The Curious Cases of Detective Richard Duvall (All 3 Books in One Volume). Frederic Arnold Kummer
else?"
"Nothing."
"Oh! And you, monsieur, are in the habit of using snuff?"
"Yes. It is the only form in which I use tobacco. Old-fashioned, perhaps, but I belong to the older generation." He straightened himself up suddenly. "Let us proceed, gentlemen. I fear we are wasting valuable time."
Duvall nodded. "Permit me to ask you a few more questions."
"I am at your service, monsieur."
"When did you last see the box?"
"This morning, at nine o'clock. I always carry it in the right-hand pocket of my waistcoat. To insure its safety, I had it attached to a long gold chain, which was securely fastened to the inside of the pocket. I rose this morning somewhat late, having attended a banquet last night. After having my coffee and rolls in my bedroom, I went to my dressing-room to be shaved. As I did so, I paused for a moment, drew the snuff box from the pocket of my white evening waistcoat, which my valet had hung in a closet the night before, and took a pinch of snuff from it. I then replaced it in the pocket and entered the dressing-room adjoining, where Noël, my man, was waiting for me. He proceeded to shave me as usual, and I began to dress. Upon going to the closet in my bedroom to remove the box, and fasten it by means of the chain to the clasp in the pocket of the waistcoat I had just put on, I was amazed to find it gone. I at once summoned Noël—"
"Summoned him?" interrupted the detective. "Was he not with you in the room?"
"No. A few moments before—as soon, in fact, as I had completed dressing, he left the apartment to give some instructions to my chauffeur."
"What did you do then?"
"I at once rushed out into the hall, calling for Noël."
"You believed, then, that he had taken the box?"
"I could believe nothing else. No one but he had been in my rooms."
"Oh! I see. And you questioned him?"
"Yes. On reaching the hall I met one of the maids ascending the stairway. I called to her, asking if she had seen Noël. She had not. She had been in the servants' hall—talking with the chauffeur—Noël had not been there."
"What did you do then?"
"I rushed to his room, which is on the floor above, thinking that, if he had taken the box, and proposed to deny the fact, he would have gone there to secrete it."
"Would he not have been more likely to leave the house immediately since he knew you would discover your loss at once?"
"No. He would realize that to flee would be to admit his guilt. He could not have gone more than a few hundred feet. Capture would have been inevitable."
"Did you find the man in the room?"
"He was just leaving it as I came up."
"What did you do then?"
"I ordered him back into the room, and questioned him sharply. He denied all knowledge of the matter, and appeared to be deeply hurt at my suspicions."
"Did you believe him?"
"I do not know. The matter is incomprehensible. Noël has been in my service for eight years. I supposed him absolutely incorruptible—absolutely honest. He also insists that after I left the bedroom, and came into the dressing-room to be shaved, he did not leave me, nor again enter the bedroom; in which case, he could not have committed the theft."
"Is this true?"
"So far as I can remember, it is." He spoke in a slightly hesitating way, and Duvall at once noticed it. "You are, then, not absolutely sure?" he asked.
"I feel confident that Noël did not leave me, nor enter the bedroom. If I hesitated for a moment, it arose from the fact that on one or two occasions I have fallen asleep while being shaved, but this morning I am quite sure that I did not do so."
"Yet you were up late last night, and awoke feeling sleepy and tired."
"Yes." The Ambassador nodded. "That is true."
"Is there any other door to the bedroom?"
"None, except that which opens into my bath. The bathroom has no windows. It is an inside room."
"And the bedroom?"
"It has two windows, facing upon the adjoining property. There is quite thirty feet of space between the two buildings and the windows are at least twenty-five feet from the ground."
"What room is above?"
"A guest's chamber, unused and locked."
Duvall rose and began to stride up and down the room, chewing viciously upon his unlighted cigar. "After you finished questioning the man, what did you do then?"
"I searched his room thoroughly, and made him turn out the contents of his pockets, his trunk and bureau drawers."
"And you found—?"
"Nothing. That was before noon to-day. Since then, I have kept the man locked in his room, awaiting your coming. One of the other servants has remained on guard outside his door ever since."
"You did not, then, notify the police?"
"No. The matter is one that, for reasons of my own, I do not wish to become public."
"Has anything been heard from your prisoner since this morning?"
"Yes. He asked for pen and ink about one o'clock this afternoon. I went up to see him, to find out why he wanted them. He seemed deeply affected, was almost in tears, and apparently afraid to meet my gaze. He said he wished to write a note, breaking an engagement he had had for this afternoon. He usually had Wednesday afternoons off. I permitted him to write the letter."
Duvall began to show signs of deep interest on hearing this. "Where is it?" he exclaimed.
"What, monsieur?" The Ambassador evidently did not follow him.
"The letter."
"I sent it, of course."
"But you read it first?"
"Yes. 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?"
"Merely that Noël was unable to keep his appointment for that afternoon, and did not expect to see his friend again before his departure. Seltz must have been planning some trip. The letter, as I remember, was quite cool, almost unfriendly in its tone."
Duvall glanced at his watch. "This was about one o'clock you say?"
"Yes. The matter has no significance. We are wasting our time discussing it."
"On the contrary, monsieur, I fear it may have had the greatest significance. That letter should never have been delivered. Even now, it may be too late to prevent the consequences. Be so good, monsieur, as to conduct me to this man Noël's room at once." He turned to Dufrenne. "You will accompany us, of course, Monsieur Dufrenne," he said, then followed the Ambassador toward the hall.
In a few moments they reached the third floor of the house, and passed along a short hall which gave entrance to a rear extension of the building, in which the servants' quarters were located. At the entrance of the hall, a maid was seated upon a stool, reading a book. She rose as the others approached, and stood respectfully aside.
"Has anything been heard from Noël?" the Ambassador asked. "Has he asked for anything?"
"Nothing, monsieur. He has been quiet ever since six o'clock, when I took him his supper."
"What was he doing when you entered?"
"Writing, monsieur. He was sitting at the table, with a pen in his hand, and he