"It depends . . . it depends upon a number of facts as yet unknown. . . . And, moreover, the objection applies only to the nature of the motives. We are agreed as to the remainder."
"No."
This time, again, the denial was flat, blunt, almost impolite; so much so that the magistrate was absolutely nonplussed, dared not even raise a protest, and remained abashed in the presence of this strange collaborator. At last he said:
"We all have our theories. I should like to know yours."
"I have none."
The chief detective rose and, leaning on his stick, took a few steps through the room. All the people around him were silent. . . . And it was rather curious, in a group in which, after all, his position was only that of an auxiliary, a subordinate, to see this ailing, decrepit, elderly man dominate the others by the sheer force of an authority which they had to feel, even though they did not accept it. After a long pause he said:
"I should like to inspect the rooms which adjoin this suite."
The manager showed him the plan of the hotel. The only way out of the right-hand bedroom, which was Mr. Kesselbach's, was through the little entrance-hall of the suite. But the bedroom on the left, the room occupied by the secretary, communicated with another apartment.
"Let us inspect it," said M. Lenormand.
M. Formerie could not help shrugging his shoulders and growling: