Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 28, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 1 February 1913 — TRUTH ABOUT THE CASE [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

TRUTH ABOUT THE CASE

The Experiences of M. F. Goron, Ex-Chief of the Paris Detective Police Edited by Albert Keyzer A HOTEL MYSTERY

(Copyright by J. B. Lippincott Co.)

HURRIED meals, taken at Impossible hours, are apt to cause ’ dyspepsia. This - I found out; 'and Dr. Thibaut, my medical adviser and friend, fearing I might' not . obey his injunctions, took the trouble to escort me to a a small watering-place in v the Dauphine, whence, he assured me, I should emerge perfectly cured. I did not at all relish the idea of becoming—even for a short time —a fashionable idler. But afterward I had reason to be thankful, for the adventure I met with added a curious chapter to my experiences. I went to that little place a few weeks after the execution of Eyraud, the murderer of the luckless Gouffe, a most sensational crime, which for several months kept the whole European press at fever heat. And, in order to escape interviewers and kodak fiends, I decided to travel incognito, enjjjring myself in the hotel books as M. Gullbert; a wise precaution, as I soon discovered. The most important guests in our Ihotel where Count M , a Russian, a fine-looking man of about sixty-five, and his wife, a pretty woman qdlte forty years his junior. The countess, a restless young creature, was constantly organizing excursions in the mountains, leaving her husband at home to amuse'himself. Two days after my arrival I noticed |B newcomer at our table d’hote, Mlle. Eugenie Arco, an attractive young woman with dark eyes and jet-black hair. Her hands were small and aristocratic, and her appearance would have been in every way refined but tor her ears. These were too large and stood rather far from her head. The girl fascinated, yet at the same time repelled, me. It had been , raiding all the morning, and .1 was in the reading-room fllancing at an illustrated paper, when a voice near said, “Pardon me, monsieur, I see you are h Russian.” ■i «It was Mlle. Arco. "No,” I replied, *7 am not.” "I thought ydu were,” she continued. "because I saw you reading a Russian periodical.” I* "I was not reading it,” I retorted, *7 was only looking at the pictures.” "Oh, I see!” she explalmed. But the look she gave me said she did not believe me. I I did not care to continue the conversation, and she soon left the room. From that moment, however, I noticed she never ceased to observe me, and many a time when I pretended to be asleep in one of the armchairs in the hall her large black eyes were fastened on me as if they were trying to pierce my thoughts. With the officials In the hotel Mlle. Arco was a persona grata, for, unlike most women, who in money matters are Inclined to be niggardly, she tipped the waiters and chambermaids most liberally. The manager of the hotel and his wife had also taken a great fancy to her, and she was always warmly welcomed by them in their sanctum, where she would sit end smoke cigarette after cigarette. Feeling myself closely watched by her, I returned the compliment, and taotlced that she would repair to the office at those hours when the post Kame In, and look over the clerk's shoulder at the letters he sorted. And then it struck me that no missive ever came addressed to her, although one afternoon, happening to pass her room et the moment the maid opened her door, I saw her deeply engaged In correspondence, with several letters in front of her. The next morning, when Mlle. Arco left the hotel I went out at the back, made quickly for the post office by another road, and hid myself behind the hedge of an empty cottage opposite. 3 saw her enter the post office and leave it a few minutes later. She looked up and down the road, and, nobody being <ln sight, she took a letter out of her pocket, opened It, and read it eagerly. “Bah,” I said to myself, “you are not clever, my girL A child could lhave seen through your game. Now we shall have some fun.” That same evening after dlnne? rain fell in torrents, and most of the guests were in the drawing-room. A few were Indulging In a harmless game of cards; two girls were at the piano •inglng sentimental songs, and Mlle. Arco reclined in a rocking-chair, a book In her lap. The count, a very reserved man, with whom I had thus fan exchanged only a few words, was talking to a retired naval officer who bad spent some years In Russia. “Yes,” I heard the count say, “we want a thorough change. It is a disgraceful state of things. These grand dukes ” “Talking of Russia,” I cut In, "allow me to read to you something that just happened In Paris.” I took a paper from my pocket, and as I unfolded It I noticed the count, whom I had Interrupted in the middle of his speech, gase at me with anything but pleasure. . “Last night,” I read, “the police (were called to a house in the Rue

