Hugh came forward, and in his best French explained the circumstances of the tragedyhow Mademoiselle had been shot in his presence by an unknown hand.
The assassin, whoever he was, stood out yonderupon the verandabut I never saw him, he added. It was all over in a secondand he has escaped!
And pray who are you? demanded the police officer bluntly. Please explain.
Hugh was rather nonplussed. The question required explanation, no doubt. It would, he saw, appear very curious that he should visit Mademoiselle of Monte Carlo at that late hour.
Iwell, I called upon Mademoiselle because I wished to obtain some important information from her.
What information? Rather late for a call, surely?
The young Englishman hesitated. Then, with true British grit, he assumed an attitude of boldness, and asked:
Am I compelled to answer that question?
I am Charles Ogier, chief inspector of the Surete of Monaco, and I press for a reply, answered the other firmly.
And I, Hugh Henfrey, a British subject, at present decline to satisfy you, was the young mans bold response.
Is the lady still alive? inquired the inspector of Doctor Leneveu.
Yes. I have ordered her to be taken up to her roomof course, when msieur the inspector gives permission.
Ogier looked at the deathly countenance with the closed eyes, and noted that the wound in the skull had been bound up with a cotton handkerchief belonging to one of the maids. Mademoiselles dark well-dressed hair had become unbound and was straying across her face, while her handsome gown had been torn in the attempt to unloosen her corsets.
Yes, said the police officer; they had better take her upstairs. We will remain here and make inquiries. This is a very queer affairto say the least, he added, glancing suspiciously at Henfrey.
While the servants carried their unconscious mistress tenderly upstairs, the fussy little doctor went to the telephone to call Doctor Duponteil, the principal surgeon of Monaco. He had hesitated whether to take the victim to the hospital, but had decided that the operation could be done just as effectively upstairs. So, after speaking to Duponteil, he also spoke to the sister at the hospital, asking her to send up two nurses immediately to the Villa Amette.
In the meantime Inspector Ogier was closely questioning the young Englishman.
Like everyone in Monte Carlo he knew the mysterious Mademoiselle by sight. More than once the suspicions of the police had been aroused against her. Indeed, in the archives of the Prefecture there reposed a bulky dossier containing reports of her doings and those of her friends. Yet there had never been anything which would warrant the authorities to forbid her from remaining in the Principality.
This tragedy, therefore, greatly interested Ogier and his colleague. Both of them had spent many years in the service of the Paris Surete under the great Goron before being appointed to the responsible positions in the detective service of Monaco.
Then you knew the lady? Ogier asked of the young man who was naturally much upset over the startling affair, and the more so because the secret of his fathers mysterious death had been filched from him by the hand of some unknown assassin.
No, I did not know her personally, Henfrey replied somewhat lamely. I came to call upon her, and she received me.
Why did you call at this hour? Could you not have called in the daytime?
Mademoiselle was in the Rooms until late, he said.
Ah! Then you followed her homeeh?
Yes, he admitted.
The police officer pursed his lips and raised his eyes significantly at his colleague.
And what was actually happening when the shot was fired? Describe it to me, please, he demanded.
I was standing just hereand he crossed the room and stood upon the spot where he had beenMademoiselle was over there beside the window. I had my back to the window. She was about to tell me somethingto answer a question I had put to herwhen someone from outside shot her through the open glass door.
And you did not see her assailant?
I saw nothing. The shot startled me, and, seeing her staggering, I rushed to her. In the meantime the assailantwhoever he wasdisappeared!
The brown-bearded man smiled dubiously. As he stood beneath the electric light Hugh saw doubt written largely upon his countenance. He instantly realized that Ogier disbelieved his story.
After all it was a very lame one. He would not fully admit the reason of his visit.
But tell me, msieur, exclaimed the police officer. It seems extraordinary that any person should creep along this veranda. And he walked out and looked about in the moonlight. If the culprit wished to shoot Mademoiselle in secret, then he would surely not have done so in your presence. He might easily have shot her as she was on her way home. The road is lonely up here.
I agree, monsieur, replied the Englishman. The whole affair is, to me, a complete mystery. I saw nobody. But it was plain to me that when I called Mademoiselle was seated out upon the veranda. Look at her chairand the cushions! It was very hot and close in the Rooms to-night, and probably she was enjoying the moonlight before retiring to bed.
