Monsieur Lecoq, v. 1

by Emile Gaboriau

  XVI

  The extreme uncertainty of the result was another attraction for M.Segmuller's investigating mind. Given the magnitude of the difficultiesthat were to be overcome, he rightly considered that if his effortsproved successful, he would have achieved a really wonderful victory.And, assisted by such a man as Lecoq, who had a positive genius for hiscalling, and in whom he recognized a most valuable auxiliary, he reallyfelt confident of ultimate success.

  Even on returning home after the fatiguing labors of the day he did notthink of freeing himself from the burden of responsibility in relationto the business he had on hand, or of driving away care until themorrow. He dined in haste, and as soon as he had swallowed his coffeebegan to study the case with renewed ardor. He had brought from hisoffice a copy of the prisoner's narrative, which he attentively perused,not once or twice, but several times, seeking for some weak point thatmight be attacked with a probability of success. He analyzed everyanswer, and weighed one expression after another, striving, as he didso, to find some flaw through which he might slip a question calculatedto shatter the structure of defense. He worked thus, far into the night,and yet he was on his legs again at an early hour in the morning. Byeight o'clock he was not merely dressed and shaved, he had not merelytaken his matutinal chocolate and arranged his papers, but he wasactually on his way to the Palais de Justice. He had quite forgottenthat his own impatience was not shared by others.

  In point of fact, the Palais de Justice was scarcely awake when hearrived there. The doors had barely opened. The attendants were busysweeping and dusting; or changing their ordinary garments for theirofficial costumes. Some of them standing in the windows of the longdressing room were shaking and brushing the judges' and advocates'gowns; while in the great hall several clerks stood in a group, chaffingeach other while waiting for the arrival of the head registrar and theopening of the investigation offices.

  M. Segmuller thought that he had better begin by consulting the publicprosecutor, but he discovered that this functionary had not yet arrived.Angry and impatient, he proceeded to his own office; and with his eyesfixed on the clock, growled at the slowness of the minute hand. Justafter nine o'clock, Goguet, the smiling clerk, put in an appearance andspeedily learned the kind of humor his master was in.

  "Ah, you've come at last," gruffly ejaculated M. Segmuller, momentarilyoblivious of the fact that he himself scarcely ever arrived before ten,and that a quarter-past nine was certainly early for his clerk.

  Goguet's curiosity had indeed prompted him to hurry to the Palais;still, although well aware that he did not deserve a reprimand, heendeavored to mumble an excuse--an excuse cut short by M. Segmullerin such unusually harsh tones that for once in a way Goguet's habitualsmile faded from his face. "It's evident," thought he, "that the wind'sblowing from a bad quarter this morning," with which reflectionhe philosophically put on his black sleeves and going to his tablepretended to be absorbed in the task of mending his pens and preparinghis paper.

  In the mean while, M. Segmuller who was usually calmness personified,and dignity par excellence, paced restlessly to and fro. At times hewould sit down and then suddenly spring to his feet again, gesticulatingimpatiently as he did so. Indeed, he seemed unable to remain quiet for amoment.

  "The prosecution is evidently making no headway," thought the clerk."May's prospects are encouraging." Owing to the magistrate's harshreception the idea delighted him; and, indeed, letting his rancor havethe upper hand, Goguet actually offered up a prayer that the prisonermight get the better of the fight.

  From half-past nine till ten o'clock M. Segmuller rang for his messengerat least five times, and each time he asked him the same questions: "Areyou sure that M. Lecoq has not been here this morning? Inquire! If hehas not been here he must certainly have sent some one, or else havewritten to me."

  Each time the astonished doorkeeper replied: "No one has been here, andthere is no letter for you."

  Five identical negative answers to the same inquiries only increased themagistrate's wrath and impatience. "It is inconceivable!" he exclaimed."Here I am upon coals of fire, and that man dares to keep me waiting.Where can he be?"

  At last he ordered a messenger to go and see if he could not find Lecoqsomewhere in the neighborhood; perhaps in some restaurant or cafe. "Atall events, he must be found and brought back immediately," said he.

  When the man had started, M. Segmuller began to recover his composure."We must not lose valuable time," he said to his clerk. "I was toexamine the widow Chupin's son. I had better do so now. Go and tell themto bring him to me. Lecoq left the order at the prison."