Delambre, in the Montparnasse quarter, where. In a bedroom on the fifth floor, they found the body of a young woman stabbed to the heart On a piecepfßaperplnnedt&.herdres&ths following lines were scribbled in pencil: "This woman, a wretched spy in the employ of the Russian police, has for a long time past watched young men and girls studying at the Paris universities. Two girls who recently returned to Russia were, on that woman’s information, arrested at the frontier, and have not been heard of since. There are, we know, other female spies now carrying on their nefarious work in Some of the French watering places, and their turn will soon , coma “The police are investigating the affair, which has created a tremendous sensation among the Russian students here.” * There was & moment’s silence when I had finished, and then two or three of the guests remarked that it was a terrible business. The count remained silent. He soon after went to bed, and I followed his example. The next morning after breakfast I sat outside the hotel smoking my cigarette. The guests were at the springs or strolling about, while the countess had gone on one of her usual peregrinations. Toward two the count appeared, and, passing me, gave me one of his formal nods. I went up to him. “Pardon me,” I said; “I owe you an apology for interrupting you somewhat rudely last night; but I took the liberty of stopping you from launching into what looked very much like a diatribe against the Russian authorities. You were apparently not aware that a political spy was sitting within a yard of you.” "A spy!” he gasped. “Yes, a spy, in the jferson of that good-looking girl, Mlle. Eugenie Arco. So, now, you will perhaps accept my apology.” “M. Guibert," he laughed, "I don’t know whether to challenge you to fight or to ask you to do me the honor to lunch with me today.” “There is no necessity for either,” I replied. “I am only too happy to have rendered you a slight service.” “How did you know she was a spy?” he asked. “Have you any proof?" “No, only strong suspicion. But we shall now have proofs.” The head waiter was standing at the door. "I have not seen Mlle. Arco this morning,” I called out to him. “I hope she is not ill.” ./ "She has gone away,” the man.replied. “She left early this morning.” The count looked puzzled. We walked a little way down the road, and then I said: “I had, my doubts about that girl from the. start; she is a bungler, a novice in the business. Fancy her suspecting me, a native of Brittany, of being a Russian Nihilist! Political spying is dirty work; but if you do it you must do it well or it becomes dangerous, especially to the spy. And that is why I tried to knock the fear into that young creature by reading out that paragraph last night.” “Yes, about those unfortunate girls. Poor things!" “Reserve your pity for another occasion, count. I Invented that story.” "M. Guibert!” he cried, “I compliment you on your perspicacity. May I ask what your profession is?" “I am a commission agent” > “Well,” he laughed, "you would have made a fine detective.” “You are very kind. But for everybody’s sake it will be well not to mention this affair.” The count nodded assent After the spy incident the count became very friendly and talked freely to me on many subjects. The countess undoubtedly neglected her husband. Visitors kept pouring in, many of them members of the so-called “smart set” I did not like the appearance of several of the newcomers, and I was glad my. cure was drawing to an end. Then a remarkable incident occurred. The countess bad gone on one of her excursions with her male and female followers, the organizer of the party, as usual, being Rene Soudier. Bright, witty, excelling in all sports, Soud* t was adored by the women and popular with the men, except with the count The latter disliked him cor dially, and rarely or never spoke to him. The party had left after luncheon, and was not expected back before 7 o'clock. At three in the afternoon, as I returned from a walk, I saw the count walking up and down in front of the hotel. Something evidently had gone wrong. The moment he saw me he gripped my arm and led me to a secluded spot in the garden. “M. Guibert,” he began in an excited tone which he tried hard to control; “M. Guibert, you proved yourself very shrewd when you dealt with that Russian girl. Allow me to apply to you for advice. My wife’s pearl necklace has been stolen. Do you mind accompanying me up-stairs?” The apartments the count occupied In the hotel consisted of a drawingroom, his and his wife’s bedroom, and their two dressing-rooms. Marfa, the countess’ maid, slept at the end of the passage on the same floor. The count

