And without another word of explanation, he dragged his companion rapidly along.
When they reached the Rue de Grenelle, Lecoq saw a messenger leaning against the door of a wine-shop. Lecoq called him.
“Come, my boy,” said he; “I wish you to go to the Hotel de Sairmeuse and ask for Camille. Tell her that her uncle is waiting her here.”
“But, sir——”
“What, you have not gone yet?”
The messenger departed; the two policemen entered the wine-shop, and Father Absinthe had scarcely had time to swallow a glass of brandy when the lad returned.
“Monsieur, I was unable to see Mademoiselle Camille. The house is closed from top to bottom. The duchess died very suddenly this morning.”
“Ah! the wretch!” exclaimed the young policeman.
Then, controlling himself, he mentally added:
“He must have killed his wife on returning home, but his fate is sealed. Now, I shall be allowed to continue my investigations.”