  In less than a quarter of an hour Polyte entered the room. From head tofoot, from his lofty silk cap to his gaudy colored carpet slippers,he was indeed the original of the portrait upon which poor Toinon theVirtuous had lavished such loving glances. And yet the photograph wasflattering. The lens had failed to convey the expression of low cunningthat distinguished the man's features, the impudence of his leeringsmile, and the mingled cowardice and ferocity of his eyes, which neverlooked another person in the face. Nor could the portrait depict theunwholesome, livid pallor of his skin, the restless blinking of hiseyelids, and the constant movement of his thin lips as he drew themtightly over his short, sharp teeth. There was no mistaking his nature;one glance and he was estimated at his worth.

  When he had answered the preliminary questions, telling the magistratethat he was thirty years of age, and that he had been born in Paris, heassumed a pretentious attitude and waited to see what else was coming.

  But before proceeding with the real matter in hand, M. Segmuller wishedto relieve the complacent scoundrel of some of his insulting assurance.Accordingly, he reminded Polyte, in forcible terms, that his sentencein the affair in which he was now implicated would depend very much uponhis behavior and answers during the present examination.

  Polyte listened with a nonchalant and even ironical air. In fact, thisindirect threat scarcely touched him. Having previously made inquirieshe had ascertained that he could not be condemned to more than sixmonths' imprisonment for the offense for which he had been arrested; andwhat did a month more or less matter to him?

  The magistrate, who read this thought in Polyte's eyes, cut his preambleshort. "Justice," said he, "now requires some information from youconcerning the frequenters of your mother's establishment."

  "There are a great many of them, sir," answered Polyte in a harsh voice.

  "Do you know one of them named Gustave?"

  "No, sir."

  To insist would probably awaken suspicion in Polyte's mind; accordingly,M. Segmuller continued: "You must, however, remember Lacheneur?"

  "Lacheneur? No, this is the first time I've heard that name."

  "Take care. The police have means of finding out a great many things."

  The scapegrace did not flinch. "I am telling the truth, sir," heretorted. "What interest could I possibly have in deceiving you?"

  Scarcely had he finished speaking than the door suddenly opened andToinon the Virtuous entered the room, carrying her child in her arms.On perceiving her husband, she uttered a joyful exclamation, and sprangtoward him. But Polyte, stepping back, gave her such a threateningglance that she remained rooted to the spot.

  "It must be an enemy who pretends that I know any one named Lacheneur!"cried the barriere bully. "I should like to kill the person who utteredsuch a falsehood. Yes, kill him; I will never forgive it."

  The messenger whom M. Segmuller had instructed to go in search of Lecoqwas not at all displeased with the errand; for it enabled him to leavehis post and take a pleasant little stroll through the neighborhood. Hefirst of all proceeded to the Prefecture of Police, going the longestway round as a matter of course, but, on reaching his destination, hecould find no one who had seen the young detective.

  Accordingly, M. Segmuller's envoy retraced his steps, and leisurelysauntered through the restaurants, cafes, and wine shops installed inthe vicinity of the Palais de Justice, and dependent on the
customersit brought them. Being of a conscientious turn of mind, he enteredeach establishment in succession and meeting now and again variousacquaintances, he felt compelled to proffer and accept numerous glassesof the favorite morning beverage--white wine. Turn which way he would,however, loiter as long as he might, there were still no signs of Lecoq.He was returning in haste, a trifle uneasy on account of the lengthof his absence, when he perceived a cab pull up in front of the Palaisgateway. A second glance, and oh, great good fortune, he saw Lecoq,Father Absinthe, and the virtuous Toinon alight from this very vehicle.His peace of mind at once returned; and it was in a very important andsomewhat husky tone that he delivered the order for Lecoq to follow himwithout a minute's delay. "M. Segmuller has asked for you a number oftimes," said he, "He has been extremely impatient, and he is in a verybad humor, so you may expect to have your head snapped off in the mostexpeditious manner."

  Lecoq smiled as he went up the stairs. Was he not bringing with him themost potent of justifications? He thought of the agreeable surprise hehad in store for the magistrate, and fancied he could picture the suddenbrightening of that functionary's gloomy face.

  And yet, fate so willed it that the doorkeeper's message and his urgentappeal that Lecoq should not loiter on the way, produced the mostunfortunate results. Believing that M. Segmuller was anxiously waitingfor him, Lecoq saw nothing wrong in opening the door of the magistrate'sroom without previously knocking; and being anxious to justify hisabsence, he yielded, moreover, to the impulse that led him to pushforward the poor woman whose testimony might prove so decisive. When hesaw, however, that the magistrate was not alone, and when he recognizedPolyte Chupin--the original of the photograph--in the man M. Segmullerwas examining, his stupefaction became intense. He instantly perceivedhis mistake and understood its consequences.

