Rouletabille and the Mystery of the Yellow Room
Page 28
And thus did my friend Sherlock Holmes solve the murder of Lord Strongborough and save the life of a most gracious Lady. I have recorded this as an appendix to the case of Baron Maupertuis in the event that I ever decide to write it in full. But as Holmes mentioned, the case still contains some loose ends, and besides I know that my friend does not like me to write about him, so it is probably best to let it lie for the time being...
The village of Saint Paul de Vence in Provence was a jewel located in the hills above Nice. It was bright and beautiful this sunny afternoon of June. The sky was a deep penetrating blue and the quality of the light made every object stand out in sharp relief.
Lady Strongborough waited at the terrace of the single café that serviced the village, sipping on a grenadine. He had told her that he would be there precisely at 5 p.m. and she knew that he would not betray his word.
The village clock in the church tower tolled five.
“I deeply apologize for not being able to make it back in time,” said a voice from behind her.
He had appeared as if by magic. She had seen no car, heard no engine, yet there he was, looking very much like the Paul Dubreuil she had met 18 months earlier. He pulled out a chair and sat down. He gestured to the garçon to bring him a pastis.
“When did you get back?” she asked.
“Two months ago. I lost the lives of a couple of good men trying to reach Constantinople in time, but the Red Sultan barred my way. I knew, however, that if I could send that cable to Sherlock Holmes, he, of all people, would have both the mental abilities and the power to rescue you. I was thrilled to discover upon my return to Marseilles that I hadn’t been mistaken. I never would have forgiven myself if...”
She put her hand on his to dispel the ghastly image of the fate that they knew had almost been hers.
“Mister Holmes said that you knew more about this case than he had uncovered,” Lady Strongborough said.
“How perceptive of him,” he smiled. “His mind is as penetrating as ever. Yes, the trick that the so-called Dr. Taylor used, that bit of misdirection, of sleight of hand, reminded me of another case, one that was much covered in the Press, three years ago. The Affair of Chateau Glandier a.k.a. The Mystery of the Yellow Room. The murderer was exposed as Ballmeyer, an international criminal of the first order. We never met but I like to keep an eye on the competition. I knew that he had been in America, at the same time as your late husband, and that he would have been familiar with poisons found on that Continent. He also had been in London in 1901 and was implicated in a murky business of stolen bonds... But more to the point, when he was finally unmasked by a young reporter from L’Epoque at the end of the Yellow Room case, we discovered that Ballmeyer had had the prodigious idea of masquerading as an Inspector of the Sûreté, Frederic Larsan! What a stroke of genius! Ballmeyer, a man wanted by half the police forces of Europe and America, was hiding in plain sight in the French Sûreté! You have to admire that inventiveness! Why, I was almost jealous!”
“So Dr. Taylor was Ballmeyer?”
“Yes. And Ballmeyer was Frederic Larsan, and I knew that Larsan had been involved in the famous case of the gold bullion robbery of the Hôtel de la Monnaie, in which, if you recall, your stepfather, Paul Darcieux, Baron Maupertuis, was one of the suspects.”
“Yes, that’s true... I remember. He was one of the Trustees, but was cleared of all suspicion.”
“By Frederic Larsan, his accomplice, the man who likely devised the whole scheme and used his position as Inspector of the Sûreté to frame an innocent man. You see, it all ties together. So, I asked myself, what if Ballmeyer-Larsan was up to his old tricks again, seeking to kill two birds with one stone: he murders your husband to cover his tracks with the Jockey Club, and he pins the blame on you to have you hung afterwards. If Lord Strongborough had been the only intended victim, I have no doubt that Ballmeyer could have dispatched him quickly and easily. Why resort to such a complicated scheme? Because he wanted you dead as well. Why? Ask yourself: who would have profited from your death?”
“My stepfather! He’s the only family I have.”
“Indeed. We’re drawn back to the Ballmeyer-Darcieux connection. So, one of the first things I did upon my return to this country was to check your stepfather’s fate. And I wasn’t surprised to discover that someone had organized his escape soon after his extradition to France.”
“Oh my God! He’s free?”
“Don’t fear, Jeanne. I would have taken steps, but I had no need. They say there’s no honor among thieves, you know... They found an unidentified body not far from here, which I know to be Paul Darcieux. There is no doubt in my mind that when Holmes exposed Ballmeyer, and his plans to have you hung failed, Ballmeyer killed your stepfather.”
