Day after day the detectives came and told me of what was going on. Journalists called... and each had his theory, which he propounded with the confidence and eloquence of those who deal in theories only. Had I listened to everybody I should have denounced at least one hundred persons as being the murderers! The majority mentioned Couillard and Wolff, and as the days went by these two names became more and more deeply engraven on my mind. Alas! all these suggestions were, a few weeks later, to hypnotise me to such an extent that, without more proofs than mere circumstantial evidence, and the denunciations anonymous writers afforded, I accused first Couillard and then Wolff of being the criminal.

Mme. Buisson rarely came to Bellevue now. Pierre came to see Marthe, secretly, from time to time, and held a pistol to my head when he told me in his usual weak, timid and despondent manner, that the murderers would have to be found, or else it would be impossible for him to marry Marthe! An extraordinary dilemma!... This absurd condition revolted my daughter so much that her love for Pierre received a decisive blow, and, burying her head against my breast she cried: "Is that real love?" and burst into sobs.

Meanwhile, the inspectors were at war with each other, as most inspectors are, or so I have since been told. Each had his clue, and derided the clues of his colleagues. But what was worse than that, some were for, and some against me!

One morning, an able investigator who knew exactly what was going on at the Sûreté, and in whom I had the greatest confidence, entered the room at Vert-Logis, where I was sitting with Marthe by my side. He was as white as a sheet.... "Madame," he stammered, "I don't know what underlies this affair, but it seems quite hopeless, things are at an absolute standstill.... The Burlingham clue is given up. It has been established that Mr. Burlingham was far away from Paris at the time of the murder. The 'stolen gowns' remains, of course, as undeniable proof of your innocence, and I still believe that some day the murderers may be arrested, but the case is all over so far as the Sûreté is concerned.... Ah! If only the 'stolen gowns' clue had been fully investigated at once!... It is so obvious that it provided the only way to the solution of the mystery.... The Impasse Ronsin murder case is classé!"

I had more than once complained of the apparent lack of activity and zeal on the part of the authorities, but I could not believe that it had been decided to abandon the whole affair.... I was amazed and pained.... Naturally, I asked the reason for this sudden breaking off of the investigations. No doubt my imagination erred, but in these pages I describe all my thoughts, and it seemed to me that in some way it had been discovered that the main object of the criminals was to get possession of the documents. Perhaps only one of the three men in the black gowns knew about them, and he had let the others steal the money and the jewels.... That one of the men had known of the documents could not be doubted, for he had demanded them, and I believe that the authorities having at last somehow discovered that there was what one may call a political side to the Impasse Ronsin mystery, were not anxious to go on with the investigations, which, if the whole affair was unravelled, might eventually prove a source of much unpleasantness and embarrassment to certain officials.... Or perhaps—for I went as far as that in my eagerness to solve the problem—the authorities knew all the time the secret of the strange affair, and had made some inquiries, reluctantly, and only for the sake of appearances.... But now, they had had enough and they wished to drop the matter altogether.... A rather wild surmise.... Perhaps they seriously thought that I was guilty, but being unable to establish a strong enough case against me, wanted to give up the whole affair, rather than waste time on investigations which would necessarily be fruitless, since, in their minds I had committed the murder! (That is, had strangled my mother and my husband, concealed the jewels and the money, ransacked the drawers, put everything into confusion, splashed ink on the floor, and then gagged and bound myself, hands, feet and body!)...

The truth is I did not know what to think.... But one thing I knew, and it was this: Three men in black gowns and a red-haired woman had been in my house on the night of May 30th-31st, 1908; they had stolen my money and jewels, and they had murdered my husband and my mother.

Those four persons were somewhere in the world, and, for my daughter's sake and my own, as well as in vindication of the law, I would find them.

CHAPTER XVII
THE THRONE-ROOM

AT the end of October—on the 25th, I believe—we left Bellevue, Marthe and I, and returned to Paris, to the house in the Impasse Ronsin. The chief alterations were completed, but there was still a great deal to do in the way of decoration, plumbing, and so on, and the workmen came every day.

I had been told the only way to stimulate investigations was to let the Press take the matter in hand.... But before I did that I wished to make one more attempt at interesting the law in the Impasse Ronsin case.