Detective Lecoq - Complete Murder Mysteries. Emile Gaboriau
all one’s dirty linen at home, I had never desired anything but an amicable arrangement. With my hands full of proofs, I should still recoil from a public trial.”
“Would you not have brought an action?”
“Never, sir, not at any price. Could I,” he added proudly, “to regain my rightful name, begin by dishonouring it?”
This time M. Daburon could not conceal his sincere admiration.
“A most praiseworthy feeling, sir,” he said.
“I think,” replied Noel, “that it is but natural. If things came to the worst, I had determined to leave my title with Albert. No doubt the name of Commarin is an illustrious one; but I hope that, in ten years time, mine will be more known. I would, however, have demanded a large pecuniary compensation. I possess nothing: and I have often been hampered in my career by the want of money. That which Madame Gerdy owed to the generosity of my father was almost entirely spent. My education had absorbed a great part of it; and it was long before my profession covered my expenses. Madame Gerdy and I live very quietly; but, unfortunately, though simple in her tastes, she lacks economy and system; and no one can imagine how great our expenses have been. But I have nothing to reproach myself with, whatever happens. At the commencement, I could not keep my anger well under control; but now I bear no ill-will. On learning of the death of my nurse, though, I cast all my hopes into the sea.”
“You were wrong, my dear sir,” said the magistrate. “I advise you to still hope. Perhaps, before the end of the day, you will enter into possession of your rights. Justice, I will not conceal from you, thinks she has found Widow Lerouge’s assassin. At this moment, Viscount Albert is doubtless under arrest.”
“What!” exclaimed Noel, with a sort of stupor: “I was not, then, mistaken, sir, in the meaning of your words. I dreaded to understand them.”
“You have not mistaken me, sir,” said M. Daburon. “I thank you for your sincere straightforward explanations; they have eased my task materially. To-morrow — for today my time is all taken up — we will write down your deposition together if you like. I have nothing more to say, I believe, except to ask you for the letters in your possession, and which are indispensable to me.”
“Within an hour, sir, you shall have them,” replied Noel. And he retired, after having warmly expressed his gratitude to the investigating magistrate.
Had he been less preoccupied, the advocate might have perceived at the end of the gallery old Tabaret, who had just arrived, eager and happy, like a bearer of great news as he was.
His cab had scarcely stopped at the gate of the Palais de Justice before he was in the courtyard and rushing towards the porch. To see him jumping more nimbly than a fifth-rate lawyer’s clerk up the steep flight of stairs leading to the magistrate’s office, one would never have believed that he was many years on the shady side of fifty. Even he himself had forgotten it. He did not remember how he had passed the night; he had never before felt so fresh, so agile, in such spirits; he seemed to have springs of steel in his limbs.
He burst like a cannon-shot into the magistrate’s office, knocking up against the methodical clerk in the rudest of ways, without even asking his pardon.
“Caught!” he cried, while yet on the threshold, “caught, nipped, squeezed, strung, trapped, locked! We have got the man.”
Old Tabaret, more Tirauclair than ever, gesticulated with such comical vehemence and such remarkable contortions that even the tall clerk smiled, for which, however, he took himself severely to task on going to bed that night.
But M. Daburon, still under the influence of Noel’s deposition, was shocked at this apparently unseasonable joy; although he felt the safer for it. He looked severely at old Tabaret, saying — “Hush, sir; be decent, compose yourself.”
At any other time, the old fellow would have felt ashamed at having deserved such a reprimand. Now, it made no impression on him.
“I can’t be quiet,” he replied. “Never has anything like this been known before. All that I mentioned has been found. Broken foil, lavender kid gloves slightly frayed, cigar-holder; nothing is wanting. You shall have them, sir, and many other things besides. I have a little system of my own, which appears by no means a bad one. Just see the triumph of my method of induction, which Gevrol ridiculed so much. I’d give a hundred francs if he were only here now. But no; my Gevrol wants to nab the man with the earrings; he is just capable of doing that. He is a fine fellow, this Gevrol, a famous fellow! How much do you give him a year for his skill?”
“Come, my dear M. Tabaret,” said the magistrate, as soon as he could get in a word, “be serious, if you can, and let us proceed in order.”
“Pooh!” replied the old fellow, “what good will that do? It is a clear case now. When they bring the fellow before you, merely show him the particles of kid taken from behind the nails of the victim, side by side with his torn gloves, and you will overwhelm him. I wager that he will confess all, hic et nunc — yes, I wager my head against his; although that’s pretty risky; for he may get off yet! Those milk-sops on the jury are just capable of according him extenuating circumstances. Ah! all those delays are fatal to justice! Why if all the world were of my mind, the punishment of rascals wouldn’t take such a time. They should be hanged as soon as caught. That’s my opinion.”
M. Daburon resigned himself to this shower of words. As soon as the old fellow’s excitement had cooled down a little, he began questioning him. He even then had great trouble in obtaining the exact details of the arrest; details which later on were confirmed by the commissary’s official report.
The magistrate appeared very surprised when he heard that Albert had exclaimed, “I am lost!” at sight of the warrant. “That,” muttered he, “is a terrible proof against him.”
“I should think so,” replied old Tabaret. “In his ordinary state, he would never have allowed himself to utter such words; for they in fact destroy him. We arrested him when he was scarcely awake. He hadn’t been in bed, but was lying in a troubled sleep, upon a sofa, when we arrived. I took good care to let a frightened servant ran in advance, and to follow closely upon him myself, to see the effect. All my arrangements were made. But, never fear, he will find a plausible excuse for this fatal exclamation. By the way, I should add that we found on the floor, near by, a crumpled copy of last evening’s ‘Gazette de France,’ which contained an account of the assassination. This is the first time that a piece of news in the papers ever helped to nab a criminal.”
“Yes,” murmured the magistrate, deep in thought, “yes, you are a valuable man, M. Tabaret.” Then, louder, he added, “I am thoroughly convinced; for M. Gerdy has just this moment left me.”
“You have seen Noel!” cried the old fellow. On the instant all his proud self-satisfaction disappeared. A cloud of anxiety spread itself like a veil over his beaming countenance. “Noel here,” he repeated. Then he timidly added: “And does he know?”
“Nothing,” replied M. Daburon. “I had no need of mentioning your name. Besides, had I not promised absolute secrecy?”
“Ah, that’s all right,” cried old Tabaret. “And what do you think sir, of Noel?”
“His is, I am sure, a noble, worthy heart,” said the magistrate; “a nature both strong and tender. The sentiments which I heard him express here, and the genuineness of which it is impossible to doubt, manifested an elevation of soul, unhappily, very rare. Seldom in my life have I met with a man who so won my sympathy from the first. I can well understand one’s pride in being among his friends.”
“Just what I said; he has precisely the same effect upon every one. I love him as though he were my own child; and, whatever happens, he will inherit almost the whole of my fortune: yes, I intend leaving him everything. My will is made, and is in the hands of M. Baron, my notary. There is a small legacy, too, for Madame Gerdy; but I am going to have the paragraph that relates to that taken out at once.”
“Madame Gerdy, M. Tabaret, will soon be beyond all need of worldly goods.”