“And Ballmeyer?”
“My inquiries lead me to believe that the same young journalist who exposed him the first time is back on his case. He has a brilliant mind, almost as good as Sherlock Holmes, to tell the truth. And he can be quite ruthless, under his college boy manners. I hope we never cross swords. I have no doubt he’ll deal with Ballmeyer—definitively.”
“You see, Sainclair, I had only condemned Larsan to life in prison, but he killed himself! It was God’s will. May God have mercy on his soul!”
Joseph Rouletabille revealing Ballmeyer’s fate
to his friend Sainclair at the conclusion of
The Perfume of the Lady in Black,
Summer 1905.
Afterword
Rouletabille: A Genius for Good
“It was as if Nature, in its infinite wisdom, after having created a Father who was a Genius for Evil,
had created a Son who was a Genius for Good.”
(The Perfume of the Lady in Black–Chapter 4)
The leading feuilletoniste of the Belle Epoque was Gaston Leroux (1868-1927), a writer best known for his classic Le Fantôme de l’Opéra [The Phantom of the Opera] (1910),18 the tragic yet murderous man-ape Balaoo (1911) and the adventures of Chéri-Bibi, a man unjustly pursued by a hostile fate (1913, 1919).19
Trained as a lawyer, Leroux was a renowned investigative journalist who even travelled to, and reported from, Russia just before the Communist Bolshevik Revolution.
His journalistic skills helped French fantastique literature to emerge from the melodramatic, overly romantic style of the end of the 19th century, and, by making it more real and contemporary, gave it a new lease on life.
Leroux’s literary idols being Alexandre Dumas and Paul Féval, it was no surprise that he felt equally comfortable chronicling extravagant tales of murder, revenge, masked men, swooning women, mysterious dwarves and secret societies meeting in underground caverns, with or without fantastic elements, not unlike American pulps and serials of the 1930s.
Today, Gaston Leroux is best remembered in France as the author of a series of mystery novels starring the character of dashing young journalist, Joseph Rouletabille (initially named “Boitabille”), clearly an idealized projection of the author, and conceived as a direct challenge to Conan Doyle. Like C. Auguste Dupin, Monsieur Lecoq, Sherlock Holmes and Hercule Poirot, Rouletabille solved his cases by pure deductive reasoning, what he called the “good bit of reason.” He drew a figurative circle around the facts that were known, and excluded everything that was not part of that circle, even if, to others, they appeared to be.
In the first Rouletabille novel, Le Mystère de la Chambre Jaune [The Mystery of the Yellow Room], the hero solved an attempted murder in a locked room. In that book, Leroux revealed that “Rouletabille” was the nickname of 18-year-old journalist Joseph Josephin, who was raised in a religious orphanage in Eu, a small town on the western coast of France, near Fecamp.
It turned out that Rouletabille’s father was none other than Ballmeyer, an international criminal of great repute and many identities. As Jean Roussel, Ballmeyer had married a rich American heiress, Mathilde Stangerson, the “Lady in Black,” who was, therefore, Rouletabille’s mother.
&nbs
p; In a tragic twist of fate, Rouletabille unmasked Ballmeyer, who was hiding under the guise of French Sûreté detective Frederic Larsan, in 1902, and saved his mother from his father’s evil designs.
Ballmeyer returned in Le Parfum de la Dame en Noir [The Perfume of the Lady in Black]. At the end of the story, which took place in a castle by the sea in Southern France, Ballmeyer died, freeing Rouletabille from the evil shadow of the past.
Soon afterwards, in Rouletabille chez le Tsar [Rouletabille and the Czar], Rouletabille was summoned to Russia by the Czar, where he solved a murder at the Imperial Court.
Then, there is a break in continuity. In Rouletabille à la Guerre [Rouletabille at War], which takes place contemporaneously, i.e.: circa 1914, the fearless journalist married the beautiful Ivana Vilitchkov and defeated the mad Turk warlord Gaulow, Lord of the Black Castle.
There is an irreconcilable dating problem with the first Rouletabille novels: Yellow Room was stated by Leroux as taking place in 1892, and its sequel, Perfume, “a little over two years later,” i.e.: in 1895. Yet, the subsequent novels refer to contemporaneous events, and Rouletabille has not aged ten years between Perfume and Tsar. So 1902 has therefore become the accepted dating for The Mystery of the Yellow Room. And 1905 for The Perfume of the Lady in Black.
