The girl bowed and, having seen her settled behind the screen, the Chief turned to the messenger.
‘I’ll see him now.’
In a few seconds M. Boirac entered the room. He was a strongly built man of rather under middle age, with thick black hair and a large moustache. On his face was an expression of strain, as if he was passing through a period of acute bodily or mental pain. He was dressed entirely in black and his manner was quiet and repressed.
He looked round the room and then, as M. Chauvet rose to greet him, he bowed ceremoniously.
‘M. le Chef de la Sûreté?’ he asked, and, as M. Chauvet bowed him to a chair, continued,—
‘I have called to see you, monsieur, on a very painful matter. I had hoped to have been able to do so alone,’ he paused slightly, ‘but these gentlemen, I presume, are completely in your confidence?’ He spoke slowly with a deliberate pronunciation of each word, as if he had thought out whether that was the best possible he could use and had come to the conclusion that it was.
‘If, monsieur,’ returned M. Chauvet, ‘your business is in connection with the recent unfortunate disappearance of your wife, these gentlemen are the officers who are in charge of the case, and their presence would be, I think, to the advantage of all of us.’
M. Boirac sprang from his chair, deep emotion showing under his iron control.
‘Then it is she?’ he asked, in a suppressed voice. ‘You know? It seemed possible from the advertisement, but I wasn’t sure. I hoped—that perhaps—— There is no doubt, I suppose?’
‘I shall tell you all we know, M. Boirac, and you can form your own conclusions. First, here is a photograph of the body found.’