The Crystal Stopper by Maurice Leblanc (good book club books .txt) 📗

He gave an order aloud:

“M. Lartigue, telephone to the Elysee and say that I request the favour of an audience for a communication of the utmost importance.”

He closed the door, came back to Clarisse and said:

“In any case, my intervention is limited to submitting your proposal.”

“Once you submit it, it will be accepted.”

A long silence followed. Clarisse’s features expressed so profound a delight that Prasville was struck by it and looked at her with attentive curiosity. For what mysterious reason did Clarisse wish to save Gilbert and Vaucheray? What was the incomprehensible link that bound her to those two men? What tragedy connected those three lives and, no doubt, Daubrecq’s in addition?

“Go ahead, old boy,” thought Lupin, “cudgel your brains: you’ll never spot it! Ah, if we had asked for Gilbert’s pardon only, as Clarisse wished, you might have twigged the secret! But Vaucheray, that brute of a Vaucheray, there really could not be the least bond between Mme. Mergy and him.... Aha, by Jingo, it’s my turn now!... He’s watching me ... The inward soliloquy is turning upon myself... ‘I wonder who that M. Nicole can be? Why has that little provincial usher devoted himself body and soul to Clarisse Mergy? Who is that old bore, if the truth were known? I made a mistake in not inquiring... I must look into this.... I must rip off the beggar’s mask. For, after all, it’s not natural that a man should take so much trouble about a matter in which he is not directly interested. Why should he also wish to save Gilbert and Vaucheray? Why? Why should he?...” Lupin turned his head away. “Look out!... Look out!... There’s a notion passing through that red-tape-merchant’s skull: a confused notion which he can’t put into words. Hang it all, he mustn’t suspect M. Lupin under M. Nicole! The thing’s complicated enough as it is, in all conscience!...”

But there was a welcome interruption. Prasville’s secretary came to say that the audience would take place in an hour’s time.

“Very well. Thank you,” said Prasville. “That will do.”

And, resuming the interview, with no further circumlocution, speaking like a man who means to put a thing through, he declared:

“I think that we shall be able to manage it. But, first of all, so that I may do what I have undertaken to do, I want more precise information, fuller details. Where was the paper?”

“In the crystal stopper, as we thought,” said Mme. Mergy.

“And where was the crystal stopper?”

“In an object which Daubrecq came and fetched, a few days ago, from the writing-desk in his study in the Square Lamartine, an object which I took from him yesterday.”

“What sort of object?”

“Simply a packet of tobacco, Maryland tobacco, which used to lie about on the desk.”

Prasville was petrified. He muttered, guilelessly:

“Oh, if I had only known! I’ve had my hand on that packet of Maryland a dozen times! How stupid of me!”

“What does it matter?” said Clarisse. “The great thing is that the discovery is made.”

Prasville pulled a face which implied that the discovery would have been much pleasanter if he himself had made it. Then he asked:

“So you have the list?”

“Yes.”

“Show it to me.”

And, when Clarisse hesitated, he added:

“Oh, please, don’t be afraid! The list belongs to you, and I will give it back to you. But you must understand that I cannot take the step in question without making certain.”

Clarisse consulted M. Nicole with a glance which did not escape Prasville. Then she said:

“Here it is.”

He seized the scrap of paper with a certain excitement, examined it and almost immediately said:

“Yes, yes... the secretary’s writing: I recognize it.... And the signature of the chairman of the company: the signature in red.... Besides, I have other proofs.... For instance, the torn piece which completes the left-hand top corner of this sheet...”

He opened his safe and, from a special cash-box, produced a tiny piece of paper which he put against the top left corner:

“That’s right. The torn edges fit exactly. The proof is undeniable. All that remains is to verify the make of this foreign-post-paper.”

Clarisse was radiant with delight. No one would have believed that the most terrible torture had racked her for weeks and weeks and that she was still bleeding and quivering from its effects.

While Prasville was holding the paper against a window-pane, she said to Lupin:

“I insist upon having Gilbert informed this evening. He must be so awfully unhappy!”

“Yes,” said Lupin. “Besides, you can go to his lawyer and tell him.”

She continued:

“And then I must see Gilbert to-morrow. Prasville can think what he likes.”

“Of course. But he must first gain his cause at the Elysee.”

“There can’t be any difficulty, can there?”

“No. You saw that he gave way at once.”

Prasville continued his examination with the aid of a magnifying-glass and compared the sheet with the scrap of torn paper. Next, he took from the cash-box some other sheets of letter-paper and examined one of these by holding it up to the light:

“That’s done,” he said. “My mind is made up. Forgive me, dear friend: it was a very difficult piece of work.... I passed through various stages. When all is said, I had my suspicions... and not without cause...”

“What do you mean?” asked Clarisse.

“One second.... I must give an order first.”

He called his secretary:

“Please telephone at once to the Elysee, make my apologies and say that I shall not require the audience, for reasons which I will explain later.”

He closed the door and returned to his desk. Clarisse and Lupin stood choking, looking at him in stupefaction, failing to understand this sudden change. Was he mad? Was it a trick on his part? A breach of faith? And was he refusing to keep his promise, now that he possessed the list?

He held it out to Clarisse:

“You can have it back.”

“Have it back?”

“And return it to Daubrecq.”