In Rouletabille chez Krupp [Rouletabille at Krupp’s], Rouletabille became a French secret agent and infiltrated the Krupp factories. Aside from John Buchan’s Richard Hannay novels, this was one of the first, modern treatments of the espionage thriller. In the end, like a proto-James Bond, Rouletabille saved Paris from being annihilated by a German super-missile.
In Le Crime de Rouletabille [The Crime of Rouletabille], the detective was almost framed for Ivana’s murder. Then, in Rouletabille chez les Bohémiens [Rouletabille and the Gypsies], Rouletabille helped recover a sacred book stolen from the gypsies and managed to thwart the evil schemes of the deadly Madame de Mayrens, a.k.a. La Pieuvre [The Octopus], the secret identity of whom we shall not spoil here.
There is a literary connection between The Phantom of the Opera, The Double Life of Théophraste Longuet and The Crime of Rouletabille in that all these novels feature a police official named Mifroid. There is a reference in The Double Life... (which begins in 1899) that Mifroid joined the police after the events of Phantom “ten years ago,” yet Phantom takes place in 1880, so there is an inconsistency. Finally, The Crime of Rouletabille takes place 20 years after The Double Life... (40 years after Phantom), so it is unlikely that it could be the same Mifroid...
Jean-Marc Lofficier
Notes
1 Nietzsche followed this example by contrasting Wagner’s misty tretralogy with the hot-blooded operas of Bizet.
2 (1889-1963) Poet, novelist, playwright and director, the author of Beauty and the Beast and Orpheus. (Note from the Publisher.)
3 When Leroux wrote The Mystery of the Yellow Room in 1907, he clearly intended the story to take place 15 years prior, i.e.: in 1892. Its sequel, The Perfume of the Lady in Black, takes place “a little over two years later,” in 1895. However, soon after, Leroux decided to make the Rouletabille saga contemporary with current events, forcing us to relocate the events of Yellow Room to 1902 and those of Perfume to 1905, despite the topical references. The original dates have been left unchanged in the text, but should, in light of Leroux’s later change in dating more properly, read “five years ago,” “1902,” etc. (Note from the Publisher.)
4 In 1895, the Marquis de Nayve was accused of murdering little Menaldo, the illegitimate son of his wife and spent 18 months in jail. On November 14, he was finally acquitted of the murder, but convicted of cruelty to his wife and children and sentended to six months’ imprisonment (time served) and a fine of 200 francs. (Note from the Publisher.)
5 In French, a marble is a bille, and roule ta bille means shooting one’s marble into the ring. Likely, this nickname also refers to Rouletabille constantly rushing around. (Note from the Publisher.)
6 Castigat ridendo mores is a latin maxim meaning “Comedy criticizes customs by laughing;” it is often attributed to Molière, although it was coined by poet Jean de Santeul.
7 Famous Paris theaters.
8 Sainte Genevieve (c.419-c.512). According to her hagiography, when Attila the Hun was preparing to ransack Paris in 451 AD, he was met outside the city by Genevieve, alone, and God-inspired resolve compelled the Scourge of God to turn away and spare the city. (He then attacked Orleans which was obviously unlucky to not have a residing saint.) Genevieve’s remains were kept in Paris at the Abbey bearing her name, then publicly burned in 1793 by the French Revolution, then housed at the Pantheon, erected on the spot of the old Abbey. They were dispersed again by the Communards in 1871. The Pantheon had since been reconsecrated to Sainte Genevieve, but the exact location of her relics is still unknown.
9 Acorn is gland in French.
10 Conan Doyle dealt with a similar type of mystery in The Speckled Band. A terrible murder is committed in a locked room. What happened to its perpetrator? Sherlock Holmes finds out when he discovers in the room a small airvent big big enough to let through the eponymous “Speckled Band”—a poisonous snake. (Note from the Author.)
11 I will remind the reader that I only copied Monsieur Maleine’s memoirs and that I did not attempt to alter his emphatic and somewhat grandiloquent prose style (Note from the Author.)
12 Sic!
13 Leroux is (purposefully?) misquoting Eugène Labiche’s vaudeville, Les Trente Millions de Gladiator (The Thirty Millions of Gladiator), whose lead character is named Dupuis, not Dupuy. (Note from the Publisher.)
