CHAPTER LVII.
[DETECTIVE LAMBERT CONTINUES HIS DIARY.]
On Monday morning Detective Lambert, as recorded in his diary, received Joseph Pitou's letter from Milan--this time written in French, which, being duly translated by Mrs. Lambert, caused the English detective profound astonishment and delight. It was in keeping with the literary methods he pursued that he did not insert the letter in his diary, and gave no intelligible account of its contents. Neither would it have been in accordance with his methods to have omitted mysterious reference to it:
"Letter from Joseph Pitou, commencing, 'My Very Dear and Very Illustrious Compatriot and Brother-in-arms,' which I look upon as foreign bunkum. I don't object to the 'illustrious,' but we English would have put it differently.
"If I were not so closely mixed up with the Catchpole Square Mystery I should regard friend Joseph's letter as being copied out of a romance. It reads like romance. But it isn't; it is a chapter, or several chapters, out of real life. It is a feather in one's cap to be connected with such a character--not friend Joseph, but the game we are hunting. Big game. The idea of coming face to face with it is enough to scare a timid man, but that kind of risk doesn't scare an Englishman. I won't do friend Joseph the injustice to say it might scare him.
"He sends me the portrait of Louis Lorenz. The mischief of it is that Lorenz's face is covered with hair--a fine crop which in the present instance, I do not admire. When a criminal is condemned to death in Gallicia don't they shave him? A felon loses his rights as a citizen, and his moustachios and whiskers are the property of the State.
"My man is clean shaven, but the blue shade on his chin and cheeks show that he has a fine stiff crop of his own. So have hundreds of thousands of other men. Still it is a link, though not a strong one.
"The point of resemblance is in the forehead and eyes. I took as clear a view as possible of his face, and I did not fail to observe that, whether by accident or design, he sat with his back to the light. True, he did not shift his chair to place himself in that position, but for all that I decide it was design and not accident. He seldom raised his eyes; when he did he found me ready for him. Now, if it had been Applebee who sat opposite him----"
And here, presumably, Lambert broke off to indulge in a laugh.
Near midnight on the same day he continued his diary, but there was no reference to Joseph Pitou or Louis Lorenz.
"At three o'clock called on Dr. Pye. An old woman opened the door. 'Dr. Pye at home?' I asked. 'Not at home,' she answered. 'Take my card up to him,' I said. 'Not at home,' she repeated, and jammed my leg in the door. I remonstrated. 'Take your leg away,' she said. Seeing that she was determined, and having no authority to enter the house, I took my leg away, and she slammed the door in my face. Faithful creature--and well paid for her services, I'll swear. Told the lie with a face of brass, for a lie it was. Dr. Pye was at home. Where is my maid from Norfolk? She was seen to leave the house on Saturday morning. Cab at the door. Small japanned box brought out, containing her wardrobe. Cab drove off with box on the roof and my Norfolk maid inside. I ought to have had more than one man on the watch, for then I should have known where the cab drove to. Most probably to a railway station, to take my maid to her native village. Norfolk has many villages. Why was Dr. Pye so anxious to be rid of her? Answer--because she did not slam the door in my face, as the old woman did.
"With the exception of two visits from Mr. Ezra Lynn (from the description given of the man there could be no mistake it was he) there has been nothing discovered. These visits were made on Saturday night and last night. On each occasion he came at eight o'clock. On Saturday night he remained two hours, last night he remained three. Dr. Pye has not been seen to leave the house. From the tradesmen who call there nothing has been learned. The establishment is carried on on ready money lines. Everything sent home is paid for at the servants' entrance. As a ready money customer Dr. Pye bears a good name in the neighbourhood.
"I was not content with one visit to Dr. Pye to-day. At five o'clock I presented myself again--on official business. The same old woman opened the door. 'Dr. Pye at home?' 'Not at home.' 'I must see him.' 'Not at home.' There was no chance of my putting my leg inside; the door was on the chain. 'I serve this notice upon him,' I said, thrusting the paper into the old woman's hand. 'It is an order for him to appear as a witness at the Bishop Street Police Court next Friday morning, the 22nd of March, at eleven o'clock, to give evidence in the case of the murder of Samuel Boyd.' The woman took the notice, and left me alone once more on the wrong side of the door.
"I have treated Mr. Rawdon, the contentious juryman, to a sight of me on three separate occasions. Not a word have I addressed to him; I have simply given him to understand in a silent manner that he is under observation. He does understand it, and does not appear to be very comfortable.
"Where is Mr. Dick Remington? He has not been seen by any of my people since Thursday last. Has he been spirited away? Is there any connection between his disappearance and the disappearance of Abel Death? To both questions I answer, no. The notice of his absence still remains on the house in Catchpole Square. Applebee informs me that the door of that house has not been opened from the day the notice was posted on it. He is keeping close watch upon the house, and I am keeping close watch upon him. When he makes a move, or discovers anything, I shall be at hand. Things can't remain in this quiet state much longer. Some time this week there will be a flare up. Don't you think so?"