“Monsieur will give me a free hand in the matter?”
“Absolutely. And here is a thousand francs in gold; you may need money. Order a carriage for the journey, and tell them not to spare the horses. I am in a hurry for your report, find wings; but, above all, find the criminal.”
“Yes, monsieur. It will be a difficult matter. The poisoning of a man is a simple affair, the evidence simply shouts round it for the person who has ears to hear. A dog is different. But I will find the criminal—unless——”
“Unless, monsieur, the dog poisoned itself by eating some garbage.”
“Oh, no. Atalanta was very delicate in her feeding. No, it was the work of some scoundrel, of that I am sure.”
“Well, monsieur, we will see,” said Lavenne.
He bowed to the Minister of Police, and left the room.