CHAPTER V
John Stapleton, the millionaire banker, accompanied by Richard Duvall,arrived in Paris early in the afternoon, and went at once to theformer's house in the Avenue Kleber.
Upon their arrival, Duvall waited for sometime, while the distressedhusband and wife were closeted together upstairs. At last they descendedto the library, and Duvall was presented to Mrs. Stapleton.
The joy which her husband's arrival had caused her sent a new glow ofhope to her careworn cheeks, and she greeted the detective mostcordially. Clearly she felt that now something would at last be done, tofind her missing child.
Duvall's first questions related to Mary Lanahan, the nurse. He wasrelieved to find that she had quite recovered from her sudden illness.
"Will you kindly have her brought here, Mrs. Stapleton?" he asked. "Iwould like to question her."
In a few moments the nurse appeared. She was an extremely good-lookinggirl, smart and well dressed. Duvall recognized in her frank face, herclear blue eyes, the same appearance of honesty which had impressed himduring his interview with Patrick Lanahan, her father.
"Mary," said Mrs. Stapleton, "this is Mr. Duvall. He is trying to findJack for us. Tell him your story."
The girl turned to Duvall, who had risen. "I can hardly expect you tobelieve what I am going to say, Mr. Duvall, yet I assure you that it isthe solemn truth."
"Go ahead, Miss Lanahan," said the detective. "I am prepared to believewhatever you may say."
The girl sat down, at Mrs. Stapleton's request. She still was somewhatweak, from her recent illness.
"It was a week ago last Wednesday. I left the house with Master Jack athalf-past ten, and we drove to the Bois."
"Just a moment, please." Duvall stopped her with a quick gesture. "Howlong had you been going to the Bois in this way?"
"Over six weeks."
"And you always left about the same time--half-past ten?"
"Always."
"Who accompanied you besides the child?"
"Francois--the chauffeur."
"Always?"
"Yes."
Duvall turned to Mrs. Stapleton. "How long has this man Francois been inyour employ?"
"A year--in June."
"You have found him honest, reliable?"
"Always. Otherwise I should not have kept him."
The detective turned to Mary Lanahan. "Go ahead, please," he said.
"We reached the Bois shortly before eleven--Francois had orders to goslowly, when Master Jack was in the machine--and drove about for fifteenminutes. Then we stopped at the place where we were in the habit ofplaying."
"Was it always the same place?"
"Yes. There is a smooth field of grass there, and a clump of trees bythe road, where the machine always waited."
"Go on."
"We left the car, and walked out over the grass. Master Jack had a bigrubber ball, and he was kicking it along, and running after it.Sometimes he would kick it to me, and I would throw it back to him. Weplayed about in that way for over half an hour. Mrs. Stapleton wishedthe boy to have the exercise."
"I see. And you generally played about in the same place?"
"Yes."
"How far from the road?"
"About three hundred feet."
"And from the nearest bushes, or woods?"
"A little more than that, I should say."
"You could see Francois, in the machine, from where you were?"
"Yes, I could see the machine. I could not always see Francois; forsometimes he would get out, and walk about, or sit under the trees andsmoke a cigarette."
"Do you remember noticing him, on this particular morning?"
"Yes. I saw him sitting in the machine."
"What was he doing?"
"Reading a newspaper."
"Had he ever done that before?"
The girl hesitated, as though a new idea had come to her. "No--I cannotremember that he ever had."
"Very well. Go ahead with your story."
"Well--after we had played for about half an hour--I got tired and satdown on the grass. Master Jack still kept playing about with the ball. Isat idly, looking at the sky, the road--dreaming--"
"About what?" interrupted the detective, suddenly.
The girl colored. "About--about some people I know."
"Go ahead."
"I heard the boy playing, behind me. Then I looked around--and--he wasgone!" The nurse made this statement in a voice so full of awe that itcarried conviction to her hearers. Duvall felt that, whatever the realfacts of the disappearance of the child, this woman's story was true.
"What did you do then?"
"I stood up and looked about. I thought Master Jack was hiding fromme--playing a joke on me. Then I realized that there was no place thathe could hide. The nearest trees were too far off. He could not havereached them. I called and called. I was very much frightened."
"Francois, who heard me, came running over the grass. I asked him if hehad seen Master Jack. He said, no, that he had not seen anyone. Afterthat we searched everywhere--in the woods, along the road--for nearly anhour, but could find nothing. Then we came home, and told Mrs.Stapleton." The girl looked at her employers in fright.
"What about the rubber ball?" Duvall asked, suddenly.
"It--it was gone."
"Then it is clear that the child must have been taken away peaceably,without objection on his part. Had he struggled, cried, he would havedropped the ball, would he not?"
