Le crime d'Orcival. English

by Emile Gaboriau

  V

  The staircase had been put under guard, but the vestibule had remainedfree. People were heard coming and going, tramping and coughing; thenrising above this continuous noise, the oaths of the gendarmes trying tokeep back the crowd. From time to time, a scared face passed by thedining-room door, which was ajar. These were curious folks who, moredaring than the rest, wished to see the "men of justice" eating, andtried to hear a word or two, to report them, and so become important inthe eyes of the others. But the "men of justice"--as they said atOrcival--took care to say nothing of moment while the doors were open,and while a servant was passing to and fro. Greatly moved by thisfrightful crime, disturbed by the mystery which surrounded it, they hidtheir impressions. Each, on his part, studied the probability of hissuspicions, and kept his opinion to himself.

  M. Domini, as he ate, put his notes in order, numbering the leaves,marking certain peculiarly significant answers of the suspected personswith a cross. He was, perhaps, the least tormented of the fourcompanions at this funereal repast. The crime did not seem to him one ofthose which keep judges of instruction sleepless through the night; hesaw clearly the motive of it; and he had Bertaud and Guespin, two of theassassins, or at least accomplices, secure.

  M. Plantat and Dr. Gendron, seated next each other, were talking of theillness which carried off Sauvresy. M. Courtois listened to the hubbubwithout.

  The news of the double murder was soon noised about the neighborhood,and the crowd increased every minute. It filled the court, and becamebolder and bolder; the gendarmes were overwhelmed. Then or never was thetime for the mayor to show his authority. "I am going to make thesepeople listen to reason," said he, "and make them retire." And at once,wiping his mouth, he threw his tumbled napkin on the table, and wentout.

  It was time. The brigadier's injunctions were no longer heeded. Somecurious people, more eager than the rest, had flanked the position andwere forcing an entrance through the gate leading to the garden. Themayor's presence did not perhaps intimidate the crowd much, but itredoubled the energy of the gendarmes; the vestibule was cleared, amidmurmurings against the arm of the law. What a chance for a speech! M.Courtois was not wanting to the occasion. He believed that hiseloquence, endowed with the virtues of a cold showerbath, would calmthis unwonted effervescence of his constituency. He stepped forward uponthe steps, his left hand resting in the opening of his vest, gesturingwith his right in the proud and impassible attitude which the sculptorlends to great orators. It was thus that he posed before his councilwhen, finding unexpected opposition, he undertook to impose his willupon them, and recall the recalcitrant members to their duty.

  His speech, in fragments, penetrated to the dining-room. According as heturned to the right or to the left, his voice was clear and distinct, orwas lost in space. He said:

  "Fellow-citizens, an atrocious crime, unheard of before in our commune,has shocked our peaceable and honest neighborhood. I understand andexcuse your feverish emotion, your natural indignation. As well as you,my friends, more than you--I cherished and esteemed the noble Count deTremorel, and his virtuous wife. We mourn them together--"

  "I assure you," said Dr. Gendron to M. Plantat, "that the symptoms youdescribe are not uncommon after pleurisy. From the acute state, theinflammation passes to the chronic state, and becomes complicated withpneumonia."

  "But nothing," pursued the mayor, "can justify a curiosity, which by itsimportunate attempts to be satisfied, embarrasses the investigation, andis, at all events, a punishable interference with the cause of justice.Why this unwonted gathering? Why these rumors and noises? Thesepremature conjectures?"

  "There were several consultations," said M. Plantat, "which did not havefavorable results. Sauvresy suffered altogether strange andunaccountable tortures. He complained of troubles so unwonted, soabsurd, if you'll excuse the word, that he discouraged all theconjectures of the most experienced physicians."

  "Was it not R---, of Paris, who attended him?"

  "Exactly. He came daily, and often remained overnight. Many times I haveseen him ascending the principal street of the village, with troubledcountenance, as he went to give his prescription to the apothecary.

  "Be wise enough," cried M. Courtois, "to moderate your just anger; becalm; be dignified."

