“The handful of hair I found in the right hand of the victim.”
He produced the hair; it was of a beautiful blond color, and glittered like threads of gold. Charles looked at it, and said:
“That is Mademoiselle Antoinette’s hair. There can be no doubt of it. And, then, there is another thing. I believe that the knife, which I saw on my first visit to the room, belonged to her. She used it to cut the leaves of books.”
A long, dreadful silence followed, as if the crime had acquired an additional horror by reason of having been committed by a woman. At last, the magistrate said:
“Let us assume, until we are better informed, that the baron was killed by Antoinette Bréhat. We have yet to learn where she concealed herself after the crime, how she managed to return after Charles left the house, and how she made her escape after the arrival of the police. Have you formed any opinion on those points Ganimard?”
“None.”
“Well, then, where do we stand?”
Ganimard was embarrassed. Finally, with a visible effort, he said:
“All I can say is that I find in this case the same method of procedure as we found in the affair of the lottery ticket number 514; the same phenomena, which might be termed the faculty of disappearing. Antoinette Bréhat has appeared and disappeared in this house as mysteriously as Arsène Lupin entered the house of Monsieur Detinan and escaped therefrom in the company of the blonde lady.”
“Does that signify anything?”