Mlle. Fouchette Part 27

The commissary got up full of wrath, and grasping the unfortunate cabby by the shoulder, spun him around with such force as to make the man's head swim.

"Dubat!"

"Monsieur?"

"Take this idiot to the post. I'll enter a complaint against him before the Correctionnelle in the morning. He shall forfeit his license for this amus.e.m.e.nt. Gentlemen, pardon me for this unnecessary intrusion. Either this fool Perriot has lied or has led us to the wrong number. I'll give him time to decide which. Allons!"

Led by the irate official the squad departed, Monsieur Perriot being hustled unceremoniously between two agents.

The young men left behind looked at each other for a minute without speaking, then broke into a chorus of laughter.

It was such a good one on the police.

"Ah!" exclaimed Villeroy, "if we only had that stiff here for a fact!"

"This joke on the agents must be got into the newspapers," said Lerouge. "It's too good to keep all to ourselves."

"Fact!" cried Ma.s.sard, who had thrown himself on the cot.

"The joke is on Monsieur Perriot, I think," observed Villeroy.

"Whoever it is on," put in young Ma.s.sard, "it is a better joke than you fellows imagine." And Ma.s.sard went off into a paroxysm of laughter by himself.

"Que diable?"

"Oh! oh! oh!" roared Ma.s.sard.

He had discovered the missing sheet and blanket and the grisette's hat. His companions regarded him attentively. But the young man merely went into fresh convulsions of merriment.

Lerouge suddenly raised his hand for silence. There was a low, half-timid rap at the door. It created the impression of some woman of the street.

"Come in!" cried Villeroy.

"Let her in," said Lerouge.

By which time the door had been opened and a tall, thin gentleman entered and immediately closed the door behind him.

"In-Inspector Loup!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Lerouge.

"What! more police?" inquired Villeroy, sarcastically. "We are too much honored to-night."

"Excuse me, young gentlemen," observed the official, somewhat stiffly, but with a polite inclination of his lank body, "but I must be permitted to make an examination here--yes, I know; but Monsieur le Commissaire is rather--rather--you know--they will wait until I see for myself where the error is. Yes, error, I'm sure."

During this introduction the keen little fishy eyes searched the table, the floor, the walls, the cot in the corner whereon Ma.s.sard now sat seriously erect, and, incidentally, every person in the room. They wound up this lightning tour of inspection by resting with the last equivocal sentence upon some object on the floor under the table.

"Pardon me," he added, stepping briskly forward and grasping the lamp.

He brought the light to bear upon the object which had appeared to fascinate him, the wondering eyes of the three students becoming riveted to the same spot.

It was a wisp of light flaxen hair just tinted with gold.

The inspector replaced the lamp upon the dissecting-table and examined the lock of hair. It was still moist, and there were distinct traces of blood where it had been cut off from the head.

"Ah!"

The world of satisfaction in that e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n was not communicated to the students, who were speechless with astonishment.

"Yes," said the inspector, as if he were continuing an unimportant conversation, "Monsieur le Commissaire is rather--rather--show me the rest of the place, please," and without waiting for formal permission proceeded, lamp in hand, on his own account.

"So! One sleeps here?"

"Occasionally, monsieur."

He looked under the cot.

"Then you must have the rest of the bed; where is it?"

His quick eye had discovered the inconsistency of the mattress,--as, indeed, Ma.s.sard himself had already done,--and his fertile brain jumped at once from cause to effect.

"Probably to wrap the body in. Where's the sink?"

In the little antechamber, redolent with the peculiar and indescribable odor of human flesh and its preservatives, was a long ice-chest, a big iron sink, an old-fashioned range, pots, pans, shelves with bottles, etc.

Ma.s.sard hurriedly opened the chest, as if half expecting to see a human body there.

But Inspector Loup scarcely glanced at this receptacle for "subjects."

His eyes sought and found the metal basin such as doctors use during operations.

The basin was still wet, and minute spots of red appeared upon its rim. A sponge lay near. It had recently been soaked. The inspector squeezed the sponge over the basin and obtained water stained with red.

"Blood," said he.

"Blood!" echoed the alarmed students.

"She's alive," said the inspector, more to himself than to his dumfounded auditors,--"alive, probably, else whoever brought her here would have kept her here."

He returned abruptly to the other room, and depositing the lamp, turned to Lerouge,--

"Were you expecting anybody else here to-night, monsieur?"

"Why, yes; Jean Marot----"

The possibility flashed upon the three young men at once, but it seemed too preposterous. The inspector had turned to the window and blown a shrill whistle.

"Pardon me, young gentlemen, but I'll not disturb you any longer than I can help. What is Jean Marot's address? Good! I will leave you company. You will not mind? Dubat will entertain you. It is better than resting in the station-house, eh?"

With this pleasantry Inspector Loup hurried away, s.n.a.t.c.hed a cab, and was driven rapidly to the address in the Faubourg St. Honore.