went straight to his wife’s dressingroom. “Look at that!” he exclaimed, pointing to a dressing-bag on the floor, its lock forced open, and many of the things It had contained scattered around. “The countess,” he continueud, “kept her jewelry locked in that The thief or thieves must have sneaked in after she left What do you advise me to do?” “I think you had better wait for the countess’ return before taking any steps; she will not be long. In the meantime you might question the maid.” But Marfa had obtained her mistress’ permission to go for a donkeyride to the monastery a few miles distant So we waited till she came in. When the count, told her of the robbery she looked thunderstruck. “I swear,” she cried, “that when madame went out the bag was safely locked. I did not go into her room after she left” A loud noise down-stairs announced the cavalcade had returned from their excursion. The countess entered the hotel and her husband went quickly up to her. I strolled down the road leading to the station, when a carriage drove up and a man jumped out, shouting: “Goron, Goron! How are you, old chap?” It was Dr. Thibaut. “Hold your tongue, you stupid!” I said. “What do you mean by bawling out my name? Have you forgotten that I am M. Guibert? I hope the driver has not heard you.” “That’s all- right,” he rejoined; "he’s as deaf as a post. I have taken a week’s holiday. I want to spend it with you here, after which we will return to Paris together. What do you say to this arrangement?” “You have come at a good moment,” I remarked; "there is plenty of excitement at the hotel;” and I related to him the story of the robbery. His eyes; sparkled with delight. • “That will be glorious sport to witness,” he laughed. “For you, perhaps, you heartless

man, but not for the count and countess.” Having dressed for dinner, we found the guests in the hall eagerly discussing the affair, trying to extract particulars from the waiters and chambermaids. All at once there was a hush, for the door of the manager’s room opened, and out came the count and his wife followed by a stout, redfaced, short man with gray whiskers. “That’s M. Julien, the police commissary,” some one said behind me. “I wonder,” whispered Thibaut, “how that M. Julien will set to work?” “So do L With your permission, however, I shall remain in the background. M. Julien, fortunately, does not know me, but one of his subordinates might; and I do not want to depart from my position of spectator. This is M. Julien's domain. I also see new faces. Look at that close-shaven youth with the flower in his buttonhole. Do you notice anything particular about him?” "No, I don’t.” “Look again.” “I see nothing except that he gives me the impression of being a cad." “Watch his mouth.” “Well, he seems to want with hia teeth to catch something on his upper lip.” “Yes, his moustache. It must havb" been there quite recently, and he is not yet accustomed to its absence.” "It seems strange.” “This may not be or any importance, but if I were M. Julien I should take note of it.” For two days I heard no news about the robbery, and waa wondering how things were progressing, when I waa aroused la the morning by a loud

knock at my door. To my surprise the count entered. “Pardon my intruding upon you,” he sighed. “I am very much annoyed. This police commissary is not making any headway. He clings to the idea that the maid committed the deed, or that she is an accomplice; and he thinks he is on the right trail. M. Guibert, I must discover the culprit, and am willing to offer a reward that may tempt any one to help me In my search. The hotel proprietor suggested me writing to M. Goron, asking him to come to our assistance, as these local detectives seem unable to clear up the mystery.” “It Is useless to write to M. Goron,” I replied. “Remember that this is beyond., his sphere of action; and that with the work on his hands in Parts you - cannot expect him toT attend to crimes committed in the provlncea" “I dare say you are right,” groaned the old "besides-- —” He stopped, and moved uneasily in his chair. “M. Guibert,” he burst out rather suddenly, “I repeat, I am particularly anxious to lay my hands on the robber. Yet, at the same time, I dread disclosures that might—that might—possibly cause annoyance to the countess. My wife is young, very young,, and inexperienced; and only too inclined to give her friendship to people of whom she knows very little. Look at that noisy crowd who follow her on her long rides or drives. Who are they? She made their acquaintance only since we came here. Some of the women of that set are as bad as the men. There is that Soudier always dangling after her. What is he? Who is he? Can one find that out? I have my reasons for asking you this.” "I do not know the man any more than you do, but it will be easy to find out all about him through my Paris friends.” “Please, M. Guibert, do this for me. I shall be deeply grateful.” “Frankly, do you think of him in connection with the robbery?” “I suspect that whole fast gang, and feel certain one of them is the thief