  There was only one thing to be done. He must prevent any exchange ofwords between the two. Accordingly, springing toward Toinon and seizingher roughly by the arm, he ordered her to leave the room at once. Butthe poor creature was quite overcome, and trembled like a leaf. Hereyes were fixed upon her unworthy husband, and the happiness she felt atseeing him again shone plainly in her anxious gaze. Just for one second;and then she caught his withering glance and heard his words of menace.Terror-stricken, she staggered back, and then Lecoq seized her aroundthe waist, and, lifting her with his strong arms, carried her out intothe passage. The whole scene had been so brief that M. Segmuller wasstill forming the order for Toinon to be removed from the room, when hefound the door closed again, and himself and Goguet alone with Polyte.

  "Ah, ah!" thought the smiling clerk, in a flutter of delight, "this issomething new." But as these little diversions never made him forget hisduties, he leaned toward the magistrate and asked: "Shall I take downthe last words the witness uttered?"

  "Certainly," replied M. Segmuller, "and word for word, if you please."

  He paused; the door opened again, this time to admit the magistrate'smessenger, who timidly, and with a rather guilty air, handed his mastera note, and then withdrew. This note, scribbled in pencil by Lecoq on aleaf torn from his memorandum book, gave the magistrate the name ofthe woman who had just entered his room, and recapitulated briefly butclearly the information obtained in the Rue de la Butte-aux-Cailles.

  "That young fellow thinks of everything!" murmured M. Segmuller. Themeaning of the scene that had just occurred was now explained to him. Heunderstood everything.

  He bitterly regretted this unfortunate meeting; at the same time castingthe blame on his own impatience and lack of caution, which, as soon asthe messenger had started in search of Lecoq, had induced him to summonPolyte Chupin. Although he could not conceal from himself the enormousinfluence this seemingly trivial incident might have, still he would notallow himself to be cast down, but prepared to resume his examination ofPolyte Chupin in hopes of yet obtaining the information he desired.

  "Let us proceed," he said to Polyte, who had not moved since hiswife had been taken from the room, being to all appearances sublimelyindifferent to everything passing around him. To the magistrate'sproposal he carelessly nodded assent.

  "Was that your wife who came in just now?" asked M. Segmuller.

  "Yes."

  "She wished to embrace you, and you repulsed her."

  "I didn't repulse her."

  "You kept her at a distance at all events. If you had a spark ofaffection in your nature, you would at least have looked at your child,which she held out to you. Why did you behave in that manner?"

  "It wasn't the time for sentiment."

  "You are not telling the truth. You simply desired to attract herattention, to influence her evidence."

  "I--I influence her evidence! I don't understand you."

  "But for that supposition, your words would have been meaningless?"

  "What words?"

  The magistrate turned to his clerk: "Goguet," said he, "read the lastremark you took down."

  In a monotonous voice, the smiling clerk repeated: "I should like tokill the person who dared to say that I knew Lacheneur."

  "Well, then!" insisted M. Segmuller, "what did you mean by that?"

  "It's very easy to understand, sir."

  M. Segmuller rose. "Don't prevaricate any longer," he said. "Youcertainly ordered your wife not to say anything about Lacheneur. That'sevident. Why did you do so? What are you afraid of her telling us?Do you suppose the police are ignorant of your acquaintance withLacheneur--of your conversation with him when he came in a cab to thecorner of the waste ground near your mother's wine-shop; and of thehopes of fortune you based upon his promises? Be guided by me; confesseverything, while there is yet time; and abandon the present coursewhich may lead you into serious danger. One may be an accomplice in moreways than one."

  As these words fell on Polyte's ears, it was evident his impudence andindifference had received a severe shock. He seemed confounded, andhung his head as if thoroughly abashed. Still, he preserved an obstinatesilence; and the magistrate finding that this last thrust had failed toproduce any effect, gave up the fight in despair. He rang the bell, andordered the guard to conduct the witness back to prison, and to takeevery precaution to prevent him seeing his wife again.

  When Polyte had departed, Lecoq reentered the room. "Ah, sir," said he,despondently, "to think that I didn't draw out of this woman everythingshe knew, when I might have done so easily. But I thought you would bewaiting for me, and made haste to bring her here. I thought I was actingfor the best--"

  "Never mind, the misfortune can be repaired."

