The Cask, Freeman Wills Crofts [snow like ashes series .txt] 📗

“Bring me the list of disappearances of persons in the Paris area during the last four weeks, or rather”⁠—he stopped and looked at the others⁠—“the disappearances in all France for the same period.”

In a few seconds a clerk entered with some papers.

“Here are all the disappearances reported during March, monsieur,” he said, “and here those for April up to the present date. I haven’t a return for the last four weeks only, but can get one out at once if you wish.”

“No. These are all right.”

The Chief examined the documents.

“Last month,” he said, “seven persons disappeared of whom six were women, four being in the Paris area. This month two people have disappeared, both women and both in the Paris area. That is six women in Paris in the last five weeks. Let’s see, now,” he ran his fingers down the column, “Suzanne Lemaître, aged seventeen, last seen⁠—well, it could not be she. Lucille Marquet, aged twenty⁠—no good either. All these are girls under twenty-one, except one. Here, what is this? Marie Lachaise, aged thirty-four, height 172 centimetres⁠—that is about five feet eight in English measure⁠—dark hair and eyes and clear complexion, wife of M. Henri Lachaise, the avocat, of 41 rue Tinques, Boulevarde Arago. Left home on the twenty-ninth ultimo, that is about ten days ago, at three o’clock, ostensibly for shopping. Has not been heard of since. Better take a note of that.”

M. Lefarge did so, and spoke for the first time.

“We shall try it, of course, monsieur, but I don’t expect much result. If that woman went out to shop she would hardly be wearing evening dress, as was the corpse.”

“Also,” said Burnley, “I think we may take it the dead woman’s name was Annette B.”

“Probably you are both right. Still, you had better make sure.”

The Chief tossed away the papers and looked at Burnley.

“No other disappearances have been reported, nor have we any further information here that would seem to help. I am afraid we must fall back on our other clues. Let us consider, therefore, where we should start.”

He paused for a few moments and then resumed.

“We may begin, I think, by checking the part of Felix’s statement which you, Mr. Burnley, have not yet been able to inquire into, and to do so we must interview M. Le Gautier and try to ascertain if he wrote the letter. If he admits it we will be a step farther on, if not, we must find out how far the story of the lottery and the bet is true, and whether the conversation described by Felix actually took place. In this case we must ascertain precisely who were present and overheard that conversation, and would therefore have the knowledge necessary to write that letter. If this does not give us what we want, it may be necessary to follow up each of these persons and try for our man by elimination. A part of that inquiry would be a search for the typewriter used, which, as Mr. Burnley points out, is identifiable. Simultaneously, I think we should endeavour to trace the wearing apparel and the cask. What do you think of that, gentlemen, for a rough programme?”

“I don’t think we could do better, sir,” returned Burnley as the Chief looked at him, while Lefarge nodded his approval.

“Very well, I would suggest that you and Lefarge go into the matter of the letter tomorrow. Arrange your programme as you think best for yourselves and keep me advised of how you get on. And now as to the clothes. Let me see exactly what you have.”

Burnley spread out the dead woman’s clothes and jewellery on a table. The Chief examined them for some minutes in silence.

“Better separate them into three lots,” he said at length, “the dress, the underclothes, and the trinkets. It will take three to work it properly.” He consulted his card index and picked up the telephone.

“Send Mme. Furnier and Mlles. Lecoq and Blaise here.”

In a few seconds three stylishly dressed women entered. The Chief introduced Burnley and briefly explained the case.

“I want you three ladies,” he said, “to take one each of these three lots of clothes and trinkets, and find the purchaser. Their quality will give you an idea of the shops to try. Get at it first thing tomorrow, and keep yourselves in constant touch with headquarters.”

When the women had withdrawn with the articles he turned to Burnley⁠—

“In an inquiry of this sort I like a report in the evenings of progress during the day. Perhaps you and Lefarge wouldn’t mind calling about nine tomorrow evening, when we shall have a further discussion. And now it is nearly eight o’clock, so you cannot do anything tonight. You, Mr. Burnley, are doubtless tired from your journey and will be glad to get to your hotel. So good night, gentlemen.”

The detectives bowed themselves out. After an exchange of further greetings and compliments, Lefarge said:⁠—

“Are you really very tired? Are you game for a short inquiry tonight?”

“Why, certainly. What do you propose?”

“This. Let us cross and get some dinner at Jules’ in the Boule Miche. It’s on the way to that address the Chief gave us. Then we could go on and see whether the body you found in the cask can be identified as that of Madame Marie Lachaise.”

They strolled leisurely over the Pont St. Michel and crossed the Quai into the Boulevard. When Burnley was in London he swore there was no place like that city, but in Paris he never felt so sure. Jove! he was glad to be back. And what luck to have met this good fellow Lefarge again! He felt that in the intervals of business he was going to enjoy himself.

They dined inexpensively but well, sitting over their cigars and liqueur coffee until the clocks struck nine. Then Lefarge made a move.

“I don’t like to go to this place too late,” he said. “Do you mind coming now?”

They took a taxi and, leaving the Luxembourg behind on the left, quickly ran the mile or