Conscience Part 19

"I have told you that from a quarter past five until half-past I was not in my lodge."

"And before a quarter past five o'clock?"

"Several persons pa.s.sed whom I did not know."

"Did any one among them ask you for Monsieur Caffie?"

"No; that is to say, yes. There was one who asked me if Monsieur Caffie was at home; but I know him well; that is why I answered No."

"And who is he?"

"One of Monsieur Caffies old clerks."

"His name?"

"Monsieur Florentin--Monsieur Florentin Cormier."

Saniel's hand was arrested at this name, but he did not raise his head.

"At what hour did he come?" asked the commissioner.

"Near three o'clock, before rather than after."

"Did you see him go away?"

"Certainly, he spoke to me."

"What time was it?"

"Half-past three."

"Do you think that death could have occurred at this moment?" the commissioner asked, turning to Saniel.

"No; I think it must have been between five and six o'clock."

"It is wrong for the commissioner to suspect Monsieur Florentin," cried the concierge. "He is a good young man, incapable of harming a fly.

And then, there is a good reason why death could not have taken place between three o'clock and half-past; it is that Monsieur Caffie's lamp was lighted, and you know the poor gentleman was not a man to light his lamp in broad daylight, looking as he was--"

She stopped abruptly, striking her forehead with her hand.

"That is what I remember, and you will see that Monsieur Florentin has nothing to do with this affair. As I went upstairs at a quarter past five to light my gas, some one came behind me and rang Monsieur Caffie's bell, and rapped three or four times at equal distances, which is the signal to open the door."

Again Saniel's pen stopped, and he was obliged to lean his hand on the table to prevent its trembling.

"Who was it?"

"Ah! That I do not know," she answered. "I did not see him, but I heard him, the step of a man. It was this rascal who killed him, you may be sure."

This seemed likely.

"He went out while I was on the stairs; he knew the customs of the house."

Saniel continued his report.

After having questioned and cross-questioned the concierge without being able to make her say more, the commissioner dismissed her, and leaving Saniel at his work, he pa.s.sed into Caffie's office, where he remained a long time.

When he returned he brought a small note-book that he consulted. Without doubt it was the book of Caffie's safe, simple and primitive, like everything relating to the old man's habits, governed by the narrowest economy in his expenses, as well as in his work.

"According to this note-book," the commissioner said to his secretary, "thirty-five or thirty-six thousand francs must have been taken from the safe; but there are left deeds and papers for a large sum."

Saniel, who had finished his report, did not take his eyes from the note-book, and what he could see rea.s.sured him. Evidently these accounts were reduced to a minimum: a date, a name, a sum, and after this name a capital P, which, without doubt, meant "paid." It was hardly possible that with such a system Caffie had ever taken the trouble to enter the number of the bills that had pa.s.sed through his hands; in any case, if he did, it was not in this note-book. Would another one be found?

"My report is finished," he said. "Here it is."

"Since you are here, perhaps you can give me some information concerning the habits of the victim and the persons he received."

"Not at all. I have known him but a short time, and he was my patient, as I was his client, by accident. He undertook an affair for me, and I gave him advice; he was in the last stage of diabetes. The a.s.sa.s.sin hastened his death only a short time-a few days."

"That is nothing; he hastened it."

"Oh, certainly! Otherwise, if he is skilful in cutting throats, perhaps he is less so in making a diagnosis of their maladies."

"That is probable," responded the commissioner, smiling. "You think it was a butcher?"

"It seems probable."

"The knife?"

"He might have stolen it or found it."

"But the mode of operating?"

"That, it seems to me, is the point from where we should start."

Saniel could remain no longer, and he rose to leave.

"You have my address," he said; "but I must tell you, if you want me, I leave to-morrow for Nice. But I shall be absent only just long enough to go and return."

"If we want you, it will not be for several days. We shall not get on very rapidly, we have so little to guide us."

CHAPTER XV. A NEW PLAN

Saniel walked home briskly. If, more than once during this interview, his emotion was poignant, he could not but be satisfied with the result.

The concierge had not seen him, that was henceforth unquestionable; the hypothesis of the butcher's knife was put in a way to make his fortune; and it seemed probable that Caffie had not kept the numbers of the bank-notes.