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

knowledge that it came by long sea from Rouen. I don’t for one moment doubt your word, but there must be a mistake somewhere.”

“Ah,” returned the superintendent, smiling, “now I come to something that will interest you. The cask we have just spoken of was sent out on the evening of the 30th ult. But I find another cask was despatched three days later, on the 1st instant. It also was addressed to M. Felix at the same London address and sent in by Messrs. Dupierre. It was labelled via Rouen and the I. and C. Company’s boat. It went by goods train that night, and I will get our Rouen agent to try and trace it, though, as he would have had no reason to remark it, I doubt if he will be able to do so.”

Burnley swore. “I beg your pardon, sir, but this gets deeper and deeper. Two casks!” He groaned.

“At least,” said the superintendent, “it has cleared up your difficulty about how a cask that left by one route arrived by another.”

“It has done that, monsieur, and we are really extremely obliged for all your kindness and trouble.”

“If there is anything else I can do I shall be very pleased.”

“Thank you again. The only other point is to trace the cart that brought the second cask.”

“Ah,” the superintendent shook his head; “I can’t do that for you, you know.”

“Of course not. But perhaps you could get hold of, or put us in a position to get hold of your men who received the cask? We might get some information from them.”

“I shall do what I can. Now, gentlemen, if you will call any time in the morning, I shall let you have any further information I receive.”

The detectives, having thanked him again, bowed themselves out and, strolling up and down the vast concourse, discussed their plans.

“I should like to wire to London now, and also to write by tonight’s post,” said Burnley. “They’ll want to get on to tracing that second cask from Waterloo as soon as possible.”

“Well, the ordinary letter-boxes are clear at half-past six, but if you are late you can post in the van of the English mail at the Gare du Nord up till 9:10 p.m., so you have plenty of time for that later. What about sending your wire from here now, and then going to the Hotel Continental to look up your friend Felix?”

Burnley agreed, and when the telegram had been sent they took another taxi and drove to the Continental. Lefarge’s card produced immediately a polite and agreeable manager, anxious to assist.

“We are trying to trace a man whom we believe stayed here recently,” explained Lefarge. “His name was Léon Felix.”

“A rather short and slight man with a black beard and a pleasing manner?” replied the manager. “Oh, yes, I know M. Felix very well, and very pleasant I have always found him. He was here recently. I will inquire the exact dates.”

He disappeared for a few seconds.

“He was here from Saturday, the 13th of March, till Monday, the 15th. Then he returned on Friday, the 26th, and left again on the morning of Sunday, the 28th, to catch the 8:20 train for England at the Gare du Nord.”

The two detectives exchanged glances of surprise.

“Could you let me compare his signature in your register with one I have here?” asked Burnley. “I am anxious to make sure it is the same man.”

“Certainly,” replied the manager, leading the way.

The signature was the same, and, after thanking the manager, they took their departure.

“That’s an unexpected find,” Burnley remarked. “Felix said nothing to me about being here ten days ago.”

“It’s a bit suggestive, you know,” returned his companion. “We’ll have to find out what he was doing during the visit.”

Burnley nodded.

“Now for my report, anyway,” he said.

“I think I’ll go to the Sûreté and do the same,” answered Lefarge.

They parted, having arranged to meet later in the evening. Burnley wrote a detailed account of his day to his Chief, asking him to have inquiries made at Waterloo about the second cask. Having posted it, he gave himself up to a study of Felix’s letter ordering the group of statuary.

It was written on a sheet of the same kind of paper as those of the two typewritten letters received by Felix. Burnley carefully compared the watermarks and satisfied himself on the point. Then, drawing from his pocket the address he had got Felix to write in the house on the Great North Road, he compared them.

The handwriting was the same in each, at least that was his first impression, but on a closer examination he felt somewhat less certain. He was not a handwriting expert, but he had come across a good many of these men, and was aware of some of their methods. He applied those he knew and at last came to the conclusion that Felix had written the order, though a certain doubt remained. He wrote another note to his Chief and enclosed the two letters, asking him to have them compared.

Then he went out to spend the evening with Lefarge.

XIII The Owner of the Dress

When some time later the two friends met, Lefarge said:⁠—

“I saw the Chief, and he’s not very satisfied with the way things are going. None of those women have done anything with the clothes. He’s got a notion we ought to advertise and he wants us to go there at nine tonight and talk it over.”

Accordingly, at the hour named, they presented themselves at the office in the Sûreté.

“Sit down, gentlemen,” began the Chief. “I wanted to consult with you about this case. In our efforts to identify the dead woman, which we agreed was our first essential, we have unfortunately had no success. Our three women have done exceedingly well as far as covering ground goes, but they have had no luck. You, gentlemen, have found out some important facts, but they have not led in this particular direction. Now,