for this piece of work very strongly indeed.”
“Very good, your Grace,” said the inspector. And he rang up the Prefecture of Police.
The Duke heard him report the crime and ask that Guerchard should be sent. The official in charge at the moment seemed to make some demur.
The Duke sprang to his feet, and said in an anxious tone, “Perhaps I’d better speak to him myself.”
He took his place at the telephone and said, “I am the Duke of Charmerace. M. Gournay-Martin begged me to secure the services of M. Guerchard. He laid the greatest stress on my securing them, if on reaching Paris I found that the crime had already been committed.”
The official at the other end of the line hesitated. He did not refuse on the instant as he had refused the inspector. It may be that he reflected that M. Gournay-Martin was a millionaire and a man of influence; that the Duke of Charmerace was a Duke; that he, at any rate, had nothing whatever to gain by running counter to their wishes. He said that Chief-Inspector Guerchard was not at the Prefecture, that he was off duty; that he would send down two detectives, who were on duty, at once, and summon Chief-Inspector Guerchard with all speed. The Duke thanked him and rang off.
“That’s all right,” he said cheerfully, turning to the inspector. “What time will M. Formery be here?”
“Well, I don’t expect him for another hour,” said the inspector. “He won’t come till he’s had his breakfast. He always makes a good breakfast before setting out to start an inquiry, lest he shouldn’t find time to make one after he’s begun it.”
“Breakfast—breakfast—that’s a great idea,” said the Duke. “Now you come to remind me, I’m absolutely famished. I got some supper on my way late last night; but I’ve had nothing since. I suppose nothing interesting will happen till M. Formery comes; and I may as well get some food. But I don’t want to leave the house. I think I’ll see what the concierge can do for me.”
So saying, he went downstairs and interviewed the concierge. The concierge seemed to be still doubtful whether he was standing on his head or his heels, but he undertook to supply the needs of the Duke. The Duke gave him a louis, and he hurried off to get food from a restaurant.
The Duke went upstairs to the bathroom and refreshed himself with a cold bath. By the time he had bathed and dressed the concierge had a meal ready for him in the dining-room. He ate it with the heartiest appetite. Then he sent out for a barber and was shaved.
He then repaired to the pillaged drawing-room, disposed himself in the most restful attitude on a sofa, and lighted an excellent cigar. In the middle of it the inspector came to him. He was not wearing a very cheerful air; and he told the Duke that he had found no clue to the perpetrators of the crime, though M. Dieusy and M. Bonavent, the detectives from the Prefecture of Police, had joined him in the search.
The Duke was condoling with him on this failure when they heard a knocking at the front door, and then voices on the stairs.
“Ah! Here is M. Formery!” said the inspector cheerfully. “Now we can get on.”
CHAPTER IX
M. FORMERY OPENS THE INQUIRY
The examining magistrate came into the room. He was a plump and pink little man, with very bright eyes. His bristly hair stood up straight all over his head, giving it the appearance of a broad, dapple-grey clothes-brush. He appeared to be of the opinion that Nature had given the world the toothbrush as a model of what a moustache should be; and his own was clipped to that pattern.
“The Duke of Charmerace, M. Formery,” said the inspector.
The little man bowed and said, “Charmed, charmed to make your acquaintance, your Grace—though the occasion—the occasion is somewhat painful. The treasures of M. Gournay-Martin are known to all the world. France will deplore his losses.” He paused, and added hastily, “But we shall recover them—we shall recover them.”
The Duke rose, bowed, and protested his pleasure at making the acquaintance of M. Formery.
“Is this the scene of the robbery, inspector?” said M. Formery; and he rubbed his hands together with a very cheerful air.
“Yes, sir,” said the inspector. “These two rooms seem to be the only ones touched, though of course we can’t tell till M. Gournay-Martin arrives. Jewels may have been stolen from the bedrooms.”
“I fear that M. Gournay-Martin won’t be of much help for some days,” said the Duke. “When I left him he was nearly distracted; and he won’t be any better after a night journey to Paris from Charmerace. But probably these are the only two rooms touched, for in them M. Gournay-Martin had gathered together the gems of his collection. Over the doors hung some pieces of Flemish tapestry—marvels—the composition admirable—the colouring delightful.”
“It is easy to see that your Grace was very fond of them,” said M. Formery.
“I should think so,” said the Duke. “I looked on them as already belonging to me, for my father-in-law was going to give them to me as a wedding present.”
“A great loss—a great loss. But we will recover them, sooner or later, you can rest assured of it. I hope you have touched nothing in this room. If anything has been moved it may put me off the scent altogether. Let me have the details, inspector.”
The inspector reported the arrival of the Duke at the police-station with Arsène Lupin’s letter to M. Gournay-Martin; the discovery that the keys had been changed and would not open the door of the house; the opening of it by the locksmith; the discovery of the concierge and his wife gagged and bound.
“Probably accomplices,” said M. Formery.
“Does Lupin always work with accomplices?” said the Duke. “Pardon my ignorance—but I’ve been out of France for so long—before he attained to this height of notoriety.”
“Lupin—why Lupin?” said M. Formery sharply.
“Why, there is the letter from Lupin which my future father-in-law received last night; its arrival was followed by the theft of his two swiftest motor-cars; and then, these signatures on the wall here,” said the Duke in some surprise at the question.
“Lupin! Lupin! Everybody has Lupin on the brain!” said M. Formery impatiently. “I’m sick of hearing his name. This letter and these signatures are just as likely to be forgeries as not.”
“I wonder if Guerchard will take that view,” said the Duke.
“Guerchard? Surely we’re not going to be cluttered up with Guerchard. He has Lupin on the brain worse than any one else.”
“But M. Gournay-Martin particularly asked me to send for Guerchard if I arrived too late to prevent the burglary. He would never forgive me if I had neglected his request: so I telephoned for him—to the Prefecture of Police,” said the Duke.
“Oh, well, if you’ve already telephoned for him. But it was unnecessary—absolutely unnecessary,” said M. Formery sharply.
“I didn’t know,” said the Duke politely.
“Oh, there was no harm in it—it doesn’t matter,” said M. Formery in a discontented tone with a discontented air.
He walked slowly round the room, paused by the windows, looked at the ladder, and scanned the garden:
“Arsène Lupin,” he said scornfully. “Arsène Lupin doesn’t leave traces all over the place. There’s nothing but traces. Are we going to have that silly Lupin joke all over again?”
“I think, sir, that this time joke is the word, for this is a burglary pure and simple,” said the inspector.
“Yes, it’s plain as daylight,” said M. Formery “The burglars came in by this window, and they went out by it.”
He crossed the room to a tall safe which stood before the unused door. The safe was covered with velvet,