30 Suspense and Thriller Masterpieces. Гилберт Кит Честертон

30 Suspense and Thriller Masterpieces - Гилберт Кит Честертон


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friends only 318 visiting cards instead of 384, last year's number. It was most annoying. He was engaged in recounting his cards when a clerk announced the visit of detective Juve.

      "Send him in at once."

      In a few moments Juve entered.

      Juve had not changed. In spite of his forty-odd years, he was still young looking, active, persevering and daring.

      For some time past he had been left very much to his own devices in his tracking of the elusive Fantômas, and he was rarely called in to assist in the pursuit of other criminals. Therefore he realized that it was an affair of the very first importance which called for his presence in M. Vicart's office.

      The detective found M. Vicart seated at his desk in the badly lighted room.

      "My dear Juve, you are probably surprised at being sent for to-day."

      "A little … yes."

      "Well, you probably know that the King of Hesse-Weimar, Frederick-Christian II, has been staying incognito in Paris?"

      "Now, Christian II has, or rather had, a mistress, Susy d'Orsel, a demi-mondaine. Were you aware of that?"

      "No, what of it?"

      "This woman has been murdered … or rather … has not been murdered … you understand, Juve, has not been murdered."

      "Has not been murdered, very well!"

      "Now, this woman who has not been murdered threw herself out of the window last night at three o'clock; in a word, she committed suicide, at the precise moment when Frederick-Christian was taking supper with her … you grasp my meaning?"

      "No, I don't. What are you trying to get at?"

      "Why, it's as clear as day, Juve … the scandal! especially as the local magistrate had the stupidity to arrest the King."

      "The King has been arrested … I don't understand! Then it wasn't suicide?"

      "That is what must be established."

      "And I am to take charge of the investigation?"

      "I put it in your hands."

      When M. Vicart had explained the circumstances of the case, Juve summed up:

      "In a word, Frederick-Christian II went to see his mistress last night, she threw herself out of the window, the King was arrested for murder; he put in a denial, claiming that a third person was present, this third person escaped, an inadmissible hypothesis, since nobody saw him and the door to the servant's staircase was locked … this morning the King was set at liberty, and we have now to find out whether a crime was really committed or whether it was a case of suicide… . Is that it?"

      "That is it! But you're going ahead pretty fast. You don't realize, Juve, the seriousness of the supposition you formulate so freely… . You must know whether it's murder or suicide! Of course! Of course!… but you are too precise… . A King a murderer … that isn't possible. There would be terrible diplomatic complications… . It's a case of suicide… . Susy d'Orsel committed suicide beyond a doubt."

      Juve smiled slightly.

      "That has to be proved, hasn't it?"

      "Certainly it must be proved. The accident happened at number 247 Rue de Monceau. Go there, question the concièrge … the only witness… . In a word, bring us the proof of suicide in written form. We can then send a report to the press and stifle the threatened scandal."

      Juve rose.

      "I will begin an immediate investigation," he replied, smiling, "and M. Vicart, you may depend upon me to use all means in my power to clear up the affair … entirely and impartially."

      When Juve had gone, M. Vicart realized a sense of extreme uneasiness.

      "Impartially!… the deuce!"

      Hurriedly he left his office and made his way through the halls to his chief, M. Annion. His first care must be to cover his own responsibility in the matter.

      M. Annion, cold and impassive, listened to his recital in silence and then broke out:

      "You have committed a blunder, M. Vicart. I told you this morning to put a detective on the case who would bring us a report along the lines that we desire. I pointed out to you the gravity of the situation."

      "But … " protested M. Vicart.

      "Let me finish… . I thought I had made myself quite clear on that point and now, you actually give the commission to Juve!"

      "Exactly, Monsieur! I gave Juve the commission because he is our most expert detective."

      "That I don't deny, and therefore Juve is certain to discover the truth! It is an unpardonable blunder."

      At this moment a clerk entered with a telegram. M. Annion opened it quickly and read it.

      "Ah! this is enough to bring about the fall of the Ministry. Listen!"

      "The Minister of Hesse-Weimar to the Secretary of the Interior, Place Beauvau, Paris—Numerous telegrams addressed to his Majesty the King of Hesse-Weimar, at present staying incognito at the Royal Palace Hotel, Avenue des Champs Elysées, remainunanswered, in spite of their extreme urgence. The Minister of Hesse-Weimar begs the Secretary of the Interior of France to kindly make inquiries and to send him the assurance that his Majesty the King of Hesse-Weimar is in possession of these diplomatic telegrams."

      M. Annion burst out.

      "There now! Pretty soon they'll be accusing us of intercepting the telegrams … Frederick-Christian doesn't answer! How can I help that! I suppose he's weeping over the death of his mistress. And now that fellow Juve has taken a hand in it! I tell you. Monsieur Vicart, we're in a nice fix!"

      While M. Annion was unburdening his mind to M. Vicart, Juve left the Ministry whistling a march, and hailed a cab to take him to the Rue Monceau.

      He quite understood what was required of him, but his professional pride, his independence and his innate honesty of purpose determined him to ferret out the truth regardless of consequences.

      If, therefore, the hypothesis of suicide could be verified, Juve would be able to be of use to the King; if, on the other hand, it had to be rejected, his report would prove that fact.

      On arriving at the Rue de Monceau, Juve went straight to the concièrge's office and having shown his badge, began to question her:

      "Tell me, Madame Ceiron, did you see the King when he came to pay his visit to his mistress?"

      "No, Monsieur. I saw nothing at all. I was in bed … the bell rang, I opened the door … the King called out as usual, 'the Duke of Haworth'—it's the name he goes by—and then he went upstairs, but I didn't see him."

      "Was he alone?"

      "Ah, that's what everyone asks me! Of course he was alone … the proof being that when they went up and found poor Mlle. Susy, nobody else was there, so … "

      Juve interrupted:

      "All right. Now, tell me, did Mlle. Susy d'Orsel expect any other visitor? Any friend?"

      "Nobody that I knew of … at least that's what she said to her lace-maker—one of my tenants … a very good young girl, Mlle. Marie Pascal—She said like this—'I'm expecting my lover,' but she mentioned nobody else."

      "And this Marie Pascal is the last person who saw Susy d'Orsel alive, excepting, of course, the King? The servants had gone to bed?"

      "Oh, Monsieur, the maid wasn't there. Justine


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