I hinted at this to M. Julien, but he apparently thinks that well-dressed ladies and gentlemen cannot commit crimes.” The next morning we heard that M. Julien was looking for a man, a waiter, discharged from the hotel for dishonesty, who, on the afternoon of the robbery, had been seen loitering near the house. He had since disappeared; and, as he had been on friendly terms with Marfa, M. Julien would certainly have arrested the girl if the countess had not interposed and vouched for her innocence. In accordance with my promise to the count I had written to Paris, and the reply I received concerning Soudier was: “Heavily In debt. Loose morals. Raises money wherever he can." When I communicated this to the count his eyes lit up with a cruel fire. “This confirms my suspicions, M. Guibert. Remember my words —Soudier is the thief.” Thibaut was waiting for me downstairs. “Affairs seem at a standstill,” he remarked to me. “Very much so. M. Julien is obstinate. He keeps a close watch on Marfa, and in the meantime he is searching for a poor devil of a waiter. The count is jealous, and would, if he could, at once clap tho handcuffs on the fascinating Soudier. The guests eye one another suspiciously, and so do tho hotel officials. What a ghastly mess they are making of this business!" “And tho countess? You don’t mention her. What does she say?” *7 have not Exchanged a word with her on tho matter. But from what

her husband says, I gather she Is convinced that a stranger to the place .committed the deed.” “I have a theory,” said Thibaut, "that the, countess knows the thief. Whom she does not want to compromise because ” A “Because she loves him?” “Yes.” “These things do occur.” “What about the man with the shaven upper lip? I have not seen him within the last few days.” "No; but I have.” Thibaut gazed at me intently for a few moments. “Goroh,” he cried eagerly, “you’ve discovered something. You have a clue. What is it?” “My dear Thibaut, you have halfguessed the truth. Yes, I scent a mystery, and I wish to clear it up; but hot from professional pride. It is from a sense of duty, for, unless I step in, I foresee a disaster." “Is it as serious as that?” “It may become so. That is what I want to avoid.” “Can I help you F* “Yes, by not asking me any questions, even when I absent myself. Understand me well, Thibaut I must remain M. Guibert to the end. Nobody, Including M. Julien, must know I am Goron. An indiscreet word from you would defeat all my plans.” “You can rely on me.” “I know I can. When, as I hope, I shall have brought my task to a satisfactory ending you shall know all the details of the case. This much I will tell you. The necklace has mysteriously disappeared; I shall try to have it spirited back in the same mysterious way.” A week after the foregoing conversation a cab drove up at the door of the hotel. Thibaut’s and my luggage was hoisted on the top; and we shook hands with some of the guests, including the count, who witnessed our departure for Paris. Half-way to the station we met the countess on her bicycle, some 60 yards ahead of her party. "Bon voyage, M. Guibert!” she shouted, her face beaming with joy.

and threw a rose into our carriage. I placed it in my buttonhole and gave a sigh of relief. “I suppose that sigh has something to do with the case,” said my observant friend. We had the compartment to ourselves, and the train was scarcely out of the station when Thibaut called out: “And now please tell me all that occurred. You, too, must be anxious to unbosom yourself," he added with a mischievous sihlle. "Oh, I shall conceal nothing. But, although I did not act in an official capacity, the story is of a delicate nature and I must request you not to divulge it" “I give you my word.” “It is a strange business, and was even deeper than I conjectured. The first thing that struck 7 me as odd, when the count took me to his wife’s dressing-room, was that forced lock of the dressing-bag; I wondered who the lunatic thief could be who lost precious time over that lock, when, with an ordinary penknife, he could have cut the leather in less than a minute. “You will, however, understand my difficulty, not having had charge of the case, and not having been —like the police commissary—able to investigate closely, and question those likely to throw light upon the matter. I had to be guided partly by reasoning, partly by intuition; and the inferences I drew were that the necklace had hot been stolen, and that either the count or the countess —possibly both —had reasons for spreading that story of the robbery. ~ “1 assure you I never for an instant suspected Soudier, and the count’s

