30 Suspense and Thriller Masterpieces. Гилберт Кит Честертон
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on its way to Paris. Night was beginning to fall and multi-colored signals showed their points of light as the train sped past way stations.
Juve, plunged in his thoughts, paid no attention to what was passing without. He had picked up a copy of the Hesse-Weimar Gazettebefore leaving, and in it had read the following:
"The desperate bandit, Fantômas, arrested two days ago in the Royal Palace while in the act of stealing the diamond, has committed suicide by shooting himself through the head with a small revolver he had hidden in his clothes. His body is now lying in the mortuary chapel of the cemetery awaiting the inevitable autopsy."
This information but confirmed Juve in the hypothesis he had formed. But there still remained a point to be cleared up. Undoubtedly the public were being duped … but who was duping them, and why? If Juve was thought to be Fantômas, they wouldn't have let him escape and put a dead man in his place. On the other hand, if they knew that Juve was not Fantômas, why the devil had this suicide story been invented?
A new idea suddenly flashed through Juve's mind.
"Suppose that not only the people of Hesse-Weimar but also the Government have been fooled!"
A glimpse caught of Prince Gudulfin descending from the private car at the Hesse-Weimar station, was sufficient to start this train of thought. By association of ideas the sight of the Prince brought to Juve's mind the figure of the Grand Duchess Alexandra, who was no other than Lady Beltham. And Lady Beltham suggested Fantômas, whom Juve was inclined to credit not only with his arrest but also with his liberation.
When the train pulled into the Frontier Station Juve, still wearing his false beard and whiskers, jumped down and hurried to the ticket office to buy his transportation to Paris. As he was returning, he happened to glance at the private car attached to the train at Glotzbourg, when, in spite of his self-control, he could not repress a cry of triumph.
One of the window curtains was suddenly raised and then immediately lowered again, but Juve had time to recognize a face. It was that of the Grand Duchess Alexandra … otherwise Lady Beltham. The train whistled.
Juve had only just time to regain his compartment. He began pacing up and down the corridor, rubbing his hands, almost jumping for joy. At last the mystery was cleared. He understood what had been going on. Lady Beltham had fainted when Juve was arrested. Why?
Evidently, because she had accepted the general opinion that he was Fantômas. After coming to herself and learning that the monster was in prison, she had made up her mind to effect his escape cost what it might.
But how was she to set about it?
Doubtless Lady Beltham, in her capacity of Grand Duchess, had many devoted friends, and it was evidently with their aid that the evasion had been brought about. And Lady Beltham, herself a dupe, still imagined it was her lover she had saved; when in reality she had set at liberty his most determined enemy.
As the air now began to grow chilly, Juve returned to his compartment and picked up his overcoat. He was about to put it on, when he stopped in amazement.
On the lining was pinned a paper with the following words scribbled in pencil:
"America Hotel, Paris."
For a long time Juve, with bent brows, read and reread these words. They could only have been brought here by Lady Beltham herself while Juve was away getting his ticket. What did this mysterious address portend?
If Lady Beltham believed she was communicating with Fantômas, she certainly would have no need to write to him; she would know well enough where to find him.
Furthermore, why didn't she simply walk through the several intervening cars and talk to him? What could be the motive powerful enough to prevent the mistress rejoining her lover? Upon second thoughts Juve doubted the hypothesis that Lady Beltham had intended to instigate the release of Fantômas. Might she not have become weary of the yoke which joined her to this monster and be really repentant of her crimes? It would not be the first time she had tasted remorse—and, instead of saving Fantômas, was aware that Juve had been set at liberty.
"Yes," echoed Juve, "this second hypothesis is evidently the right one and Lady Beltham has ranged herself upon the side of law."
The detective, with a defiant glance at the deepening evening shadows, proclaimed grandiloquently:
"So be it, Lady Beltham, it shall not be said that a gallant man repays you with ingratitude, and if you care to have it so we will say in unison:
"Between us three, Fantômas!"
The train thundered through the night. It was only at seven in the morning that the suburbs of Paris showed through an uncertain fog.
Saint Denis, the fortifications, and then the train slowed up and stopped under the great glass dome of the Gare du Nord. Juve, waking with a start, hastily sprang out and made his way to the private car in the hope of seeing Lady Beltham. But the Lady had already disappeared… . Juve caught up with her just in time to see her enter an automobile which instantly got under way. He managed to catch the number of the car, but could not find a taxi rapid enough to make the attempt of overtaking her.
"Oh, well," he exclaimed, "I know how to find her."
A sudden thought struck him:
"The delay accorded me by M. Annion expires to-day, and the arrest of the false Frederick-Christian is about due. I don't suppose Fandor has taken any steps, but I'd better find out what is happening."
Juve consulted his watch:
"Half-past seven, I can call on the Minister of the Interior."
He sprang into a taxi and cried:
"Number eleven, Rue des Saussaies!"
Chapter 23 OFFICIAL OPINIONS
"Well, M. Vicart?"
"Well, M. Annion, that's all."
"That's all!" replied M. Annion. "That's nothing! We've been talking for a quarter of an hour without getting anywhere or reaching any conclusion."
"But, M. Annion… ."
"No, I say… . It is I who have been giving you all the information and that, you know, is rather surprising… . You are the acting head of the Secret Service and you should have known all this. It's not my place to tell you what's going on at the Royal Palace."
"M. Annion, nothing at all has happened."
This reply threw M. Annion into a sudden fit of anger.
"Is that so? Nothing has happened, hasn't it? And you don't realize the gravity of the case! Really, Vicart, it's discouraging! Can't you understand that we must absolutely come to some decision? The ministry is under the constant threat of interpellations and that state of affairs cannot continue."
"Oh, I don't say the situation isn't serious, I only say nothing new has turned up."
"That's just what I'm complaining about—your absolute lack of comprehension. To begin with, a week has gone by … a whole week since Juve left, and not a word from Glotzbourg… . In fact, Juve is a day late already… . Does that convey nothing to you?… To me it means that Juve has found nothing there."
"I don't quite understand," ventured the bewildered Vicart.
M. Annion took pity on his subordinate.
"Before Juve left he had proved to me that the King was the real King; isn't that so?"
"Yes."
"But that doesn't alter the fact that the King is a murderer… . Juve suspected some court intrigue, that's why he left for Glotzbourg. Now what is our situation? We have a King who has committed murder, and we don't arrest him. But that is the least of my worries. What about public opinion on the one hand and the extraordinary audacity of this monarch on the other?"
"Public opinion?"
"Yes!