“I’ve got a taxi, ma’am,” stammered the woman, all out of breath. “I had the luck to find one when I left the house and I kept it. We must be quick, ma’am. . . . The commissary of police told me to . . .”
Patrice, who was downstairs by this time, heard nothing more; but the last words decided him. He seized hold of Ya-Bon as he passed; and the two of them leapt into a cab, telling the driver to follow Coralie’s taxi.
“There’s news, Ya-Bon, there’s news!” said Patrice. “The plot is thickening. The woman is obviously one of the Essarès’ servants and she has come for her mistress by the commissary’s orders. Therefore the colonel’s disclosures are having their effect. House searched; magistrate’s inquest; every sort of worry for Little Mother Coralie; and you have the cheek to advise me to be careful! You imagine that I would leave her to her own devices at such a moment! What a mean nature you must have, my poor Ya-Bon!”
An idea occurred to him; and he exclaimed:
“Heavens! I hope that ruffian of an Essarès hasn’t allowed himself to be caught! That would be a disaster! But he was far too sure of himself. I expect he’s been trifling away his time. . . .”
All through the drive this fear excited Captain Belval and removed his last scruples. In the end his certainty was absolute. Nothing short of Essarès’ arrest could have produced the servant’s attitude of panic or Coralie’s precipitate departure. Under these conditions, how could he hesitate to interfere in a matter in which his revelations would enlighten the police? All the more so as, by revealing less or more, according to circumstances, he could make his evidence subservient to Coralie’s interests.
The two cabs pulled up almost simultaneously outside the Essarès’ house, where a car was already standing. Coralie alighted and disappeared through the carriage-gate. The maid and Siméon also crossed the pavement.
“Come along,” said Patrice to the Senegalese.
The front-door was ajar and Patrice entered. In the big hall were two policemen on duty. Patrice acknowledged their presence with a hurried movement of his hand and passed them with the air of a man who belonged to the house and whose importance was so great that nothing done without him could be of any use.
The sound of his footsteps echoing on the flags reminded him of the flight of Bournef and his accomplices. He was on the right road. Moreover, there was a drawing-room on the left, the room, communicating with the library, to which the accomplices had carried the colonel’s body. Voices came from the library. He walked across the drawing-room.