‘He was a middle-sized man, monsieur, with a black pointed beard, and very well dressed.’
‘And what did he want you to do?’
‘On the next Thursday afternoon at half-past four I was to go to an address he gave me and load up a cask, and bring it to the corner of the rue de la Fayette, close to the Gare du Nord. He said he would meet me there and tell me where to take it.’
‘And did he?’
‘Yes. I got there first and waited about ten minutes, and then he came up. He took the old label off the cask and nailed on another he had with him. Then he told me to take the cask to the State Railway Goods Station in the rue Cardinet and book it to London. He gave me the freight as well as the ten francs for myself. He said he should know if the cask did not get to London, and threatened that if I played any tricks he would inform Messrs. Corot what I had done.’
This statement was not at all what La Touche had expected, and he was considerably puzzled.
‘What was the address he gave you at which you were to get the cask?’
‘I forget the exact address. It was from a large corner house in the Avenue de l’Alma.’
‘What?’ roared La Touche, springing excitedly to his feet. ‘The Avenue de l’Alma, do you say?’ He laughed aloud.
So this was it! The cask that went to St. Katherine’s Docks—the cask containing the body—had gone, not from the Gare du Nord, but direct from Boirac’s house! Fool that he was not to have thought of this! Light was at last dawning. Boirac had killed his wife—killed her in her own house—and had there packed her body in the cask, sending it direct to Felix. At long last La Touche had got the evidence he wanted, evidence that would clear Felix—evidence that would bring Boirac to the scaffold!