The Hollow Needle by Maurice Leblanc Read Free Book Online Page A

assault: ‘The man leaped at me and felled me with a blow on the temple!’ How could M. de Gesvres, who had fainted, know, on waking, that Daval had been stabbed with a knife?”
    Isidore Beautrelet did not wait for an answer to his question. It seemed as though he were in a hurry to give the answer himself and to avoid all comment. He continued straightway:
    “Therefore it was Jean Daval who brought the three burglars to the drawing room. While he was there with the one whom they call their chief, a noise was heard in the boudoir. Daval opened the door. Recognizing M. de Gesvres, he rushed at him, armed with the knife. M. de Gesvres succeeded in snatching the knife from him, struck him with it and himself fell, on receiving a blow from the man whom the two girls were to see a few minutes after.”
    Once again, M. Filleul and the inspector exchanged glances. Ganimard tossed his head in a disconcerted way. The magistrate said:
    “Monsieur le Comte, am I to believe that this version is correct?”
    M. de Gesvres made no answer.
    “Come, Monsieur le Comte, your silence would us to suppose—I beg you to speak.”
    Replying in a very clear voice, M. de Gesvres said:
    “The version is correct in every particular.”
    The magistrate gave a start.
    “Then I cannot understand why you misled the police. Why conceal an act which you were lawfully entitled to commit in defense of your life?”
    “For twenty years,” said M. de Gesvres, “Daval worked by my side. I trusted him. If he betrayed me, as the result of some temptation or other, I was, at least, unwilling, for the sake of the past, that his treachery should become known.”
    “You were unwilling, I agree, but you had no right to be.”
    “I am not of your opinion, Monsieur le Juge d’Instruction. As long as no innocent person was accused of the crime, I was absolutely entitled to refrain from accusing the man who was at the same time the culprit and the victim. He is dead. I consider death a sufficient punishment.”
    “But now, Monsieur le Comte, now that the truth is known, you can speak.”
    “Yes. Here are two rough drafts of letters written by him to his accomplices. I took them from his pocket-book, a few minutes after his death.”
    “And the motive of his theft?”
    “Go to 18, Rue de la Barre, at Dieppe, which is the address of a certain Mme. Verdier. It was for this woman, whom he got to know two years ago, and to supply her constant need of money that Daval turned thief.”
    So everything was cleared up. The tragedy rose out of the darkness and gradually appeared in its true light.
    “Let us go on,” said M. Filluel after the count had withdrawn.
    “Upon my word,” said Beautrelet, gaily, “I have said almost all that I had to say.”
    “But the runaway, the wounded man?”
    “As to that, Monsieur le Juge d’Instruction, you know as much as I do. You have followed his tracks in the grass by the cloisters—you have—”
    “Yes, yes, I know. But, since then, his friends have removed him and what I want is a clue or two as regards that inn—”
    Isidore Beautrelet burst out laughing:
    “The inn! The inn does not exist! It’s an invention, a trick to put the police on the wrong scent, an ingenious trick, too, for it seems to have succeeded.”
    “But Dr. Delattre declares—”
    “Ah, that’s just it!” cried Beautrelet, in a tone of conviction. “It is just because Dr. Delattre declares that we mustn’t believe him. Why, Dr. Delattre refused to give any but the vaguest details concerning his adventure! He refused to say anything that might compromise his patient’s safety!—And suddenly he calls attention to an inn!—You may be sure that he talked about that inn because he was told to. You may be sure that the whole story which he dished up to us was dictated to him under the threat of terrible reprisals. The doctor has a wife. The doctor has a daughter. He is too fond of them to disobey people of whose formidable power he has seen