‘I should say quite, because they do not stock the good work there, it is all stored and dealt with here. But if you like I’ll phone the head office now, and make quite sure.’
In a few minutes there was a reply from M. Thévenet. No cask of any kind had been sent out from the rue Provence establishment on or about the date mentioned, and none at any time to Felix.
‘Well, M. Thomas, it’s certain, is it not? that one of your casks was sent by Rouen and long sea about the 1st instant. Do you think you could let me have a list of all the casks of that size that were out of your yard on that date? It must have been one of them.’
‘Yes, I suppose it must. I think I can give you that information, but it will take some time to get out.’
‘I’m sorry for giving you the trouble, but I see no other way. We shall have to follow up each of these casks until we find the right one.’
M. Thomas promised to put the work in hands without delay, and Burnley continued:—
‘There is another point. Could you tell me something about your dealings with M. Raoul Boirac, of the Avenue de l’Alma, and particularly of any recent sales you made him?’
‘M. Boirac? Certainly. He is a very good customer of ours and a really well-informed amateur. For the last six years, since I was appointed manager here, we must have sold him thirty or forty thousand francs worth of stuff. Every month or two he would drop in, take a look round, and select some really good piece. We always advised him of anything new we came across and as often as not he became a purchaser. Of recent sales,’ M. Thomas consulted some papers, ‘the last thing we sold him was, curiously enough, the companion piece of that ordered by Felix. It was a marble group of three female figures, two standing and one seated. It was ordered on the 25th of March, and sent out on the 27th.’
‘Was it sent in a cask?’
‘It was. We always use the same packing.’
‘And has the cask been returned?’
M. Thomas rang for a clerk and asked for some other papers.
‘Yes,’ he said, when he had looked over them, ‘the cask sent to M. Boirac on the 27th of last month was returned here on the 1st instant.’
‘One other point, M. Thomas. How can one distinguish between the two groups, that sent to M. Felix, and that to M. Boirac?’
‘Very easily. Both consist of three female figures, but in M. Felix’s two were seated and one standing, while in M. Boirac’s two were standing and one seated.’
‘Thank you very much. That’s all I want.’
‘Not at all. Where shall I send that list of casks?’
‘To the Sûreté, if you please,’ and with a further exchange of compliments the two men parted.
Burnley was both mystified and somewhat disappointed by the information M. Thomas had given him. He had been really impressed by Lefarge’s discovery that a cask containing sawdust had recently been opened in M. Boirac’s study, though he had not admitted it at the time. His friend’s strongly expressed opinion that either Felix or Boirac, or both, had at that time packed the body in the cask had seemed more and more likely, the longer he had thought it over. There were, however, difficulties in the theory. First, as he had pointed out to Lefarge, there was the personality of François. He felt he would stake his reputation on François’ innocence, and without the butler’s co-operation he did not see how the murder could have been carried through. Then, what possible motive could either of the men named have had for desiring the death of the lady? These and other difficulties he had foreseen, but he had not considered them insuperable. Possibly, in spite of them, they were on the right track. But now all hopes of that were dashed. The explanation of M. Boirac of the presence of the cask was complete, and it had been confirmed by François. This perhaps was not conclusive, but M. Thomas had confirmed it also, and Burnley felt the evidence of its truth was overwhelming. The body could not therefore have been packed in the cask, because it had been returned direct from M. Boirac’s to the showrooms. Reluctantly he felt Lefarge’s theory must be abandoned, and, what was much worse, he had no other to substitute.
Another point struck him. If he could find out the hour at which Felix had reached his hotel on the fatal evening, and his condition on arrival, it might confirm or disprove some of the statements they had heard. Therefore, having phoned to the Sûreté and finding he was not required there, he turned his steps again to the Hotel Continental and asked for the manager.
‘I’m afraid I am back to give more trouble, monsieur,’ he said, as they met, ‘but one point has arisen upon which we want some information.’
‘I shall be pleased to assist you as far as I can.’
‘We want to know at what hour M. Felix returned to the hotel on the night of Saturday fortnight, the 27th March, and his condition on arrival. Can you get us that?’
‘I’ll make inquiries. Excuse me a moment.’
The manager was gone a considerable time. When he returned after more than half an hour he shook his head.
‘I can’t find out,’ he said. ‘I’ve asked every one I can think of, but no one knows. One of the hall porters was on duty that evening up till midnight, and he is positive he did not come in before that hour. This is a very reliable man and I think you may take what he says as accurate. The man who relieved him is off duty at present, as is also the night lift boy, and the chamber-maid on late duty in M. Felix’s corridor, but I will interview them later and let you know the result. I presume that will be time enough?’
‘Certainly,’ and with thanks Burnley withdrew.
He lunched alone, greatly regretting M. Lefarge’s absence, and then called up the Sûreté again. M. Chauvet wanted to speak to him, he was told, and soon he was switched through to the great man’s private room.
‘There has been another wire from London,’ said the distant voice, ‘and it seems a cask was sent by passenger train from Charing Cross to Paris via Dover and Calais on Thursday week, the 1st of April, consigned to M. Jaques de Belleville, from Raymond Lemaître. I think you had better go to the Gare du Nord and find out something about it.’
‘How many more casks are we going to find?’ thought the puzzled Burnley, as he drove in the direction of the station. As the taxi slipped through the crowded streets he again took stock of his position, and had to admit himself completely at sea. The information they gained—and there was certainly plenty coming in—did not work into a connected whole, but each fresh piece of evidence seemed, if not actually to conflict with some other, at least to add to the tangle to be straightened out. When in England he had thought Felix innocent. Now he was beginning to doubt this conclusion.
He had not Lefarge’s card to show to the clerk in the parcels office, but fortunately the latter remembered him as having been with the French detective on their previous call.
‘Yes,’ he said, when Burnley had explained, in his somewhat halting French, what he wanted, ‘I can tell you about that cask.’ He turned up some papers.
‘Here we are,’ he said. ‘The cask came off the Calais boat train at 5.45 p.m. on Thursday week, the 1st instant. It was consigned from Charing Cross to M. Jaques de Belleville, to be kept here until called for. He claimed it personally almost immediately after, and removed it on a cart he had brought.’
‘Can you describe M. de Belleville?’
‘He was of medium height and dark, with a black beard. I did not take special notice of him.’
Burnley produced a photograph of Felix he had received from London.
‘Is that the man?’ he asked, handing it over.
The clerk scrutinised it carefully.
‘I could hardly say,’ he replied hesitatingly, ‘it’s certainly