Quite possibly, he agreed. But that does not alter the fact that the assassin ran considerable risk in coming along the veranda in the full moonlight and firing through the open door. Are you quite certain that Mademoiselles assailant was outsideand not inside? he asked, with a queer expression upon his aquiline face.
Hugh saw that he was hinting at his suspicion that he himself had shot her!
Quite certain, he assured him. Why do you ask?
I have my own reasons, replied the police officer with a hard laugh. Now, tell me what do you know about Mademoiselle Ferad?
Practically nothing.
Then why did you call upon her?
I have told you. I desired some information, and she was about to give it to me when the weapon was fired by an unknown hand.
Unknowneh?
Yes. Unknown to me. It might be known to Mademoiselle.
And what was this information you so urgently desired?
Some important information. I travelled from London to Monte Carlo in order to obtain it.
Ah! Then you had a motive in coming heresome strong motive, I take it?
Yes. A very strong motive. I wanted her to clear up certain mysterious happenings in England.
Ogier was instantly alert.
What happenings? he asked, for he recollected the big dossier and the suspicions extending over four or five years concerning the real identity and mode of life of the handsome, sphinx-like woman Yvonne Ferad.
Hugh Henfrey was silent for a few moments. Then he said:
Happenings in London thatwell, that I do not wish to recall.
Ogier again looked him straight in the face.
I suggest, Msieur Henfreyfor Hugh had given him his nameI suggest that you have been attracted by Mademoiselle as so many other men have been. She seems to exercise a fatal influence upon some people.
I know, Hugh said. I have heard lots of things about her. Her success at the tables is constant and uncanny. Even the Administration are interested in her winnings, and are often filled with wonder.
True, msieur. She keeps herself apart. She is a mysterious personthe most remarkable in all the Principality. We, at the Bureau, have heard all sorts of curious stories concerning heronce it was rumoured that she was the daughter of a reigning European sovereign. Then we take all the reports with the proverbial grain of salt. That Mademoiselle is a woman of outstanding intellect and courage, as well as of great beauty, cannot be denied. Therefore I tell you that I am intensely interested in this attempt upon her life.
And so am I, Hugh said. I have a strong reason to be.
Cannot you tell me that reason? inquired the officer of the Surete, still looking at him very shrewdly. Why fence with me?
Henfrey hesitated. Then he replied:
It is a purely personal matter.
And yet, you have said that you were not acquainted with Mademoiselle! remarked Ogier suspiciously.
That is quite true. The first time I have spoken to her was this evening, a few minutes before the attempt was made upon her life.
Then your theory is that while you stood in conversation with her somebody crept along the veranda and shot hereh?
Yes.
Ogier smiled sarcastically, and turning to his colleague, ordered him to search the room. The inspector evidently suspected the young Englishman of having shot Mademoiselle, and the search was in order to try and discover the weapon.
Meanwhile the brown-bearded officer called the Italian manservant, who gave his name as Giulio Cataldi, and who stated that he had been in Mademoiselle Ferads service a little over five years.
Have you ever seen this Englishman before? Ogier asked, indicating Hugh.
Never, until to-night, msieur, was the reply. He called about twenty minutes after Mademoiselles return from the Rooms.
Has Mademoiselle quarrelled with anybody of late?
Not to my knowledge, msieur. She is of a very quiet and even disposition.
Is there anyone you know who might possess a motive to shoot her? asked Ogier. The crime has not been committed with a motive of robbery, but either out of jealousy or revenge.
I know of nobody, declared the highly respectable Italian, whose moustache was tinged with grey. He shrugged his shoulders and showed his palms as he spoke.
Mademoiselle arrived here two months ago, I believe? queried the police official.
Yes, msieur. She spent the autumn in Paris, and during the summer she was at Deauville. She also went to London for a brief time, I believe.
Did she ever live in London? asked Hugh eagerly, interrupting Ogiers interrogation.
Yesonce. She had a furnished house on the Cromwell Road for about six months.
How long ago? asked Henfrey.
Please allow me to make my inquiries, monsieur! exclaimed the detective angrily.
But the question I ask is of greatest importance to me in my own inquiries, Hugh persisted.
I am here to discover the identity of Mademoiselles assailant, Ogier asserted. And I will not brook your interference.