hatred of him and his desire to sad-, die him with the Jobbery rather told, against the format and gave rise to ugly presumptions. I am, however, as you know, a pretty good reader of character, and I did not believe the count capable of a vlllany. There remained the countess, with whom during my stay at the hotel I had not exchanged, half a dozen words. Do you remember my three days* absence?” “Yes; I guessed you had gone to Paris.” ; “You guessed right I arrived there in the early morning, and two hours later I knew that the countess’ father, a broken-down absinthe-drinker, was clerk to a money-changer and moneylender in the Boulevard St Martin, who was once seriously compromised in a case of -stolen bonds; ~F tooks cab, and slowly drove past the place, when I saw our friend with the shaven upper lip emerge from the office, a small traveling-bag in his hand, and jump on a ’bus. His name, I was told at the hotel, is Balin. I did not hesitate a second. I had seen through the window that the principal’s private room at the back was empty, and that in the office were only a young man behind a desk and a girl at a typewriter. I went in and asked for M. 3. , the countess' father. “‘He has left us,’ said the clerk. “Returning to the station, I saw Ballu on the platform, and, unseen by him, we both arrived at the hotel at the same time. - “I had already noticed that although Ballu and the countess never exchanged a word when others were present, their eyes often met, and when on the night of my return we sat down at the table d’hote a hardly perceptible sign passed between them. Keeping them both well In sight, I saw Ballu at 9 o’clock stroll toward the end of the garden. He disappeared in the darkness, but I felt sure he had gone to the little summer-house facing the tennis-lawn. "I soon arrived at the back of the little wooden structure, and felt relieved when I heard some one move inside. Half an hour later there came a light step. It was the countess. Their conversation, carried on in whispers, did not laqt many minutes. Ballu’s voice sounded hard, almost threatening, while that of the countess was Imploring. Although I could not catch every word they said, I heard quite enough to be able to reconstruct the whole case. The moment to act had arrived. “The following morning as the countess crossed the hall I walked up to her and said: " ‘Please go to the library. I want to speak to you at once.* “She gave me a look of surprise and fear, and entered the room. “ ’Madame,’ I said, ‘to you and you alone I will divulge who I am. I am M. Goron, chief of the Paris detective force. My object is to help you. I know your father has appropriated—or is accused of having done so—money belonging to his employer, M. H . I know you wanted to save him, and, not having the ready cash, you handed to M. H , through his understudy, M. Ballu, your pearl necklace As security. In order to do thia you have —probably at this man’s suggestion—made it appear you had been robbed. M. H , being afraid to dispose of the pearls, is now pressing you to redeem them, and for a larger sum than your father owes him. Am I right?” “The poor lady sat motionless. Her very Ups had turned white. “Tear nothing,* I continued; 7 am here to save you. But you must promise to follow my instructions implicitly. Will you?’ "’Yes,* she whispered. " *Very well Can you Invent a reason that will satisfy your husband why you should go to Paris, returning the following day?* “She nodded. " ‘Then leave tomorrow early by the express, having first wired to M. H to make an appointment at his office. Go there straight. Tell him you have seen me—letting him, of course, think I am in Paris —and that you have come to me for advice. Explain that you know from me that his attitude toward you places him in » serious position, from which he can extricate himself in one way only. Having agreed to let you refund him the money due to him by your father —always supposing that story to be true —he must at once return you the necklace, on your promise to pay him a fixed sum on account every month. You can manage that, can you not?* "'Yes, M. Goron,* she said, putting her hand on mine, 7 will.’ “‘Hush! Don’t pronounce my name. Should that fellow H make any fuss, you can tell him he will soon hear from me.” "She went, and returned the following evening. I purposely stood at thedoor as she passed out of the diningroom, when she slipped a note into my hand. Here it la: “‘H accepts. Promise* to returiz thing tomorrow by B . God blew you.' “Before we left I had the satisfaction of knowing that Balin had returned the necklace, and that it waa once more in her possession.” “When she threw that rose?” “Yes.” “And the count? How will his wife explain the reappearance of the necklace?" “She will manage that. Women have Inventive brains.” "And the Julien?” “Ah! The great Julien will. Uli the end of his days, believe ft waa Marfa who stole and returned the pearls; while the count will think the same thing of Soudier. But Julien cannot now arrest innocent people in connection with that case. And it was that, my dear Thibaut, I wanted to avoid.”

The poor lady sat motionless Her very lips turned white.