"Very well, I'll see Mlle. Pascal later. Another question, Mme. Ceiron: did any of your tenants leave the house after the crime … I mean after the death?"
"No, Monsieur."
"Mlle. Susy d'Orsel's apartment is reached by two staircases. Do you know if the door to the one used by the servants was locked?"
"That I can't tell you, Monsieur, all I know is that Justine generally locked it when she went out."
"And while you were away hunting the doctor and the police, did you leave the door of the house open?"
"Ah, no, Monsieur, to begin with, I didn't go out. I have a telephone in my room, besides I never leave the door open."
"Is Justine in her room now?"
"No, I have the key, which means that she's out … she's probably looking after funeral arrangements of the poor young girl."
"Mlle. d'Orsel had no relations?"
"I don't think so, Monsieur."
"Is Marie Pascal in?"
"Yes … sixth floor to the right at the end of the hall."
"Then I will go up and see her. Thanks very much for your information, Madame."
"You're very welcome, Monsieur. Ah, this wretched business isn't going to help the house. I still have two apartments unrented."
Juve did not wait to hear the good woman's lamentations but hurriedly climbed the flights of stairs and knocked on the door indicated.
It was opened by a young girl.
"Mademoiselle Marie Pascal?"
"Yes, Monsieur."
"Can I see you for a couple of minutes? I am a detective and have charge of investigating the death of Mlle. d'Orsel."
Mlle. Pascal led the way into her modest room, which was bright and sunny with a flowered paper on the walls, potted plants and a bird-cage. She then began a recital of the interview she had had with Susy. This threw no fresh light upon the case and at the end, Juve replied:
"To sum it up, Mademoiselle, you know only one thing, that Mlle. d'Orsel was waiting for her lover, that she told you she was not very happy, but did not appear especially sad or cast down … in fact, neither her words nor her attitude showed any thought of attempted suicide. Am I not right?"
Marie Pascal hesitated; she seemed worried over something; at length she spoke up:
"I do know more."
"What?"
Juve, to cover the young girl's confusion, had turned his head away while putting the last question.
"Why," he remarked, "you can see Mlle. d'Orsel's apartment from your windows!"
"Yes, Monsieur, and that … "
"Were you in bed when the suicide took place?"
"No … I was not in bed, I saw … "
"Ah! You saw! What did you see?"
"Monsieur, I haven't spoken to a soul about it; in fact, I'm not sure I wasn't mistaken, it all happened so quickly… . I was getting a breath of fresh air at the window, I noticed her apartment was lighted up, I could see that through the curtains, and I said to myself, her lover must have arrived."
"Well, what then?"
"Then suddenly some one pulled back the hall-window curtains, then the window was flung open and I thought I saw a man holding Mlle. d'Orsel by the shoulders … she was struggling but without crying out … finally he threw her out of the window, then the light was extinguished and I saw nothing more."
"But you called for help?"
"Ah, Monsieur, I'm afraid I didn't act as I should have. I lost my head, you understand … I left my room and was on my way downstairs to help the poor woman … and then I heard voices, doors slamming … I was afraid the murderer might kill me, too, so I hurried back to my room."
"According to you, then, it was not a suicide?"
"Oh, no, Monsieur … I am quite sure she was thrown out of the window by some man."
"Some man? But, Mademoiselle, you know Susy d'Orsel was alone with the King, so that man must be the King."
Marie Pascal gave a dubious shrug.
"You know the King?" Juve asked.
"Yes, I sold him laces. I saw him through an open door."
"And you are not sure that he is or is not the murderer?"
"No, I don't know, that's why I've said nothing about it. I'm not sure of anything."
"Pardon, Mademoiselle, but it seems to me you don't quite grasp the situation … what is it you are not sure of?"
"Whether it was the King who killed poor Mlle. Susy."
"But you are sure it was a man who killed Mlle. d'Orsel?"
"Yes, Monsieur … and I am also sure it was a thin, tall man … in fact, some one of the same build as the King."
"Well, Mademoiselle, I cannot see why you have kept this knowledge to yourself, it is most important, for it does away with the theory of suicide, it proves that a crime has been committed."
"Yes, but if it wasn't the King, it would be terrible to suspect him unjustly … that is what stopped me … "
"It must no longer stop you. If the King is a murderer, he must be punished like any other man; if he is innocent, the guilty man must be caught. You haven't spoken of this to the concièrge?"
Marie Pascal smiled.
"No, Monsieur, Mme. Ceiron is rather a gossip."
"I understand, but now you need keep silence no longer; in fact, I should be glad if you would spread your news … talk of it freely and I, on my side, will notify my chief… . I may add that we shall not be long in clearing up this mystery."
Juve had a reason for giving this advice. The more gossip, the less chance would the police department have to stifle the investigation.
Marie Pascal slept badly that night. She was too intelligent not to realize that her deposition had convinced Juve of the guilt of the King, and this troubled her greatly. She, herself, was persuaded that she had seen the King throw Susy out of the window, although she had had no time to identify him positively and the young girl was alarmed at the importance of her testimony.
However, she determined to follow Juve's advice and spread the gossip. With that purpose she went down to see Mother Ceiron. As the concièrge was not in her room she called through the hallway:
"Madame Ceiron!… Madame Ceiron!"
A man's voice answered and a laundryman came downstairs carrying a basket.
"The concièrge is on the sixth floor, Mademoiselle. I passed her as I was going up to get M. de Sérac's laundry."
"Ah, thank you, then I will wait for her."
Marie Pascal took a seat in the office, but at the end of ten minutes she became bored and decided to go out and get a breath of the fresh morning air.
As she reached the entrance she noticed an article of clothing lying on the ground.
"A woman's chemise," she exclaimed, picking it up. "The laundryman must have dropped it."
Then suddenly she grew pale and retraced her steps to the office.
"Good God!" she cried, leaning for support upon the back of a chair.
Chapter 7 THE KING RECEIVES
The elegant attaché of the Secretary for Foreign