The Blonde Lady. Leblanc Maurice. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Leblanc Maurice
Издательство: Public Domain
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Жанр произведения: Зарубежная классика
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five o'clock to the minute, on the Friday, their motor-car drew up in front of 9, Rue Boissy-d'Anglas. The old inspector was waiting for them on the pavement and, without a word of explanation, led them up to the first-floor of the Thé Japonais.

      In one of the rooms they found two persons, whom Ganimard introduced to them.

      "M. Gerbois, professor at Versailles College, whom, you will remember, Arsène Lupin robbed of half a million.... M. Léonce d'Hautrec, nephew and residuary legatee of the late Baron d'Hautrec."

      The four sat down. A few minutes later, a fifth arrived. It was the chief of the detective-service.

      M. Dudouis appeared to be in a rather bad temper. He bowed and said:

      "Well, what is it, Ganimard? They gave me your telephone message at headquarters. Is it serious?"

      "Very serious, chief. In less than an hour, the last adventures in which I have assisted will come to an issue here. I considered that your presence was indispensable."

      "And does this apply also to the presence of Dieuzy and Folenfant, whom I see below, hanging round the door?"

      "Yes, chief."

      "And what for? Is somebody to be arrested? What a melodramatic display! Well, Ganimard, say what you have to say."

      Ganimard hesitated for a few moments and then, with the evident intention of impressing his hearers, said:

      "First of all, I wish to state that Herr Bleichen had nothing to do with the theft of the ring."

      "Oh," said M. Dudouis, "that's a mere statement … and a serious one!"

      And the count asked:

      "Is this … discovery the only thing that has come of your exertions?"

      "No, sir. Two days after the theft, three of your guests happened to be at Crécy, in the course of a motor-trip. Two of them went on to visit the famous battlefield, while the third hurried to the post-office and sent off a little parcel, packed up and sealed according to the regulations and insured to the value of one hundred francs."

      M. de Crozon objected:

      "There is nothing out of the way in that."

      "Perhaps you will think it less natural when I tell you that, instead of the real name, the sender gave the name of Rousseau and that the addressee, a M. Beloux, residing in Paris, changed his lodgings on the very evening of the day on which he received the parcel, that is to say, the ring."

      "Was it one of my d'Andelle cousins, by any chance?" asked the count.

      "No, it was neither of those gentlemen."

      "Then it was Mme. de Réal?"

      "Yes."

      The countess, in amazement, exclaimed:

      "Do you accuse my friend Mme. de Réal?"

      "A simple question, madame," replied Ganimard. "Was Mme. de Réal present at the sale of the blue diamond?"

      "Yes, but in a different part of the room. We were not together."

      "Did she advise you to buy the ring?"

      The countess collected her memory:

      "Yes … as a matter of fact.... I think she was the first to mention it to me."

      "I note your answer, madame," said Ganimard. "So it is quite certain that it was Mme. de Réal who first spoke to you of the ring and advised you to buy it."

      "Still … my friend is incapable...."

      "I beg your pardon, I beg your pardon, Mme. de Réal is only your chance acquaintance and not an intimate friend, as the newspapers stated, thus diverting suspicion from her. You have only known her since last winter. Now I can undertake to prove to you that all that she has told you about herself, her past, her connections is absolutely false; that Mme. Blanche de Réal did not exist before she met you; and that she has ceased to exist at this present moment."

      "Well?" said M. Dudouis, "what next?"

      "What next?" echoed Ganimard.

      "Yes, what next?… This is all very interesting; but what has it to do with the case? If Mme. de Réal took the ring, why was it found in Herr Bleichen's tooth-powder? Come, Ganimard! A person who takes the trouble to steal the blue diamond keeps it. What have you to answer to that?"

      "I, nothing. But Mme. de Réal will answer."

      "Then she exists?"

      "She exists … without existing. In a few words, here it is: three days ago, reading the paper which I read every day, I saw at the head of the list of arrivals at Trouville, 'Hôtel Beaurivage, Mme. de Réal,' and so on.... You can imagine that I was at Trouville that same evening, questioning the manager of the Beaurivage. According to the description and certain clues which I gathered, this Mme. de Réal was indeed the person whom I was looking for, but she had gone from the hotel, leaving her address in Paris, 3, Rue du Colisée. On Wednesday, I called at that address and learnt that there was no Madame de Réal, but just a woman called Réal, who lived on the second floor, followed the occupation of a diamond-broker and was often away. Only the day before, she had come back from a journey. Yesterday, I rang at her door and, under a false name, offered my services to Mme. de Réal as an intermediary to introduce her to people who were in a position to buy valuable stones. We made an appointment to meet here to-day for a first transaction."

      "Oh, so you expect her?"

      "At half-past five."

      "And are you sure?…"

      "That it is Mme. de Réal of the Château de Crozon? I have indisputable proofs. But … hark!… Folenfant's signal!…"

      A whistle had sounded. Ganimard rose briskly:

      "We have not a moment to lose. M. and Madame de Crozon, go into the next room, please. You too, M. d'Hautrec … and you also, M. Gerbois.... The door will remain open and, at the first sign, I will ask you to intervene. Do you stay, chief, please."

      "And, if anyone else comes in?" asked M. Dudouis.

      "No one will. This is a new establishment and the proprietor, who is a friend of mine, will not let a living soul come up the stairs … except the blonde lady."

      "The blonde lady? What do you mean?"

      "The blonde lady herself, chief, the friend and accomplice of Arsène Lupin, the mysterious blonde lady, against whom I have positive proofs, but against whom I want, over and above those and in your presence, to collect the evidence of all the people whom she has robbed."

      He leant out of the window:

      "She is coming.... She has gone in.... She can't escape now: Folenfant and Dieuzy are guarding the door.... The blonde lady is ours, chief; we've got her!"

      Almost at that moment, a woman appeared upon the threshold, a tall, thin woman, with a very pale face and violent golden hair.

      Ganimard was stifled by such emotion that he stood dumb, incapable of articulating the least word. She was there, in front of him, at his disposal! What a victory over Arsène Lupin! And what a revenge! And, at the same time, that victory seemed to him to have been won with such ease that he wondered whether the blonde lady was not going to slip through his fingers, thanks to one of those miracles which Lupin was in the habit of performing.

      She stood waiting, meanwhile, surprised at the silence, and looked around her without disguising her uneasiness.

      "She will go! She will disappear!" thought Ganimard, in dismay.

      Suddenly, he placed himself between her and the door. She turned and tried to go out.

      "No, no," he said. "Why go?"

      "But, monsieur, I don't understand your ways. Let me pass...."

      "There is no reason for you to go, madame, and every reason, on the contrary, why you should stay."

      "But …"

      "It's no use, you are not going."

      Turning very pale,