“And I suppose the shower bath is in the corner of the room near the window?” Juve went on. “And the window was partly open, or had been until the maid went in to prepare her mistress’s bath? It’s quite interesting! The man had just succeeded in stealing the necklace from Mme. Van den Rosen, whose rooms are next to Princess Sonia’s: for some reason or other he had not been able to escape through the corridor, and so he naturally made up his mind to get into the Princess’s suite, which he did by the simple process of stepping over the railing on the balcony and walking in through the open window of the dressing-room.”
“And then Nadine came in, and he had to hide?”
“No, no!” said Juve, “you are getting on too fast. If that had been so, there would have been no need for all the bath business; besides, the Princess was robbed, too, you know. That was not just chance, it was planned; and so if the thief hid in the shower bath he did so on purpose to wait for the Princess.”
“But he did not want her!” Fuselier retorted: “very much the reverse. If he was in the room before anybody else, all he had to do was, take the pocketbook and go!”
“Not a bit of it!” said Juve. “This robbery took place at the end of the month, when the Princess would have big monthly bills to meet, as the thief must have known. He must have found out that she had withdrawn her portfolio and money from the custody of the hotel. But he must have been ignorant of where she had placed the portfolio; and he waited for her to ask her—and she told him!”
“That’s a pretty tall yarn!” M. Fuselier protested. “What on earth do you base it all upon? The Princess would never have shown the man the drawer where the money was taken from!”
“Yes, she did!” said Juve. “Look here: this is what happened: the fellow wanted to steal this pocketbook, and did not know where it was. He hid in the shower bath and waited, either for the Princess to go to bed or take a bath, either of which would place her at his mercy. When the lady was in the bath he appeared, threatened her, until she was terrified, and then bucked her up a bit again and hit on the dodge of putting out the electric light—not out of respect for her wounded feelings, but simply in order to get a chance to search through her clothes and make sure that the pocketbook was not there. I am convinced that if he had found it then he would have bolted at once. But he didn’t find it. So he went to the end of the next room and waited for the Princess to come to him there, which is precisely what she did. He did not know where the money was, so he watched every movement of her eyes and saw them go automatically towards the drawer and stay there; then he slipped his card into the drawer, abstracted the pocketbook, and took his leave, driving his impudence and skill to the length of making her see him to the door!”
“Upon my word, Juve, you are a wonder,” M. Fuselier said admiringly. “I’ve spent the entire day cross-examining everybody in the hotel, and came to no definite conclusion; and you, who have not seen anything or anybody connected with it, sit in that chair and in five minutes clear up the entire mystery. What a pity you won’t believe that Fantômas had a finger in this pie! What a pity you won’t take up the search!”
Juve paid no heed to the compliments to his skill. He took out his watch and looked at the time.
“I must go,” he said; “it’s quite time I was at my own work. Well, we may not have been wasting our time, M. Fuselier. I admit I had not paid much attention to the Royal Palace Hotel robbery. You have really interested me in it. I won’t make any promises, but I think I shall very likely come again in a day or two for another talk with you about the case. It really interests me now. And when once I’m quit of one or two pressing jobs, I don’t say I shan’t ask leave to go thoroughly into it with you.”
XII
A Knockout Blow
The staff of the Royal Palace Hotel were just finishing dinner, and the greatest animation prevailed in the vast white-tiled servants’ hall. The tone of the conversation varied at different tables, for the servants jealously observed a strict order of precedence among themselves, but the present topic was the same at all, the recent sensational robbery from Mme. Van den Rosen and the Princess Sonia Danidoff. At one table, smaller than the rest, a party of upper servants sat, under-managers or heads of departments: M. Louis was here, the general manager, M. Muller the superintendent of the second floor, M. Ludovic chief valet, M. Maurice head footman, M. Naud chief cashier, and last but not least Mlle. Jeanne the young lady cashier whose special duty it was to take charge of all the moneys and valuables deposited in the custody of the hotel by guests who wished to relieve themselves of the responsibility of keeping these in their own rooms. This small and
