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The Exploits of Juve

Page 6

by Pierre Souvestre and Marcel Allain


  V

  LOUPART'S ANGER

  Loupart was taking a fruit cure. It was about ten in the morning, andalong the Rues Charbonniere, Chartres and Goutte d'Or the women hawkers,driven from central Paris by the police, were making for the high groundof the populous quarters.

  Loupart strolled along the pavement, making grabs at the barrows,picking a handful of strawberries or cherries as he went by. If bychance the dealer complained, she was quickly silenced by a chaffingspeech or a stern glance.

  The hooligan stopped at the "Comrades' Tryst," in front of which MotherToulouche had set out a table with a large basket of winkles.

  "Want to try them?" suggested the old woman on catching sight ofJosephine's lover.

  "Hand me a pin," he answered harshly, and in a few moments had emptiedhalf a dozen shells.

  "Friend Square, I've something to say to you."

  "Out with it, then."

  But before the old woman could reply, a noise of roller skates comingdown the pavement made her turn.

  Loupart looked round with a smile.

  "Why here comes the auto-bus," he cried.

  A cripple moving at a great pace came plump into the basket ofshell-fish. The speed with which he travelled had earned him thenickname of the Motor. He was said to be an old railway mechanic, whohad lost both legs in an accident.

  "Motor," cried Mother Toulouche, "I have to be away for ten minutes orso; look after my basket, will you?"

  Following the old dame to her den Loupart entered with difficulty, onaccount of the great quantity of heterogeneous objects with which it wascrowded. The product of innumerable thefts lay heaped up pell-mell inthis illicit bazaar.

  Dame Toulouche, having shut the door, plunged into her subject.

  "Big Ernestine is furious with you, Loupart."

  "If she's threatening me," the hooligan replied, "I'll soon fix her."

  "No, big Ernestine didn't want to fight, but she was annoyed at thepublic affront put upon her by Josephine's lover when he drove her from'The Good Comrades' the evening before last without any reason."

  "Without any reason!" growled Loupart. "Then what was her business withthose spies, the Sapper and Nonet?"

  "That can't be! Not the Sapper!"

  "Spies, I tell you; they belong to headquarters."

  The old receiver of stolen goods cast up her eyes. "And they looked suchdecent people, too! Who can one trust?"

  Loupart, for reply, suddenly picked up a scarf pin set with a diamond,and, tossing the old Woman a five-dollar piece, said as he left theroom: "You can tell Ernestine that I bear her no malice."

  Loupart had hardly gone a few steps along the Rue Charbonniere, when, atthe corner of the Rue de Chartres, he bumped into a passer-by who wascoming down the street.

  Loupart burst out laughing: "What! Can this be you, Beard? What'shappened to you?"

  It certainly needed a practised eye to recognise the famous leader ofthe Cypher gang. For the Beard, who owed his name to an abnormal hairydevelopment, was clean shaved; in addition, he wore a soft, greenishhat and was clad in a suit with huge checks.

  "You told me to make up as an American."

  "I did, and you've made yourself look like a hayseed juggins. ForHeaven's sake, take it off. By the way, what about young Mimile?"

  "He's with us."

  "Well, get him the togs of a collegian for the job at the docks. Whatnight do we bring it off?"

  "Saturday night, unless the Cooper changes the time."

  Loupart bent close to the ear of his lieutenant.

  "Is he--easy to recognise?"

  "No chance of making an error. Lean, togged in dark clothes and with onegoggle eye."

  Loupart touched the "Beard's" arm.

  "First-class tickets for everybody."

  "How many will there be?"

  "Five or six."

  "Women, too?"

  "No, only my girl. But you can bet we shan't be bored!" With thesewords, Loupart walked away. He stopped a little later at the secondhouse in the Rue Goutte d'Or, a decent-looking house with carpet on thestairs.

  On reaching the fifth floor, he knocked several times on the door facinghim, but without reply. This annoyed him; he didn't like Josephine tosleep late, and he expected her to be always ready when he condescendedto come and fetch her.

  Josephine was a pretty burnisher from Belleville, and Loupart, who hadmet her at a ball in that quarter six months ago had made her hisfavourite mistress.

  Among the bullies and drabs that frequented the place, Josephine hadappeared to him seductive, charming, almost virginal, and the popularhooligan had promptly chosen her from her sisters of the underworld.

  Certainly Josephine had no reason to complain of her lover's conduct,and if at times he demanded of her a blind submission, he never treatedher with that fierce brutality which characterised most of his fellows.But if Josephine had felt any leaning toward a good life, or anyscruples of conscience, she must necessarily have thrown them overboardas soon as her connection with Loupart began. With a different start inlife she might have become an honest little woman, but circumstancesmade her the mistress of a hooligan ring-leader, and, everythingconsidered, she had a certain pride in being so, without imitating thevulgar and brutal behaviour of her companions.

  At the third summons, Loupart, none too patient, drove the door in witha vigorous shove of his shoulders.

  Josephine's apartment, a comfortable and spacious room, with a finebird's-eye view of Paris, was empty.

  Fancying his mistress was at some neighbour's gossiping, he bawled:"Josephine! Come here!"

  Heads appeared, looking anxiously out of rooms on the same floor.

  "Where is Josephine?" Loupart cried.

  Mme. Guinon came forward.

  "I don't know," she replied, stammering. "She complained of pains in herstomach last evening, and I was told she's gone."

  "Gone? Gone where?" stormed Loupart.

  "Why, I don't know; it was Julie who told me."

  A freckled face, half hidden by a matted shock of hair, appeared. Juliewas not reticent like her mother. She explained in a hoarse, alcoholicvoice:

  "It's quite simple. When I came in last night about four I heard groansin Josephine's room. I went to see and found Josephine writhing in painas if she had been--poisoned."

  "What did you do then?"

  "Oh, nothing," declared Julie. "I just trotted away again; it wasn't mybusiness, but the Flirt came and meddled in it."

  "The Flirt! Where is she?"

  The Flirt, a faded, wrinkled woman of fifty, appeared from a doorwaywhere she had been listening.

  "Where is Josephine?" demanded Loupart.

  "At Lariboisiere hospital, ward 22, since you want to know."

  After a moment's amazement, Loupart broke out furiously:

  "You sent off Josephine in the middle of the night! You took her to ahospital for a little indigestion! Without asking my consent! Why she'sno more ill than I am!"

  "Have to believe she is," replied the Flirt, "since the 'probes' havekept her."

  Loupart turned and tramped downstairs swearing.

  "She'll come out of that a damned sight quicker than she went in!"

  A few moments later Loupart entered Father Korn's saloon. Having setforth his plans to that worthy, the latter proceeded to demolish them.

  "You can't do anything to-day, so there's no use trying. You'll have towait till to-morrow at midday, the proper visiting hour."

  Loupart recognised the truth of the publican's assertion and, callingfor writing paper, sat down and scrawled a letter to his mistress.

  "Motor," he cried to the cripple who was still at Mother Toulouche'sbasket, "tumble along with this note to Lariboisiere; look sharp, andwhen you get back I'll stand you a glass."

  As the cripple hurried away he was all but knocked down by a newsboy,running and shouting:

  "Extra! Extra! Get _The Capital_. Extraordinary and mysterious crime ofthe Cite Frochot. Murder of a woman."r />
  "Shall I get a copy?" asked the publican.

  Loupart stalked out of the saloon without turning.

  "Oh, I know all about that," he cried.

  Father Korn stood rooted to the spot at Loupart's answer.

  "What! He knows already!"

 

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