"I suppose so."
"How long was your head turned from him--while you were--dreaming?"
"About a minute."
"Not more?"
"No."
"How do you estimate the time so closely?"
"I'm sure it could not have been longer. A minute is quite a longtime."
"What time was it when you got back to the house?"
"About--about one o'clock, I think." The girl turned to Mrs. Stapletonfor confirmation of her answer.
"It was a quarter-past one," said Mrs. Stapleton, promptly. "I noted thetime particularly, because it was later than usual. Mary had orders tobring Jack back for luncheon not later than one."
Duvall began to make some figures on a piece of paper. "You fix the timeof the boy's disappearance at 11.30. You say you hunted for him an hour.That would be 12.30." He looked at the girl searchingly. "You arrivedhome at 1.15. That would mean that it took 45 minutes to get here." Heturned to Stapleton. "Please send for your chauffeur, Francois."
Mr. Stapleton rang a bell, and ordered the servant who responded to sendin the chauffeur. Meanwhile Mary Lanahan was regarding Duvall withnervous apprehension.
"We must have hunted for him longer than I thought," she said, atlength.
Duvall made no reply, but waited until the arrival of the chauffeur. Heproved to be a short, heavily built man, with long powerful arms, and aswarthy face--evidently from the south of France. His countenance wasstolid and emotionless. He appeared the well trained servant.
Duvall addressed him at once. "How long would it take you, my man,driving fast, to reach this house from the spot in the Bois where MasterJack was lost?"
The man responded at once. "Ten minutes," he said, "easily."
"What time was it when this woman," the detective indicated the nurse,"called to you, on discovering that the child was gone?"
"I do not know."
"Have you no idea?"
"It must have been about twelve o'clock. We hunted for the boy tillabout one--then came home."
"The nurse says it was half-past eleven."
The man shrugged his shoulders. "It may have been. I did not observe thetime."
"What were you doing?"
"I was asleep."
Mr. Stapleton started. "Asleep?" he demanded, angrily.
The man nodded. "The day was warm. I had nothing to do. For a time Iread the paper. I must have dozed in my seat; for, the next thing Iknew, the nurse was calling to me, and the boy was gone."
Duval
l frowned. "Then you could not say whether anyone else was near thenurse and the boy, at the time he was kidnapped?"
"No, monsieur. I could not."
"That will do." The detective turned to Mr. Stapleton. "Have your mandrive us to the place where all this occurred."
The banker gave the man the order, and he left the room. Then Duvallturned again to Mary Lanahan.
"You were taken suddenly ill one day last week. Tell us about it."
The woman looked up. "It was very mysterious, sir. I went out for awalk. At a cafe in the Rue St. Honore I had a cup of chocolate."
"Alone?" asked the detective, sharply.
The woman colored. "No," she faltered. "I--I was with a friend."
"Who?"
"A--a gentleman I know." She glanced fearfully at Mr. Stapleton. "I--Iwould rather not give his name."
"Was it Alphonse Valentin?" asked Duvall, quickly.
The woman colored still more deeply. "Yes," she replied, in scarcelyaudible tones.
The banker regarded her in surprise. "Alphonse Valentin!" he cried. "Thefellow I discharged last year, for dishonesty? Mr. Duvall--he's yourman!"
"No--no!" exclaimed the nurse, excitedly. "He knows nothing of thematter--nothing!"
"That remains to be seen," remarked Duvall, slowly. "Where did you meetthis fellow, Valentin?"
"At the cafe in the Rue St. Honore."
"You had met him there frequently before?"
"Yes."
"After you left the cafe, what did you do?"
"We walked to the Champs Elysees and sat on a bench, talking. Suddenly Ifelt very ill. Mr. Valentin called a cab and sent me home."
"Give me the address of this cafe, please."
The woman did so. As Duvall was entering it in his notebook, a servantannounced that the automobile was at the door.
In fifteen minutes the party, consisting of Mr. Stapleton, Duvall, andMary Lanahan, were leaving the car at the spot in the Bois de Boulognewhich had been the scene of the kidnapping. Francois was ordered todrive his machine to the exact spot, as nearly as he could tell, that ithad occupied on the previous occasion. Mary Lanahan led the others tothe place on the grass where she had sat.
It was evident at once that the distances she had named in telling herstory were less, if anything, than the actual facts. It was quiteimpossible to see how, in any way, the child could have been taken fromthe spot she indicated, to the woods, without consuming a considerableperiod of time--five minutes, at least. To believe that the nurse couldhave turned away her head for a moment, and then looked around to findthe boy gone seemed the sheerest fabric of the imagination; yet thewoman, in repeating her story, stuck to it with a grim pertinacitywhich, it seemed, could come only from the knowledge that she wastelling the truth.
