LUPIN - The Adventures of Gentleman Thief. Морис Леблан
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to the disagreeable part," said Guerchard.
The telephone bell rang; and he rose and went to it. He put the receiver to his ear and said, "Yes; it's I—Chief-Inspector Guerchard."
He turned and said to the Duke, "It's the gardener at Charmerace, your Grace."
"Is it?" said the Duke indifferently.
Guerchard turned to the telephone. "Are you there?" he said. "Can you hear me clearly? ... I want to know who was in your hot-house yesterday ... who could have gathered some of your pink salvias?"
"I told you that it was I," said the Duke.
"Yes, yes, I know," said Guerchard. And he turned again to the telephone. "Yes, yesterday," he said. "Nobody else? ... No one but the Duke of Charmerace? ... Are you sure?... quite sure?... absolutely sure? ... Yes, that's all I wanted to know ... thank you."
He turned to the Duke and said, "Did you hear that, your Grace? The gardener says that you were the only person in his hot-houses yesterday, the only person who could have plucked any pink salvias."
"Does he?" said the Duke carelessly.
Guerchard looked at him, his brow knitted in a faint, pondering frown. Then the door opened, and Bonavent came in: "I've been through Victoire's room," he said, "and all I could find that might be of any use is this—a prayer-book. It was on her dressing-table just as she left it. The inspector hadn't touched it."
"What about it?" said Guerchard, taking the prayer-book.
"There's a photograph in it," said Bonavent. "It may come in useful when we circulate her description; for I suppose we shall try to get hold of Victoire."
Guerchard took the photograph from the prayer-book and looked at it: "It looks about ten years old," he said. "It's a good deal faded for reproduction. Hullo! What have we here?"
The photograph showed Victoire in her Sunday best, and with her a boy of seventeen or eighteen. Guerchard's eyes glued themselves to the face of the boy. He stared at it, holding the portrait now nearer, now further off. His eyes kept stealing covertly from the photograph to the face of the Duke.
The Duke caught one of those covert glances, and a vague uneasiness flickered in his eyes. Guerchard saw it. He came nearer to the Duke and looked at him earnestly, as if he couldn't believe his eyes.
"What's the matter?" said the Duke. "What are you looking at so curiously? Isn't my tie straight?" And he put up his hand and felt it.
"Oh, nothing, nothing," said Guerchard. And he studied the photograph again with a frowning face.
There was a noise of voices and laughter in the hall.
"Those people are going," said the Duke. "I must go down and say good-bye to them." And he rose and went out of the room.
Guerchard stood staring, staring at the photograph.
The Duke ran down the stairs, and said goodbye to the millionaire's guests. After they had gone, M. Gournay-Martin went quickly up the stairs; Germaine and the Duke followed more slowly.
"My father is going to the Ritz to sleep," said Germaine, "and I'm going with him. He doesn't like the idea of my sleeping in this house to-night. I suppose he's afraid that Lupin will make an attack in force with all his gang. Still, if he did, I think that Guerchard could give a good account of himself—he's got men enough in the house, at any rate. Irma tells me it's swarming with them. It would never do for me to be in the house if there were a fight."
"Oh, come, you don't really believe that Lupin is coming to-night?" said the Duke, with a sceptical laugh. "The whole thing is sheer bluff—he has no more intention of coming tonight to steal that coronet than—than I have."
"Oh, well, there's no harm in being on the safe side," said Germaine. "Everybody's agreed that he's a very terrible person. I'll just run up to my room and get a wrap; Irma has my things all packed. She can come round tomorrow morning to the Ritz and dress me."
She ran up the stairs, and the Duke went into the drawing-room. He found Guerchard standing where he had left him, still frowning, still thinking hard.
"The family are off to the Ritz. It's rather a reflection on your powers of protecting them, isn't it?" said the Duke.
"Oh, well, I expect they'd be happier out of the house," said Guerchard. He looked at the Duke again with inquiring, searching eyes.
"What's the matter?" said the Duke. "IS my tie crooked?"
"Oh, no, no; it's quite straight, your Grace," said Guerchard, but he did not take his eyes from the Duke's face.
The door opened, and in came M. Gournay-Martin, holding a bag in his hand. "It seems to be settled that I'm never to sleep in my own house again," he said in a grumbling tone.
"There's no reason to go," said the Duke. "Why ARE you going?"
"Danger," said M. Gournay-Martin. "You read Lupin's telegram: 'I shall come to-night between a quarter to twelve and midnight to take the coronet.' He knows that it was in my bedroom. Do you think I'm going to sleep in that room with the chance of that scoundrel turning up and cutting my throat?"
"Oh, you can have a dozen policemen in the room if you like," said the Duke. "Can't he, M. Guerchard?"
"Certainly," said Guerchard. "I can answer for it that you will be in no danger, M. Gournay-Martin."
"Thank you," said the millionaire. "But all the same, outside is good enough for me."
Germaine came into the room, cloaked and ready to start.
"For once in a way you are ready first, papa," she said. "Are you coming, Jacques?"
"No; I think I'll stay here, on the chance that Lupin is not bluffing," said the Duke. "I don't think, myself, that I'm going to be gladdened by the sight of him—in fact, I'm ready to bet against it. But you're all so certain about it that I really must stay on the chance. And, after all, there's no doubt that he's a man of immense audacity and ready to take any risk."
"Well, at any rate, if he does come he won't find the diadem," said M. Gournay-Martin, in a tone of triumph. "I'm taking it with me—I've got it here." And he held up his bag.
"You are?" said the Duke.
"Yes, I am," said M. Gournay-Martin firmly.
"Do you think it's wise?" said the Duke.
"Why not?" said M. Gournay-Martin.
"If Lupin's really made up his mind to collar that coronet, and if you're so sure that, in spite of all these safeguards, he's going to make the attempt, it seems to me that you're taking a considerable risk. He asked you to have it ready for him in your bedroom. He didn't say which bedroom."
"Good Lord! I never thought of that!" said M. Gournay-Martin, with an air of sudden and very lively alarm.
"His Grace is right," said Guerchard. "It would be exactly like Lupin to send that telegram to drive you out of the house with the coronet to some place where you would be less protected. That is exactly one of his tricks."
"Good Heavens!" said the millionaire, pulling out his keys and unlocking the bag. He opened it, paused hesitatingly, and snapped it to again.
"Half a minute," he said. "I want a word with you, Duke."
He led the way out of the drawing-room door and the Duke followed him. He shut the door and said in a whisper:
"In a case like this, I suspect everybody."
"Everybody suspects everybody, apparently," said the Duke. "Are you sure you don't suspect me?"
"Now, now, this is no time for joking," said the millionaire impatiently. "What do you think about Guerchard?"
"About Guerchard?" said the Duke. "What do you mean?"
"Do you think I can put full confidence in Guerchard?" said M. Gournay-Martin.
"Oh, I think so," said the Duke. "Besides, I