“So now he is in possession of the powder formula?”
“He is.”
“Well, this is a fine business. We suspected something of the kind, for we have received notice from abroad that experiments have been made with smokeless powder of extraordinary power.”
“That is the one.”
Colonel Vallenot had forgotten all about the Deputy’s question. He pulled and twisted his moustache furiously. Finally he asked—
“When was poor Laforêt murdered?”
“Nearly a fortnight ago. But it was only later that we had the proof of his death. The poor fellow had been flung into the river, and the current had carried him into a millrace. He remained several days fastened to some piles under water, and it is only just recently that his body mounted to the surface. It was taken out, recognized, and buried as was fitting for an old soldier and an honest man. Now he is lying under the green turf of the cemetery of Ars.”
“And his murderers?”
“Ah, that is what I have come to speak to the Minister about. I know the villains.”
Vallenot sat upright.