Not that he really wished Albert to be suspected of the crime, it was simply a precaution. He thought that he could so arrange matters that the police would waste their time in the pursuit of an imaginary criminal.
Nor did he think of ousting the Viscount de Commarin and putting himself in his place. His plan was simply this; the crime once committed, he would wait; things would take their own course, there would be negotiations, and ultimately he would compromise the matter at the price of a fortune.
He felt sure of his mother’s silence, should she ever suspect him guilty of the assassination.
His plan settled, he decided to strike the fatal blow on the Shrove Tuesday.
To neglect no precaution, he, that very same evening, took Juliette to the theatre, and afterwards to the masked ball at the opera. In case things went against him, he thus secured an unanswerable alibi.
The loss of his overcoat only troubled him for a moment. On reflection, he reassured himself, saying: “Pshaw! who will ever know?”
Everything had resulted in accordance with his calculations; it was, in his opinion, a matter of patience.
But when Madame Gerdy read the account of the murder, the unhappy woman divined her son’s work, and, in the first paroxysms of her grief, she declared that she would denounce him.
He was terrified. A frightful delirium had taken possession of his mother. One word from her might destroy him. Putting a bold face on it, however, he acted at once and staked his all.
To put the police on Albert’s track was to guarantee his own safety, to insure to himself, in the event of a probable success, Count de Commarin’s name and fortune.