Messengers of Evil Part 23

"Hum! I..."

"But you must! You simply must! We must sit together at supper, we have still so much to say!... Besides, if you hurry off like that, I fancy Thomery won't be best pleased. Oh, I say, there he is, coming our way!

There's no denying it, he is a fine figure of a man, though he is in the fifties--but!... but!... but do look! What is the matter with him? He looks as if he had seen a ghost."

Sonia Danidoff, who had been waltzing with Thomery, was a little out of breath. A quick glance in a mirror showed the lovely Princess that her cheeks were rather flushed:

"I am scarlet," she thought, with that touch of feminine exaggeration characteristic of her! She was a true daughter of Eve!

At that exact moment she felt a slight tug at the bottom of her skirt, and at the same time a black coat was making profuse apologies: it was Monsieur Nanteuil:

"I am in despair, Princess!" cried the banker. "But no one is quite responsible for his movements in such a crush!... I am very much afraid that I have stepped on the muslin of your ravishing toilette and have slightly torn it!"

The Princess protested that it did not matter in the least, and the banker moved away, bowing low and pouring out apologies and regrets. As soon as he had left her the Princess showed her annoyance: how could she lead the cotillion with this tear in her dress, slight though it might be--and the cotillion would begin in less than half an hour! Then she remembered that her fiance had led her, on her arrival, to a little drawing-room, quite away from the reception rooms at the end of the gallery, that she might leave her cloak there, saying:

"Dear Princess, I have prepared this boudoir for you, and _you only_."

Sonia decided to retire to this boudoir at once and repair the damage to her dress. As she pa.s.sed the cloak-room on her way a maid offered her services. The Princess refused them. If she could not have Nadine, she preferred to manage for herself, besides, she saw that two pins, concealed in the silk muslin, would put her dress to rights; and a touch of powder to her cheeks would bring her colour down to a becoming tint.

She was considerably amused at the veritable a.r.s.enal of flasks and boxes of perfumes which Thomery, as became an attentive lover, had placed there in her honour: the little boudoir had been transformed into a comfortable ladies' dressing-room. Everything was provided, down to a gla.s.s of sugar and water, down to a little phial of alcohol and mint!

Sonia opened a powder box; then, like all the women of her race, having a pa.s.sion for perfumes, she took up a scent sprayer and lavishly sprinkled her throat and the lower part of her face with what was labelled, "essence of violets."

The Princess may have suffered from the intense heat of the ball-room, and required rest without realising it, for she felt slightly faint, a little sick--almost a desire to sleep.... She slipped down on to a low divan, which occupied a corner of the room: she drew deep breaths, breaking in the perfume, a sweet rather strange scent, from the sprayer.

"This scent is sickly," she thought. "If only I had some eau-de-Cologne!"

Without rising, for she felt a real la.s.situde stealing over her, she looked round for the eau-de-Cologne she wanted: Thomery's a.r.s.enal did not contain any. There was only one sprayer and that Sonia Danidoff held in her hand.

She sprinkled herself a second time, hoping that the perfume would revive her; but, on the contrary, her fatigue increased: her eyes closed for a moment.... When she opened them again the room was in darkness.

Sonia tried to rise from the divan. An overpowering torpor, though not disagreeable, was benumbing her whole body, and before her eyes bright lights seemed to float, succeeded by thick darkness. Her head turned round and round ... she strove to cry out, but her voice stuck in her throat: her body jerked with a feeble convulsive movement. She heard indistinctly an unknown voice murmuring:

"Let yourself go!... Sleep!... Have no fear!"

Sonia Danidoff essayed a momentary resistance, then she succ.u.mbed and lost all consciousness of her surroundings....

Absolute silence reigned in the boudoir Thomery had reserved for the sole use of his beautiful betrothed, when he arrived to lead her to the cotillion. He found the door shut. He knocked discreetly. There was no reply. Repeated knocking evoked no audible answer. Thomery opened the door. The room was in total darkness. He switched on the electric light: the boudoir was brilliantly illuminated.... The sight that met his startled eyes was so moving that he grew livid with horror and rushed to the side of his betrothed.

Sonia Danidoff was extended on the divan motionless and pale as death. A hoa.r.s.e and laboured breath came from her heaving bosom at irregular intervals: on the exquisite skin of neck and breast were spattered streaks of blood!

Beside himself, Thomery rushed away in search of help.

It was at this terrible crisis that the fiance of Sonia Danidoff had attracted the attention of Charley, whose friend, the young engineer Andral, was the protege of the man whose awful pallor and distracted air spelt tragedy.

Thomery, his countenance ravaged by intense emotion, his hands clenched, shaken by nervous tremors, hastened, with unsteady steps, in the direction of the gallery leading to the anteroom.

Suddenly a woman's shrieks broke in on the charming harmonies of a slow waltz, which the orchestra was rendering at the moment.... There was an irresistible rush towards the boudoir, where two half-fainting women had collapsed on chairs, and the famous surgeon, Dr. Marvier, was doing his utmost to prevent the crowd from entering the room. The word went round that a tragedy had taken place--a death! Princess Sonia Danidoff was in the room lying dead! The words "crime" and "murder" were freely bandied about: murmurs of "a.s.sa.s.sin," "robber," "a.s.sa.s.sination" could be heard.

