CHAPTER XXVIII
In Which It Is Proved That One Does Not Always Think of Everything
Great excitement prevailed when Rouletabille had finished. The
court-room became agitated with the murmurings of suppressed
applause. Maitre Henri Robert called for an adjournment of the
trial and was supported in his motion by the public prosecutor
himself. The case was adjourned. The next day Monsieur Robert
Darzac was released on bail, while Daddy Jacques received the
immediate benefit of a "no cause for action." Search was
everywhere made for Frederic Larsan, but in vain. Monsieur Darzac
finally escaped the awful calamity which, at one time, had
threatened him. After a visit to Mademoiselle Stangerson, he was
led to hope that she might, by careful nursing, one day recover
her reason.
Rouletabille, naturally, became the "man of the hour." On leaving
the Palais de Justice, the crowd bore him aloft in triumph. The
press of the whole world published his exploits and his photograph.
He, who had interviewed so many illustrious personages, had himself
become illustrious and was interviewed in his turn. I am glad to
say that the enormous success in no way turned his head.
We left Versailles together, after having dined at "The Dog That
Smokes." In the train I put a number of questions to him which,
during our meal, had been on the tip of my tongue, but which I had
refrained from uttering, knowing he did not like to talk "shop"
while eating.
"My friend," I said, "that Larsan case is wonderful. It is worthy
of you."
He begged me to say no more, and humorously pretended an anxiety
for me should I give way to silly praise of him because of a
personal admiration for his ability.
"I'll come to the point, then," I said, not a little nettled. "I
am still in the dark as to your reason for going to America. When
you left the Glandier you had found out, if I rightly understand,
all about Frederic Larsan; you had discovered the exact way he had
attempted the murder?"
"Quite so. And you," he said, turning the conversation, "did you
suspect nothing?"
"Nothing!"
"It's incredible!"
"I don't see how I could have suspected anything. You took great
pains to conceal your thoughts from me. Had you already suspected
Larsan when you sent for me to bring the revolvers?"
"Yes! I had come to that conclusion through the incident of the
'inexplicable gallery.' Larsan's return to Mademoiselle Stangerson's
room, however, had not then been cleared up by the eye-glasses. My
suspicions were the outcome of my reasoning only; and the idea of
Larsan being the murderer seemed so extraordinary that I resolved to
wait for actual evidence before venturing to act. Nevertheless, the
suspicion worried me, and I sometimes spoke to the detective in a
way that ought to have opened your eyes. I spoke disparagingly of
his methods. But until I found the eye-glasses I could but look
upon my suspicion of him in the light of an absurd hypothesis only.
You can imagine my elation after I had explained Larsan's movements.
I remember well rushing into my room like a mad-man and crying to
you: 'I'll get the better of the great Fred. I'll get the better
of him in a way that will make a sensation!'
"I was then thinking of Larsan, the murderer. It was that same
evening that Darzac begged me to watch over Mademoiselle Stangerson.
I made no efforts until after we had dined with Larsan, until ten
o'clock. He was right there before me, and I could afford to wait.
You ought to have suspected, because when we were talking of the
murderer's arrival, I said to you: 'I am quite sure Larsan will be
here to-night.'
"But one important point escaped us both. It was one which ought
to have opened our eyes to Larsan. Do you remember the bamboo cane?
I was surprised to find Larsan had made no use of that evidence
against Robert Darzac. Had it not been purchased by a man whose
description tallied exactly with that of Darzac? Well, just before
I saw him off at the train, after the recess during the trial, I
asked him why he hadn't used the cane evidence. He told me he had
never had any intention of doing so; that our discovery of it in
the little inn at Epinay had much embarrassed him. If you will
remember, he told us then that the cane had been given him in London.
Why did we not immediately say to ourselves: 'Fred is lying. He
could not have had this cane in London. He was not in London. He
bought it in Paris'? Then you found out, on inquiry at Cassette's,
that the cane had been bought by a person dressed very like Robert
Darzac, though, as we learned later, from Darzac himself, it was
not he who had made the purchase. Couple this with the fact we
already knew, from the letter at the poste restante, that there was
actually a man in Paris who was passing as Robert Darzac, why did
we not immediately fix on Fred himself?
"Of course, his position at the Surete was against us; but when we
saw the evident eagerness on his part to find convicting evidence
against Darzac, nay, even the passion he displayed in his pursuit
of the man, the lie about the cane should have had a new meaning
for us. If you ask why Larsan bought the cane, if he had no
intention of manufacturing evidence against Darzac by means of it,
the answer is quite simple. He had been wounded in the hand by
Mademoiselle Stangerson, so that the cane was useful to enable him
to close his hand in carrying it. You remember I noticed that he
always carried it?
"All these details came back to my mind when I had once fixed on
Larsan as the criminal. But they were too late then to be of any
use to me. On the evening when he pretended to be drugged I looked
at his hand and saw a thin silk bandage covering the signs of a
slight healing wound. Had we taken a quicker initiative at the
time Larsan told us that lie about the cane, I am certain he would
have gone off, to avoid suspicion. All the same, we worried Larsan
or Ballmeyer without our knowing it."
"But," I interrupted, "if Larsan had no intention of using the cane
as evidence against Darzac, why had he made himself up to look like
the man when he went in to buy it?"
"He had not specially 'made up' as Darzac to buy the cane; he had
come straight to Cassette's immediately after he had attacked
Mademoiselle Stangerson. His wound was troubling him and, as he
was passing along the Avenue de l'Opera, the idea of the cane came
to his mind and he acted on it. It was then eight o'clock. And
I, who had hit upon the very hour of the occurrence of the tragedy,
almost convinced that Darzac was not the criminal, and knowing of
the cane, I still never suspected Larsan. There are times ..."
"There are times," I said, "when the greatest intellects--..."
Rouletabille shut my mouth. I still continued to chide him, but,
finding he did not reply, I saw he was no longer paying any
attention to what I was saying. I found he was fast asleep.
