The Blackmailers: Dossier No. 113. Richard Dalby. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Richard Dalby
Издательство: HarperCollins
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Жанр произведения: Полицейские детективы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780008137526
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are not aware of the sum of money in the safe?’

      ‘No. My orders were that only a small sum should be kept there.’

      M. Patrigent was silent. The important fact to him seemed to be that the banker was not aware there was 350,000 francs in the safe, and Prosper exceeded his duty in withdrawing it from the bank. The conclusion seemed obvious.

      Seeing that he was not to be asked any more questions, the banker considered it a good opportunity to say what he had on his mind.

      ‘I consider myself above suspicion,’ he began, ‘but I shall not sleep in peace till the robbery is brought home to my cashier. The sum is quite a fortune, and I shall be glad if you will examine my business affairs and see that I have no object in robbing myself.’

      ‘That will do, sir,’ the magistrate interposed; ‘sign your statement, please!’

      After the banker had gone, the clerk remarked:

      ‘It is a very obscure affair; if the cashier is firm and clever it will be difficult to convict him, I think.’

      ‘Perhaps,’ the magistrate replied, ‘but I will examine the other witness.’

      Number four witness was Lucien, M. Fauvel’s eldest son. He was a fine fellow of twenty-two, who said he was very fond of Prosper and looked upon him as an honest man.

      He said he could offer no explanation as to why Prosper should commit the theft. He was sure he did not gamble as much as people made out and did not live beyond his means.

      With regard to his cousin Madeleine he said:

      ‘I always thought Prosper loved Madeleine and would marry her. I always attributed Prosper’s departure to a quarrel with her, but I felt sure they would make it up.’

      Lucien signed his statement and withdrew.

      Cavaillon was the next to be examined. He was in a pitiful state, but determined to repair the mistake he made the previous day if possible.

      He did not exactly accuse M. Fauvel, but he said he was a friend of the cashier, and as sure of his innocence as of his own. But unfortunately he had no evidence to support his statement.

      Six or eight of the bank staff also made statements, but they were not important.

      One of them gave a detail which the magistrate noted. He made out that he knew that Prosper had made a good deal of money on the Stock Exchange through M. Raoul de Lagors.

      After the witnesses had concluded M. Patrigent sent the usher to find Fanferlot, which he did after some delay. The detective gave an account of the incident of the letter, which he was able to produce, having stolen it from Madame Gypsy, and furnished a number of biographical details he had gathered concerning Prosper and Madame Gypsy.

      At the conclusion of the detective’s story M. Patrigent murmured:

      ‘Evidently the young man is guilty.’

      This was not Fanferlot’s opinion, and he was pleased to think the magistrate was upon the wrong track.

      After he had furnished all the information possible, the detective was dismissed, the magistrate telling him to keep a careful eye upon Madame Gypsy as she probably knew something about the money.

      The next day the magistrate took the evidence of Madame Gypsy and recalled M. Fauvel and Cavaillon. Only two of the witnesses who had been summoned failed to appear; the first was the messenger Prosper sent to the bank, who was ill, and M. Raoul de Lagors.

       CHAPTER V

      THE first two days of his imprisonment had not seemed very long to Prosper. He had been provided with writing materials and drawn up his defence. After that he became impatient at not being re-examined.

      On Monday morning the door of his cell opened and his father, an old man with white hair, entered.

      Prosper went forward to embrace him, but his father repulsed him.

      ‘Keep away,’ he said.

      ‘You, too,’ Prosper cried. ‘You believe me to be guilty.’

      ‘Spare me this shameful comedy,’ his father interrupted, ‘I know everything.’

      ‘But, father, I am innocent, I swear it by my mother’s sacred memory.’

      ‘Wretch,’ M. Bertomy cried, ‘do not blaspheme! I am glad your mother is dead, Prosper, for your crime would have killed her.’

      There was a long silence and then Prosper said:

      ‘You overwhelm me, father, when I need all my courage and am the victim of an odious plot.’

      ‘The victim!’ said M. Bertomy. ‘Are you making insinuations against your employer, the man who has done so much for you? It is bad enough to rob him; do not slander him. Was it a lie, too, when you wrote and told me to prepare to come to Paris, and ask M. Fauvel for his niece’s hand for you?’

      ‘No,’ Prosper said in a faint voice.

      ‘That is a year ago,’ his father continued, ‘and yet the thought of her could not keep you from bad companions and crime.’

      ‘But, father, I love her still; let me explain—’

      ‘That is enough, sir. I have seen your employer and know all about it. I have also seen the magistrate, and he gave me permission to visit you. I have seen your rooms and their luxury, and I can understand the reason of your crime; you are the first thief in the family.’

      M. Bertomy, seeing his son was no longer listening to him, stopped.

      ‘But,’ he continued, ‘I am not come to reproach you. Listen to me. How much have you left of the 350,000 francs you have stolen?’

      ‘Once more, father, I am innocent.’

      ‘I expected that reply. Now it rests with your relatives to repair your fault. The day I learned of your crime, your brother-in-law brought me your sister’s dowry, 70,000 francs. I have 140,000 francs besides, making 210,000 francs in all. This I am going to hand to M. Fauvel.’

      This statement roused Prosper.

      ‘Don’t do that!’ he cried.

      ‘I shall do so before night. M. Fauvel will give me time in which to pay the balance. My pension is 1,500 francs and I can live on 500. I am still strong enough to obtain employment.’

      M. Bertomy said no more, stopped by his son’s expression of anger.

      ‘You have no right, father,’ he cried, ‘to do this. You can refuse to believe me if you like; but an action like that would ruin me. I am upon the edge of a precipice and you want to push me over. While justice hesitates, father, you condemn me without a hearing.’

      Prosper’s tones at last made an impression upon his father, who murmured:

      ‘But the evidence against you is very strong.’

      ‘That does not matter,’ Prosper replied; ‘I will prove myself innocent or perish in the attempt, whether I am convicted or not. The author of my misfortune is in the house of M. Fauvel and I will find him. Why did Madeleine tell me one day to think no more of her? Why did she exile me, when she loves me as much as I do her?’

      The hour granted for the interview had expired. M. Bertomy left his son almost convinced of his innocence. Father and son embraced with tears in their eyes.

      The door of Prosper’s cell reopened almost immediately after his father’s departure and the warder entered to conduct him to his examination. This time he went with his head high and a firm step.

      As he passed through the room where the detectives and police were, the man with the gold spectacles said:

      ‘Be brave, M. Bertomy, if you are innocent we will help you.’

      Prosper,