Mademoiselle has been shot, and it is for you to discover who fired at her, snapped the young Englishman. I consider that I have just as much right to put a question to this man as you have, that ishe added with sarcasmthat is, of course, if you dont suspect him of shooting his mistress.
Well, I certainly do not suspect that, the Frenchman said. But, to tell you candidly, your story of the affair strikes me as a very improbable one.
Ah! laughed Hugh, I thought so! You suspect meeh? Very well. Where is the weapon?
Perhaps you have hidden it, suggested the other meaningly. We shall, no doubt, find it somewhere.
I hope you will, and that will lead to the arrest of the guilty person, Hugh laughed. Then he was about to put further questions to the man Cataldi when Doctor Leneveu entered the room.
How is she? demanded Hugh breathlessly.
The countenance of the fussy little doctor fell.
Monsieur, he said in a low earnest voice, I much fear that Mademoiselle will not recover. My colleague Duponteil concurs with that view. We have done our best, but neither of us entertain any hope that she will live! Then turning to Ogier, the doctor exclaimed: This is an amazing affairespecially in face of what is whispered concerning the unfortunate lady. What do you make of it?
The officer of the Surete knit his brows, and with frankness replied:
At present I am entirely mystifiedentirely mystified!
FOURTH CHAPTER
WHAT THE DOSSIER CONTAINED
Walter Brock was awakened at four oclock that morning by Hugh touching him upon the shoulder.
He started up in bed and staring at his friends pale, haggard face exclaimed:
Good Heavens!why, whats the matter?
Mademoiselle of Monte Carlo has been shot! the other replied in a hard voice.
Shot! gasped Brock, startled. What do you mean?
Briefly Hugh who had only just entered the hotel, explained the curious circumstanceshow, just at the moment she had been about to reveal the secret of his fathers death she was shot.
Most extraordinary! declared his friend. Surely, we have not been followed here by someone who is determined to prevent you from knowing the truth!
It seems much like it, Walter, replied the younger man very seriously. There must be some strong motive or no person would dare to shoot her right before my eyes.
Agreed. Somebody who is concerned in your fathers death has adopted this desperate measure in order to prevent Mademoiselle from telling you the truth.
Thats exactly my opinion, my dear Walter. If it was a crime for gain, or through motives of either jealousy or revenge, Mademoiselle would certainly have been attacked on her way home. The road is quite deserted towards the crest of the hill.
What do the police say?
They do not appear to trouble to track Mademoiselles assailant. They say they will wait until daylight before searching for footprints on the gravel outside.
Ah! They are not very fond of making arrests within the Principality. Its such a bad advertisement for the Rooms. The Administration like to show a clean sheet as regards serious crime. Our friends here leave it to the French or Italian police to deal with the criminals so that the Principality shall prove itself the most honest State in Europe, Brock said.
The police, I believe, suspect me of shooting her, said Hugh bluntly.
Thats very awkward. Why?
Wellthey dont know the true reason I went to see her, or they would never believe me to be guilty of a crime so much against my own interests.
Brock, who was still sitting up in bed in his pale blue silk pyjamas, reflected a few moments.
Well, Hugh, he said at last, after all it is only natural that they should believe that you had a hand in the matter. Even though she told you the truth, it is quite within reason that you should have suddenly become incensed against her for the part she must have played in your fathers mysterious death, and in a frenzy of anger you shot her.
Hugh drew a long breath, and his eyebrows narrowed.
By Jove! I had never regarded it in that light before! he gasped. But what about the weapon?
You might easily have hidden it before the arrival of the police. You admit that you went out on the veranda. Therefore if they do chance to find the weapon in the garden then their suspicions will, no doubt, be considerably increased. Its a pity, old man, that you didnt make a clean breast of the motive of your visit.
I now see my horrible mistake, Henfrey admitted. I thought myself wise to preserve silence, to know nothing, and now I see quite plainly that I have only brought suspicion unduly upon myself. The police, however, know Yvonne Ferad to be a somewhat mysterious person.
Which renders the situation only worse, Brock said. Then, after a pause, he added: Now that you have declined to tell the police why you visited the Villa Amette and have, in a way, defied them, it will be best to maintain that attitude. Tell them nothing, no matter what happens.