Some twenty of the guests who had entered the boudoir could give details. The dreadful rumours were true. Sonia Danidoff, they declared, was stretched out on the floor covered with blood, her breast bare, her pearls had vanished--a horrible sight!

The uproar died down; an icy silence reigned. The dancers drew together in groups discussing the terrifying tragedy.... Several women were still in a fainting condition; pallid men were opening windows that fresh air might circulate in the overheated rooms; on all sides they were watching for the return of their host.

Thomery remained invisible.

General de Rini called his two daughters to his side and spoke words of affectionate encouragement, for they were much upset. The old soldier marched off with them in the direction of the grand staircase and towards the cloak-room on the landing. As he was preparing to take over his coat and hat, one of the footmen went up to him and said a few words in a low voice:

"What!... What!" cried the General. "What's the meaning of this?... Not to leave the house!... But, am I under suspicion then?... It is shameful!... I never heard of such a thing!"

A butler approached the irate General and said, very respectfully:

"I beg of you, General, to speak lower! A definite order to that effect was given us ten minutes ago. Directly Monsieur Thomery was aware of the ... accident he had the entrance doors closed and had the house surrounded by the detectives who were downstairs on duty. The sergeant is there to see this order carried out: you cannot leave the premises!... It is not that you are under suspicion, General--of course not--but perhaps in this way they may succeed in finding the guilty person who has certainly not left the house, for no one has gone from the house for at least an hour...."

General Rini had calmed down. He understood why his host had issued the order. He retired to a corner of the gallery with his daughters, Yvonne and Marthe: the poor things seemed stunned.

The reception rooms slowly emptied: the guests crowded on to the verandah and into the smoking-room. There was a buzz of talk--queries, comments, conjectures: it ceased abruptly.

Monsieur Thomery had just appeared at the top of the grand staircase, accompanied by a gentleman, whose simple black coat was in striking contrast to the light dresses and brilliant uniforms of the guests.

Someone whispered:

"Monsieur Havard!"

It was, in fact, the chief of the detective police force. Within a couple of minutes of his frightful discovery, Thomery had rushed to the telephone and had called up Police Headquarters. It was a piece of unexpected good fortune to find Monsieur Havard there at so advanced an hour. He had immediately responded to the call in person.

Whilst crossing the reception rooms Thomery talked to him in a low voice:

"Accept my grateful thanks, Monsieur, for having answered my appeal for help so quickly. No sooner did I discover the body of my Princess than I lost no time in having all the exits from the premises watched.

Unfortunately I was obliged to leave my reception rooms for quite a quarter of an hour, so that I cannot tell you what happened there. If only I had been able to remain with my guests, I might possibly have surprised some movement, some gesture, some look, which would have put me on the track of this murderous thief ... unfortunately ..."

Monsieur Havard interrupted, smiling:

"That does not matter, Monsieur: if the guilty person is among your guests and has in some way betrayed himself, I shall hear of it. There are, at least, four or five plain clothes men among the dancers, I can a.s.sure you of that."

"I can a.s.sure you to the contrary!" replied Thomery--"I know my guests--know who have been admitted here!"

"I also am sure of what I say," insisted Monsieur Havard. "There is scarcely a ball, a reception, however select it may be, where you will not find a certain number of our men."

Thomery made no reply to this: they had arrived at the door of the fatal room. The doctor was standing beside the victim. Dr. Marvier rea.s.sured Monsieur Havard. He announced that the Princess had been almost literally felled to the ground by a most powerful soporific and was in no real danger: she would certainly regain consciousness in the course of an hour or two.... But she must be kept perfectly quiet: that was absolutely necessary.

Monsieur Havard did not question the doctor's statement. After a rapid glance he was able to form his own opinion. There had been no struggle: the victim's wounds were due to the haste with which the thief had torn the jewels from Sonia Danidoff's neck. He next considered the two windows which, with the door opening on to the gallery, were the only means of entrance and exit the room had. There were strong iron shutters behind the windows: these could not be very easily opened: in any case, it was impossible to close them again from the outside. The thief must have been in the house, probably in the ball-room, and had followed the Princess into this little retiring-room.... But what had been the Princess's motive for coming here alone? Monsieur Havard had learned that the room had not been thrown open to the other guests. Then he perceived that the lace at the bottom of her dress was undone. He bent down and examined it carefully: two pins, hastily stuck in, kept together a piece of this lace.... The conclusion Monsieur Havard came to was, that the Princess having a rent in her dress had wished to be alone for a minute or two in order to repair the damage, and that while she was stooping towards the bottom of her skirt the a.s.sa.s.sin had thrown her to the ground and despoiled her of her jewels.

The chief of the detective force turned to Thomery abruptly:

"I shall be obliged to follow a course of action which may rather annoy your guests; but they must excuse me. Everything leads me to think that the guilty person is on the premises, since no one has gone away.... I must hold an investigation at once. I am going to cross-examine your guests--probe them thoroughly--and I wish to put them through their paces in your office, Monsieur Thomery, one by one.... I will begin ...

with you ... so that your guests take my questioning with a good grace ... it is only a mere matter of form--a pure formality!..."