Juve with a smile.
Gurn was unprepared for the point-blank question, and made a gesture of doubt. M. Fuselier, probably anticipating a sensation, was just on the point of ordering Dollon to be called, when he was interrupted by a discreet tap on the door. His clerk went to answer it, and saw a gendarme standing at the door.
Juve passed his hand through his hair, a characteristic trick when his mind was working. "I can imagine only one answer to that question, M. Fuselier. But you have inspected the scene of the crime: tell me first, where do you think the rascal was hidden?" "Oh, I can answer that definitely.
"Gentlemen, the fragment of map which was picked up in the field was left in the custody of the steward Dollon. That unfortunate man was summoned to Paris by M. Germain Fuselier.
In his office at the Law Courts, M. Fuselier was having a private interview with Juve, and listening with much interest to what the clever detective inspector was saying to him. "I tell you again, sir, I attach great importance to the finding of this ordnance map in Gurn's rooms." "Yes?" said M. Fuselier, with a touch of scepticism. "And I will tell you why," Juve went on.
But he must have been ignorant of where she had placed the portfolio; and he waited for her to ask her and she told him!" "That's a pretty tall yarn!" M. Fuselier protested. "What on earth do you base it all upon? The Princess would never have shown the man the drawer where the money was taken from!" "Yes, she did!" said Juve.
The clerk understood, and Gurn was brought in between two municipal guards, and was followed by the young licentiate in law, Maître Roger de Seras, who represented his leader at most of these preliminary examinations. As Gurn came in, with the light from the window falling full on his face, M. Fuselier gave a curt order. "Muller, turn round and look at this man!"
These reflections somewhat comforted the restless man, but he knew that the most difficult part of his task was still before him: the difficulty of simulating astonishment and distress when he should get back to the prison presently and be told by his fellow-warders of the prisoner's escape, and the difficulty of answering in a natural manner to the close interrogation to which he would be subjected by the governor and the police, and possibly even M. Fuselier, who would be in a fine rage when he learned that his captive had escaped him.
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