  "Surely," continued Dr. Gendron, "your apothecary is an intelligent man;but you have at Orcival a fellow who quite outdoes him, a fellow whoknows how to make money; one Robelot--"

  "Robelot, the bone-setter?"

  "That's the man. I suspect him of giving consultations, and prescribingsub rosa. He is very clever. In fact I educated him. Five or six yearsago, he was my laboratory boy, and even now I employ him when I have adelicate operation on hand--"

  The doctor stopped, struck by the alteration in the impassible Plantat'sfeatures.

  "What is the matter, my friend?" he asked. "Are you ill?"

  The judge left his notes, to look at him. "Why," said he, "MonsieurPlantat is very pale--"

  But M. Plantat speedily resumed his habitual expression.

  "'Tis nothing," he answered, "really nothing. With my abominablestomach, as soon as I change my hour of eating--"

  Having reached his peroration, M. Courtois raised his voice.

  "Return," said he, "to your peaceable homes, your quiet avocations. Restassured the law protects you. Already justice has begun its work; two ofthe criminals are in its power, and we are on the track of theiraccomplices."

  "Of all the servants of the chateau," remarked M. Plantat, "thereremains not one who knew Sauvresy. The domestics have one by one beenreplaced."

  "No doubt," answered the doctor, "the sight of the old servants would bedisagreeable to Monsieur de Tremorel."

  He was interrupted by the mayor, who re-entered, his eyes glowing, hisface animated, wiping his forehead.

  "I have let the people know," said he, "the indecency of theircuriosity. They have all gone away. They were anxious to get at PhilippeBertaud, the brigadier says; public opinion has a sharp scent."

  Hearing the door open, he turned, and found himself face to face with aman whose features were scarcely visible, so profoundly did he bow, hishat pressed against his breast.

  "What do you wish?" sternly asked M. Courtois. "By what right have youcome in here?--Who are you?"

  The man drew himself up.

  "I am Monsieur Lecoq," he replied, with a gracious smile. "MonsieurLecoq of the detective force, sent by the prefect of police in reply toa telegram, for this affair."

  This declaration clearly surprised all present, even the judge ofinstruction.

  In France, each profession has its special externals, as it were,insignia, which betray it at first view. Each profession has itsconventional type, and when public opinion has adopted a type, it doesnot admit it possible that the type should be departed from. What is adoctor? A grave man, all in black, with a white cravat. A gentleman witha capacious stomach, adorned with heavy gold seals, can only be abanker. Everybody knows that the artist is a merry liver, with a peakedhat, a velvet vest, and enormous ruffles. By virtue of this rule, thedetective of the prefecture ought to have an eye full of mystery,something suspicious about him, a negligence of dress, and imitationjewelry. The most obtuse shopkeeper is sure that he can scent adetective at twenty paces a big man with mustaches, and a shining felthat, his throat imprisoned by a collar of hair, dressed in a black,threadbare surtout, carefully buttoned up on account of the entireabsence of linen. Such is the type. But, according to this, M. Lecoq, ashe entered the dining-room at Valfeuillu, had by no means the air of adetective. True, M. Lecoq can assume whatever air he pleases. Hisfriends declare that he has a physiognomy peculiar to himself, which heresumes when he enters his own house, and which he retains by his ownfireside, with his slippers on; but the fact is not well proved. What iscertain, is that his mobile face lends itself to strange metamorphoses;that he moulds his features according to his will, as the sculptormoulds clay for modelling. He changes everything, even his look.

&n
bsp; "So," said the judge of instruction, "the prefect has sent you to me, incase certain investigations become necessary."

  "Yes, Monsieur, quite at your service."