  "No, sir, no. Since she has seen her husband, it is quite impossibleto get her to speak. She loves that rascal intensely, and he has awonderful influence over her. You heard what he said. He threatenedher with death if she breathed a word about Lacheneur, and she is soterrified that there is no hope of making her speak."

  Lecoq's apprehension was based on fact, as M, Segmuller himselfperceived the instant Toinon the Virtuous again set foot in his office.The poor creature seemed nearly heartbroken, and it was evident shewould have given her life to retract the words that had escaped her whenfirst questioned by Lecoq. Polyte's threat had aroused the most sinisterapprehensions in her mind. Not understanding his connection withthe affair, she asked herself if her testimony might not prove hisdeath-warrant. Accordingly, she answered all M. Segmuller's questionswith "no" or "I don't know"; and retracted everything she had previouslystated to Lecoq. She swore that she had been misunderstood, that herwords had been misconstrued; and vowed on her mother's memory, that shehad never heard the name of Lacheneur before. At last, she burst intowild, despairing sobs, and pressed her frightened child against herbreast.

  What could be done to overcome this foolish obstinacy, as blind andunreasoning as a brute's? M. Segmuller hesitated. "You may retire, mygood woman," said he kindly, after a moment's pause, "but remember thatyour strange silence injures your husband far more than anything youcould say."

  She left the room--or rather she rushed wildly fro
m it as though onlytoo eager to escape--and the magistrate and the detective exchangedglances of dismay and consternation.

  "I said so before," thought Goguet, "the prisoner knows what he's about.I would be willing to bet a hundred to one in his favor."

  A French investigating magistrate is possessed of almost unlimitedpowers. No one can hamper him, no one can give him orders. The entirepolice force is at his disposal. One word from him and twenty agents, ora hundred if need be, search Paris, ransack France, or explore Europe.If there be any one whom he believes able to throw light upon an obscurepoint, he simply sends an order to that person to appear before him, andthe man must come even if he lives a hundred leagues away.

  Such is the magistrate, such are his powers. On the other hand, theprisoner charged with a crime, but as yet un-convicted, is confined,unless his offense be of a trivial description, in what is called a"secret cell." He is, so to say, cut off from the number of the living.He knows nothing of what may be going on in the world outside. He cannot tell what witnesses may have been called, or what they may havesaid, and in his uncertainty he asks himself again and again how far theprosecution has been able to establish the charges against him.

  Such is the prisoner's position, and yet despite the fact that thetwo adversaries are so unequally armed, the man in the secret cell notunfrequently wins the victory. If he is sure that he has left behindhim no proof of his having committed the crime; if he has no guiltyantecedents to be afraid of, he can--impregnable in a defense ofabsolute denial--brave all the attacks of justice.

  Such was, at this moment, the situation of May, the mysterious murderer;as both M. Segmuller and Lecoq were forced to admit, with mingled griefand anger. They had hoped to arrive at a solution of the problem byexamining Polyte Chupin and his wife, and they had been disappointed;for the prisoner's identity remained as problematical as ever.

  "And yet," exclaimed the magistrate impatiently, "these people knowsomething about this matter, and if they would only speak--"

  "But they won't."

  "What motive is it that keeps them silent? This is what we mustdiscover. Who will tell us the price that has been promised PolyteChupin for his silence? What recompense can he count upon? It must be agreat one, for he is braving real danger!"

  Lecoq did not immediately reply to the magistrate's successive queries,but it was easy to see from his knit brows that his mind was hard atwork. "You ask me, sir," he eventually remarked, "what reward hasbeen promised Chupin? I ask on my part who can have promised him thisreward?"

  "Who has promised it? Why, plainly the accomplice who has beaten us onevery point."

  "Yes," rejoined Lecoq, "I suppose it must have been he. It certainlylooks like his handiwork--now, what artifice can he have used? We knowhow he managed to have an interview with the Widow Chupin, but how hashe succeeded in getting at Polyte, who is in prison, closely watched?"

  The young detective's insinuation, vague as it was, did not escape M.Segmuller. "What do you mean?" asked the latter, with an air of mingledsurprise and indignation. "You can't suppose that one of the keepers hasbeen bribed?"

  Lecoq shook his head, in a somewhat equivocal manner. "I mean nothing,"he replied, "I don't suspect any one. All I want is information. HasChupin been forewarned or not?"

