“And Essarès’ plan failed.”
“Yes. But so did theirs. The colonel is dead. The others were only able to get hold of a few bundles of notes which have probably been taken from them by this time. But the struggle was not finished; and its dying agony has been a most shocking tragedy. According to your statement, a man who knew you and who was seeking to get into touch with you, was killed at nineteen minutes past seven, most likely by Essarès Bey, who dreaded his intervention. And, five hours later, at twenty-three past twelve, Essarès Bey himself was murdered, presumably by one of his accomplices. There is the whole story, Captain Belval. And, now that you know as much of it as I do, don’t you think that the investigation of this case should remain secret and be pursued not quite in accordance with the ordinary rules?”
After a moment’s reflection Patrice said:
“Yes, I agree.”
“There can be no doubt about it!” cried M. Masseron. “Not only will it serve no purpose to publish this story of gold which has disappeared and which can’t be found, which would startle the public and excite their imaginations, but you will readily imagine that an operation which consisted in draining off such a quantity of gold in two years cannot have been effected without compromising a regrettable number of people. I feel certain that my own enquiries will reveal a series of weak concessions and unworthy bargains on the part of certain more or less important banks and credit-houses, transactions on which I do not wish to insist, but which it would be the gravest of blunders to publish. Therefore, silence.”
“But is silence possible?”
“Why not?”
“Bless my soul, there are a good few corpses to be explained away! Colonel Fakhi’s, for instance?”
“Suicide.”
“Mustapha’s, which you will discover or which you have already discovered in the Galliéra garden?”