  M. Lecoq had on this day assumed a handsome wig of lank hair, of thatvague color called Paris blonde, parted on the side by a linepretentiously fanciful; whiskers of the same color puffed out with badpomade, encircled a pallid face. His big eyes seemed congealed withintheir red border, an open smile rested on his thick lips, which, inparting, discovered a range of long yellow teeth. His face, otherwise,expressed nothing in particular. It was a nearly equal mixture oftimidity, self-sufficiency, and contentment. It was quite impossible toconcede the least intelligence to the possessor of such a phiz. Oneinvoluntarily looked for a goitre. The retail haberdashers, who, havingcheated for thirty years in their threads and needles, retire with largeincomes, should have such heads as this. His apparel was as dull as hisperson. His coat resembled all coats, his trousers all trousers. A hairchain, the same color as his whiskers, was attached to a large silverwatch, which bulged out his left waistcoat pocket. While speaking, hefumbled with a confection-box made of transparent horn, full of littlesquare lozenges, and adorned by a portrait of a very homely,well-dressed woman--"the defunct," no doubt. As the conversationproceeded, according as he was satisfied or disturbed, M. Lecoq muncheda lozenge, or directed glances toward the portrait which were quite apoem in themselves.

  Having examined the man a long time, the judge of instruction shruggedhis shoulders. "Well," said M. Domini, finally, "now that you are here,we will explain to you what has occurred."

  "Oh, that's quite useless," responded Lecoq, with a satisfied air,"perfectly useless, sir."

  "Nevertheless, it is necessary that you should know--"

  "What? that which monsieur the judge knows?" interrupted the detective,"for that I already know. Let us agree there has been a murder, withtheft as its motive; and start from that point. The countess's body hasbeen found--not so that of the count. What else? Bertaud, anacknowledged rogue, is arrested; he merits a little punishment,doubtless. Guespin came back drunk; ah, there are sad charges againstthis Guespin! His past is deplorable; it is not known where he passedthe night, he refuses to answer, he brings no alibi--this is indeedgrave!"

  M. Plantat gazed at the detective with visible pleasure.

  "Who has told you about these things?" asked M. Domini.

  "Well--everybody has told me a little."

  "But where?"

  "Here: I've already been here two hours, and even heard the mayor'sspeech."

  And, satisfied with the effect he had produced, M. Lecoq munched alozenge.

  "You were not aware, then," resumed the judge, "that I was waiting foryou?"

  "Pardon me," said the detective; "I hope you will be kind enough to hearme. You see, it is indispensable to study the ground; one must lookabout, establish his batteries. I am anxious to catch the generalrumor--public opinion, as they say, so as to distrust it."

  "All this," answered M. Domini, severely, "does not justify your delay."

  M. Lecoq glanced tenderly at the portrait.

  "Monsieur the judge," said he, "has only to inquire at the prefecture,and he will learn that I know my profession. The great thing requisite,in order to make an effective search, is to remain unknown. The policeare not popular. Now, if they knew who I was, and why I was here, Imight go out, but nobody would tell me anything; I might askquestions--they'd serve me a hundred lies; they would distrust me, andhold their tongues."

  "Quite true--quite true," murmured Plantat, coming to the support of thedetective.

  M. Lecoq went on:

  "So that when I was told that I was going into the country, I put on mycountry face and clothes. I arrive here and everybody, on seeing me,says to himself, 'Here's a curious bumpkin, but not a bad fellow.' ThenI slip about, listen, talk, make the rest talk! I ask this question andthat, and am answered frankly; I inform myself, gather hints, no onetroubles himself about me. These Orcival folks are positively charming;why, I've already made several friends, and am invited to dine this veryevening."

  M. Domini did not like the police, and scarcely concealed it. He rathersubmitted to their co-operation than accepted it, solely because hecould not do without them. While listening to M. Lecoq, he could not butapprove of what he said; yet he looked at him with an eye by no meansfriendly.

  "Since you know so much about the matter," observed he, dryly, "we willproceed to examine the scene of the crime."

  "I am quite at Monsieur the judge's orders," returned the detective,laconically. As everyone was getting up, he took the opportunity tooffer M. Plantat his lozenge-box.

  "Monsieur perhaps uses them?"

  Plantat, unwilling to decline, appropriated a lozenge, and thedetective's face became again serene. Public sympathy was necessary tohim, as it is to all great comedians.