Ten days had elapsed since the boy had been kidnapped. It seemed almostuseless to search the spot for any evidences of the crime. Yet Duvallbegan to go over the ground where the nurse testified that she had sat,with the most minute care. Inch by inch, he examined the turf,subjecting almost every blade of grass to a separate examination. Theoperation required over half an hour, and both Mr. Stapleton and thenurse grew tired of watching him, and strolled about aimlessly.
Hence they did not see him pick up a tiny object from the grass. It wasa half-smoked cigarette, dirty and almost falling to pieces from theaction of the weather, yet held together by a slender tip of gold.
He placed it carefully within his pocketbook, and rose. "Nothing more tobe done here," he called to Mr. Stapleton, and in a moment the threewere proceeding toward the waiting automobile.
Upon the return to the house, Mr. Stapleton drew the detective into hislibrary. "Have you discovered anything, Mr. Duvall?" he inquired, makingan effort to conceal his almost frantic anxiety.
"I do not know--yet. I may have a clue; but I am not sure."
"What do you think of the woman's story?"
"It seems impossible to believe it."
"You think, then, that she had a hand in the matter--she and this fellowValentin?"
"It begins to look like it."
"On what do you base your conclusions, Mr. Duvall? I cannot bring myselfto believe that Mary Lanahan is lying, ready as I am to suspect thisfellow Valentin."
"First, Mr. Stapleton, on the facts themselves. The boy could not havebeen taken away without her knowledge. Secondly, upon some minormatters--her error of half an hour, in telling her story, for instance."
"I am sorry, Mr. Duvall, but I cannot believe that you are right. I'dsuspect Valentin, at once; but if Mary Lanahan is not telling the truth,then my experience of twenty years in judging human nature has beenwasted."
"Yet you yourself heard her admit that she was with Valentin only lastFriday, the day she was taken ill."
"Yes. That is true." Mr. Stapleton passed his hand uncertainly acrosshis forehead. "It's too much for me."
"Let me have a word with the nurse, alone, before I go," asked Duvall.
"Certainly," replied the banker. "I'll send her in to you."
When Mary Lanahan entered the room, the detective went up to her andeyed her sternly. "Was Alphonse Valentin with you at any time, in theBois, that day?"
"No," replied the girl, steadily.
"Does he smoke gold-tipped cigarettes?" asked Duvall, suddenly.
The effect of this question upon the nurse was startling. She recoiledas though the detective had struck her. "He--he does not smoke at all,"she gasped, her face gray with fear.
"Don't lie to me!"
"He does not smoke at all," repeated the girl, almost mechanically, andstood confronting him with a defiant air.
"Very well. That is all." The detective turned from the room and leftthe house.
He did not, however, go very far. It was rapidly becoming dark. Hepassed down the street until he judged he was out of sight of the house,then slowly retraced his steps upon the other side, until he had reacheda point nearly opposite the small iron gateway which served as theservants' entrance to Mr. Stapleton's house. Here, hidden behind atree, he watched for perhaps half an hour.
At the expiration of this period, he was rewarded by seeing a young man,evidently an under servant, emerge from the gateway. Duvall watched himas he proceeded down the street, then began to follow him.
The young man seemed in no great hurry, and at the junction of theavenue with the Champs Elysees, Duvall accosted him, speaking in French.
"Do you want to earn twenty francs, my friend?" he asked pleasantly.
The boy regarded him with a quizzical smile. "Who does not, Monsieur?"he replied.
"Let me see the note you have in your hand."
The boy drew back suddenly, and made as though to thrust the letter intohis pocket. "It is impossible, Monsieur," he began.
Duvall took out a gold twenty-franc piece. "I intend to have the letter,my man. If you will give it to me peaceably, here are the twenty francs;if not, I shall be obliged to take it from you by force."
The boy regarded the detective for a moment, as though contemplatingflight. Duvall seized him by the collar. "Give me the note," he cried,"or I'll call a gendarme and have you placed under arrest!"
The boy allowed the letter to drop to the pavement, seized thetwenty-franc piece, and took to his heels.
Duvall picked it up. As he had expected, it was addressed to AlphonseValentin, ---- Boulevard St. Michel. He had waited, on the chance thatMary Lanahan would lose no time in warning her probable confederate.
The letter gave him the man's address. That was so much accomplished, atleast. Then he tore it open, and read the contents. They proved moremystifying than anything that he had yet encountered in this mysteriousaffair.
"Destroy the cigarettes!" These three words comprised the entirecontents of the note.
The Blue Lights: A Detective Story Page 5