  "Yes, of course he has."

  "Then if that point is admitted it can only be explained in two ways.Either there are informers in the prison, or else Chupin has beenallowed to see some visitor."

  These suppositions evidently worried M. Segmuller, who for a momentseemed to hesitate between the two opinions; then, suddenly makingup his mind, he rose from his chair, took up his hat, and said: "Thismatter must be cleared up. Come with me, Monsieur Lecoq."

  A couple of minutes later, the magistrate and the detective had reachedthe Depot, which is connected with the Palais de Justice by a narrowpassage, especially reserved for official use. The prisoners' morningrations had just been served to them, and the governor was walking upand down the courtyard, in the company of Inspector Gevrol. As soon ashe perceived M. Segmuller he hastened toward him and asked if he had notcome about the prisoner May.

  As the magistrate nodded assent, the governor at once added: "Well I wasonly just now telling Inspector Gevrol that I was very well satisfiedwith May's behavior. It has not only been quite unnecessary to placehim in the strait-waistcoat again, but his mood seems to have changedentirely. He eats with a good appetite; he is as gay as a lark, and heconstantly laughs and jests with his keeper."

  Gevrol had pricked up his ears when he heard himself named by thegovernor, and considering this mention to be a sufficient introduction,he thought there would be no impropriety in his listening to theconversation. Accordingly, he approached the others, and noted withsome satisfaction the troubled glances which Lecoq and the magistrateexchanged.

  M. Segmuller was plainly perplexed. May's gay manner to which thegovernor of the Depot alluded might perhaps have been assumed for thepurpose of sustaining his character as a jester and buffoon, it might bedue to a certainty of defeating the judicial inquiry, or, who knows? theprisoner had perhaps received some favorable news from outside.

  With Lecoq's last words still ringing in his ears, it is no wonder thatthe magistrate should have dwelt on this last supposition. "Are youquite sure," he asked, "that no communication from outside can reach theinmates of the secret cells?"

  The governor of the Depot was cut to the quick by M. Segmuller's implieddoubt. What! were his subordinates suspected? Was his own professionalhonesty impugned? He could not help lifting his hands to heaven in muteprotest against such an unjust charge.

  "Am I sure?" he exclaimed. "Then you can never have visited the secretcells. You have no idea, then, of their situation; you are unacquaintedwith the triple bolts that secure the doors; the grating that shuts outthe sunlight, to say nothing of the guard who walks beneath the windowsday and night. Why, a bird couldn't even reach the prisoners in thosecells."

  Such a description was bound to reassure the most skeptical mind, and M.Segmuller breathed again: "Now that I am easy on that score," said he,"I should like some information about another prisoner--a fellow namedChupin, who isn't in the secret cells. I want to know if any visitorcame for him yesterday."

  "I must speak to the registrar," replied the governor, "before I cananswer you with certainty. Wait a moment though, here comes a man whocan perhaps tell us. He is usually on guard at the entrance. Here,Ferraud, this way!"

  The man to whom the governor called hastened to obey the summons.

  "Do you know whether any one asked to see the prisoner Chupinyesterday?"

  "Yes, sir, I went to fetch Chupin to the parlor myself."

  "And who was his visitor?" eagerly asked Lecoq, "wasn't he a tall man;very red in the face--"

  "Excuse me, sir, the visitor was a lady--his aunt, at least so Chupintold me."

  Neither M. Segmuller nor Lecoq could restrain an exclamation ofsurprise. "What was she like?" they both asked at the same time.

  "She was short," replied the attendant, "with a very fair complexion andlight hair; she seemed to be a very respectable woman."

  "It must have been one of the female fugitives who escaped from theWidow Chupin's hovel," exclaimed Lecoq.

  Gevrol, hitherto an attentive listener, burst into a loud laugh. "Stillthat Russian princess," said he.

  Neither the magistrate nor the young detective relished thisunseasonable jest. "You forget yourself, sir," said M. Segmullerseverely. "You forget that the sneers you address to your comrade alsoapply to me!"

  The General saw that he had gone too far; and while glancing hatefullyat Lecoq, he mumbled an apology to the magistrate. The latter did notapparently hear him, for, bowing to the governor, he motioned Lecoq tofollow him away.

  "Run to the Prefecture of Police," he said as soon as they were out ofhearing, "and ascertain how and under what pretext this woman obtainedpermission to see Polyte Chupin."