"Inquiries made by the Municipal Laboratory about those chocolates, yielded no results. No traces can be found that Mme. D. ever sent chocolates to be analysed, either in her own name or in any other name at her address."
(Dossier Cote 3060)
In this way was yet another "story," most damaging to my cause, told, spread, universally discussed—and finally proved to be entirely false! Once more I was vindicated, but once more... incalculable harm had been done me.
This fantastic story of the "poisoned chocolates" had a sequel, whether direct or indirect, I cannot tell. At any rate, shortly afterwards, the body of M. Steinheil was exhumed. In December 1908, that of my mother had been exhumed, and now, my husband's remains were once more examined, so that a search might be made for any traces of narcotic or poison.
Dr. Courtois-Suffit, had made a thorough "medical" examination, immediately after the crime, but ten months later, Dr. Balthazard was requested by M. André to make a second autopsy!
Although M. Steinheil was buried in the family vault at L'Hay, Marthe's consent was not even asked for the exhumation. The tomb was, as it were, broken into, and the body of her father removed to be examined once more. (Yet another unlawful act committed by the law!) She—and I—only heard of the exhumation several days after it had taken place. I can hardly believe that such an arbitrary and scandalous act could have been committed in any other civilised country.
The conclusion of Dr. Balthazard's lengthy and most painstaking report was that "toxicological examination of the viscera... did not reveal any traces of narcotic or stupefactive.'"
There was no mention whatever of poison. In this same and final report, Dr. Balthazard went on to say that: "Finally, M. Steinheil died without a struggle, from strangulation by a cord; it appears that he died at the spot where he was found... (away from his bed, on the threshold of the bath-room). Secondly, Mme. Japy died of suffocation owing to the introduction of a voluminous gag of wadding into her mouth; before she was dead, a cord was tightened round her neck; Mme. Japy appears to have died on her bed at the very place where her body was found. There were no traces of violence to indicate that she struggled against an aggressor...."
In Cote 197, I read with interest the statements made by M. Rousseau, a mechanic at the large printing works in the Impasse Ronsin—which employ some two thousand men and women.