That being so, I shall ask deMirandols permission
to use his telephone. It contains, no doubt, some pieces of importantevidence. Yes,
and a word about that tumbled bed, if youplease. It is a pity, Hanaud replied, and
he began to talk in riddles. But he started as he spoke, anddirected a warning
glance at his companion.
Ricardowas conscious of a thrill of excitement. He
would have been sentenced for the murder of Evelyn Devenish? And how did the mask
come to becaught up in the tree?
But he had theupper hand, and even in little things
was disposed to keep it. Yousee, I begin to ask myself, have I an enemy in that
excellent examiningjudge? But as Hanaud had recognized from the beginning,Arthur
Tidon was a man of a great force.
It was to this house that Evelyn Devenish had come
whenall the world was in bed.
I relieve you from now onfrom all duties in
connection with this case.
You have only, I think, to look across the room to
seethe last page of this book, he said.
Joyce Whipple looked a little puzzled, but as
Mr.
Hanaud stepped forward withoutthe least
eagerness.
The examining magistrate hoisted himself with one
hand out of his chair. He stretched out ahand as Hanaud produced a letter from his
pocket.
He had nodoubt taken some action upon it? That
young lady had nothing to do with it. All through that interview he keeps on his
gloves. He was in the very mood for subtle discoveries.
Ricardoby the arm and led him towards the
gate.
De Mirandol opened it and switched on thelights.
Hanaud stepped forward withoutthe least eagerness.
That is the best of news, said the
magistrate.
He threw open the door and
recoiledsharply.
Then a moment came whilst you were telling your
story, a verycurious moment. Now Monsieur Tidon was shakenout of his wits. I do not
deny, however, that Iused that gate two nights ago. Tidon stopped in his walk and
looked sharply at Hanaud. For Joyce Whipple and BryceCarter were crossing to their
table.
The number is no surprise to these gentlemen. This
is not acase of apaches in a cabaret, or a burglary in the Champs Elysees. It was a
grave disappointment to mewhen Monsieur Hanaud removed himself to
Bordeaux.
The Vicomte de Mirandolhad bent under it like a
stalk in a wind. I do not even know who killed Evelyn Devenish, he exclaimed,
spreadingout his hands.
You went home from theChateau Suvlac early and by
the ordinary road.