The Golden Triangle Part 57

Simeon shrugged his shoulders:

"You're talking nonsense. For the money to belong to you, it must first be in your possession."

"Certainly."

"And is it?"

"It is."

"Explain yourself, explain yourself at once!" snarled Simeon, beside himself with anger and alarm.

"I will explain myself. The hiding-place that couldn't be got at consisted of four old books, back numbers of Bottin's directory for Paris and the provinces, each in two volumes. The four volumes were hollow inside, as though they had been scooped out; and there was a million francs in each of them."

"You lie! You lie!"

"They were on a shelf, in a little lumber-room next the cabin."

"Well, what then?"

"What then? They're here."

"Here?"

"Yes, here, on that bookshelf, in front of your nose. So, in the circ.u.mstances, you see, as I am already the lawful owner, I can't accept . . ."

"You thief! You thief!" shouted Simeon, shaking with rage and clenching his fist. "You're nothing but a thief; and I'll make you disgorge. Oh, you dirty thief!"

Dr. Geradec smiled very calmly and raised his hand in protest:

"This is strong language and quite unjustified! quite unjustified! Let me remind you that Mme. Mosgranem honored me with her affection. One day, or rather one morning, after a moment of expansiveness, 'My dear friend,' she said--she used to call me her dear friend--'my dear friend, when I die'--she was given to those gloomy forebodings--'when I die, I bequeath to you the contents of my home!' Her home, at that moment, was the barge. Do you suggest that I should insult her memory by refusing to obey so sacred a wish?"

Old Simeon was not listening. An infernal thought was awakening in him; and he turned to the doctor with a movement of affrighted attention.

"We are wasting precious time, my dear sir," said the doctor. "What have you decided to do?"

He was playing with the sheet of paper on which he had written the particulars required for the pa.s.sport. Simeon came up to him without a word. At last the old man whispered:

"Give me that sheet of paper. . . . I want to see . . ."

He took the paper out of the doctor's hand, ran his eyes down it and suddenly leapt backwards:

"What name have you put? What name have you put? What right have you to give me that name? Why did you do it?"

"You told me to put any name I pleased, you know."

"But why this one? Why this one?"

"Can it be your own?"

The old man started with terror and, bending lower and lower over the doctor, said, in a trembling voice:

"One man alone, one man alone was capable of guessing . . ."

There was a long pause. Then the doctor gave a little chuckle:

"I know that only one man was capable of it. So let's take it that I'm the man."

"One man alone," continued the other, while his breath once again seemed to fail him, "one man alone could find the hiding-place of the four millions in a few seconds."

The doctor did not answer. He smiled; and his features gradually relaxed.

In a sort of terror-stricken tone Simeon hissed out:

"a.r.s.ene Lupin! . . . a.r.s.ene Lupin! . . ."

"You've hit it in one," exclaimed the doctor, rising.

He dropped his eye-gla.s.s, took from his pocket a little pot of grease, smeared his face with it, washed it off in a basin in a recess and reappeared with a clear skin, a smiling, bantering face and an easy carriage.

"a.r.s.ene Lupin!" repeated Simeon, petrified. "a.r.s.ene Lupin! I'm in for it!"

"Up to the neck, you old fool! And what a silly fool you must be! Why, you know me by reputation, you feel for me the intense and wholesome awe with which a decent man of my stamp is bound to inspire an old rascal like you . . . and you go and imagine that I should be a.s.s enough to let myself be bottled up in that lethal chamber of yours! Mind you, at that very moment I could have taken you by the hair of the head and gone straight on to the great scene in the fifth act, which we are now playing. Only my fifth act would have been a bit short, you see; and I'm a born actor-manager. As it is, observe how well the interest is sustained! And what fun it was seeing the thought of it take birth in your old Turkish noddle! And what a lark to go into the studio, fasten my electric lamp to a bit of string, make poor, dear Patrice believe that I was there and go out and hear Patrice denying me three times and carefully bolting the door on . . . what? My electric lamp! That was all first-cla.s.s work, don't you think? What do you say to it? I can feel that you're speechless with admiration. . . . And, ten minutes after, when you came back, the same scene in the wings and with the same success. Of course, you old Simeon, I was banging at the walled-up door, between the studio and the bedroom on the left. Only I wasn't in the studio: I was in the bedroom; and you went away quietly, like a good kind landlord. As for me, I had no need to hurry. I was as certain as that twice two is four that you would go to your friend M. Amedee Vacherot, the porter. And here, I may say, old Simeon, you committed a nice piece of imprudence, which got me out of my difficulty. No one in the porter's lodge: that couldn't be helped; but what I did find was a telephone-number on a sc.r.a.p of newspaper. I did not hesitate for a moment. I rang up the number, coolly: 'Monsieur, it was I who telephoned to you just now. Only I've got your number, but not your address.' Back came the answer: 'Dr. Geradec, Boulevard de Montmorency.' Then I understood. Dr. Geradec? You would want your throat tubed for a bit, then the all-essential pa.s.sport; and I came off here, without troubling about your poor friend M. Vacherot, whom you murdered in some corner or other to escape a possible give-away on his side. And I saw Dr. Geradec, a charming man, whose worries have made him very wise and submissive and who . . . lent me his place for the morning. I had still two hours before me. I went to the barge, took the millions, cleared up a few odds and ends and here I am!"

He came and stood in front of the old man:

"Well, are you ready?" he asked.

Simeon, who seemed absorbed in thought, gave a start.

"Ready for what?" said Don Luis, replying to his unspoken question.

"Why, for the great journey, of course! Your pa.s.sport is in order. Your ticket's taken: Paris to h.e.l.l, single. Non-stop hea.r.s.e. Sleeping-coffin.

Step in, sir!"

The old man, tottering on his legs, made an effort and stammered:

"And Patrice?"

"What about him?"

"I offer you his life in exchange for my own."

Don Luis folded his arms across his chest:

"Well, of all the cheek! Patrice is a friend; and you think me capable of abandoning him like that? Do you see me, Lupin, making more or less witty jokes upon your imminent death while my friend Patrice is in danger? Old Simeon, you're getting played out. It's time you went and rested in a better world."

He lifted a hanging, opened a door and called out:

"Well, captain, how are you getting on? Ah, I see you've recovered consciousness! Are you surprised to see me? No, no thanks, but please come in here. Our old Simeon's asking for you."