"Well?" I asked, as he paused.
"Well, it is evident that the drawer contains something more recent than the love letters of Louis Fourteenth. It must have been put in working order quite recently. But by whom and for what purpose? That is the mystery we have to solve—and it is a mighty pretty one. And here's another objection," he added. "That Frenchman knew about the secret drawer, because, according to our theory, he opened it and got killed. Why didn't he also know about the poison?"
That was an objection, truly, and the more I thought of it, the more serious it seemed.
"It may be," said Godfrey, at last, "that d'Aurelle was going it alone—that he had broken with the gang—"
"The gang?"
"Of course there is a gang. This thing has taken careful planning and concerted effort. And the leader of the gang is a genius! I wonder if you understand how great a genius? Think: he knows the secret of the drawer of Madame de Montespan's cabinet; but above all he knows the secret of the poison—the poison of the Medici! Do you know what that means, Lester?"
"What does it mean?" I asked, for Godfrey was getting ahead of me.
"It means he is a great criminal—a really great criminal—one of the elect from whom crime has no secrets. Observe. He alone knows the secret of the poison; one of his men breaks away from him, and pays for his mutiny with his life. He is the brain; the others are merely the instruments!"
"Then you don't believe it was by accident that cabinet was sent to
Vantine?"
"By accident? Not for an instant! It was part of a plot—and a splendid plot!"