14 When this mystery, thanks to Rouletabille, was eventually solved, through only the resource of his prodigious mind, we were able to realize that the perpetrator had indeed escaped not through a door, a window, nor the stairs—a fact which the police refused to accept. (Note from the Author.)
15 When he wrote these lines, Rouletabille was only 18, and yet he spoke of his “youth.” I haven’t changed what my friend wrote, but I feel obliged to point out to the reader that the Mystery of the Yellow Room bears no relation to that of the Perfume of the Lady in Black. It is not my fault if, in his notebooks, Rouletabille often likes to refer to events from his childhood. (Note from the Author.)
16 Phrenology is the science which studies the relationships between a person's character and the morphology of their skull. The analysis of the face, or physiognomy, was particularly studied by the 18th century Swiss author Johann Kaspar Lavater (1741-1801). True scientific phrenology, which established a direct link between the morphology of the skull and the human character, was discovered by the Austrian physician Franz Joseph Gall (1758-1828). It was Gall who established the foundations for an anatomic caracteriology. He was also one of the first scientists to consider the brain as the home of all mental activities. (Note from the Publisher)
17 “La Mort Qui Rôde” in The Confessions of Arsène Lupin.
18 Available from Black Coat Press, ISBN 9781932983135.
19 Stage play adaptation available from Black Coat Press, ISBN 9781934543436.
Bibliography:
1. Le Mystère de la Chambre Jaune [The Mystery of the Yellow Room] (serial. in L’Illustration, 1907; rep. Lafitte, 1908)
2. Le Parfum de la Dame en Noir [The Perfume of the Lady in Black] (serial. in L’Illustration, 1908; rep. Lafitte, 1909)
3. Rouletabille chez le Tsar [Rouletabille and the Czar] (serial. in L’Illustration, rep. Lafitte, 1913)
4. Rouletabille à la Guerre [Rouletabille at War] (serial. in Le Matin, 1914; rep. as 2 vols.: Le Château Noir [The Black Castle] and Les Etranges Noces de Rouletabille [The Strange Wedding of Rouletabille], Lafitte, 1916)
5. Rouletabille chez Krupp [Rouletabille at Krupp’s] (serial. in Je Sais Tout, 1917; rep. Lafitte, 1920)
6. Le Crime de Rouletabille [The Crime of Rouletabille] (serial. in Je Sais Tout, 1921; rep. Lafitte, 1923)
7. Rouletabille chez les Bohémiens [Rouletabille and
the Gypsies] (serial. in Le Matin, 1922; rev. Lafitte, 1923)
Authorized Sequels by Noré Brunel:
8. Rouletabille contre la Dame de Pique [Rouletabille vs. The Queen of Spades] (serial. in Le Soir, 1947)
9. Rouletabille Joue et Gagne [Rouletabille Plays and Wins] (serial. in Le Soir, 1947)
FRENCH MYSTERIES COLLECTION
M. Allain & P. Souvestre. The Daughter of Fantômas
A. Anicet-Bourgeois, Lucien Dabril. Rocambole
Guy d’Armen. Doc Ardan and The City of Gold and Lepers
A. Bernède. Belphegor
A. Bernède. Judex (w/Louis Feuillade)
A. Bernède. The Return of Judex (w/Louis Feuillade)
A. Bisson & G. Livet. Nick Carter vs. Fantômas
V. Darlay & H. de Gorsse. Lupin vs. Holmes: The Stage Play
Paul Feval. Gentlemen of the Night
Paul Feval. John Devil
Paul Feval. ’Salem Street
Paul Feval. The Invisible Weapon
Paul Feval. The Parisian Jungle
Paul Feval. The Companions of the Treasure
Paul Feval. Heart of Steel
Paul Feval. The Cadet Gang
Paul Feval. The Sword-Swallower
Emile Gaboriau. Monsieur Lecoq
Goron & Gautier. Spawn of the Penitentiary
Maurice Leblanc. Arsène Lupin vs. Countess Cagliostro
Maurice Leblanc. The Blonde Phantom
Maurice Leblanc. The Hollow Needle
Maurice Leblanc. The Many Faces of Arsène Lupin
Gaston Leroux. Chéri-Bibi
Gaston Leroux. The Phantom of the Opera
Gaston Leroux. Rouletabille & the Mystery of the Yellow Room
Gaston Leroux. Rouletabille at Krupp’s