‘And the man with the red beard?’
Lefarge, having got his information, was not much troubled to justify his little ruse.
‘One of our detectives. He has been on a case of theft of valuable luggage. I wondered if you had seen him. By the way, did M. Boirac bring back the bag with him? It wasn’t stolen?’
Lefarge smiled, and the butler, politely presuming this was meant for a joke, smiled also.
‘It was not stolen, monsieur. He brought it back all right.’
So far so good. M. Boirac had then, beyond any doubt or question, telephoned about 2.45 on Tuesday and had instructed the butler to take his bag to the Gare du Nord, as he had said. Further, he had called there himself and got the bag. So much was certain. But the statement he made of his movements on Sunday and Monday, and the unpacking of the cask on Monday night still remained to be tested. Lefarge spoke again:—
‘While I’m here, M. François, I wonder would you mind checking one or two dates for my report?’ He pulled out his notebook. ‘I will read out and perhaps you would please say if the items are correct. Saturday, 27th March, the day of the dinner-party.’
‘Correct, monsieur.’
‘Sunday, 28th, nothing special occurred. M. Boirac unpacked the cask in the evening.’
‘That’s not right, monsieur. It was on Monday the cask was unpacked.’