Larssen laughed harshly. "An out-of-elbows reporter on a sensational yellow journal! Do you dream for one instant that his word would stand against mine in a court of law? See here, Matheson, you'd better go back and read over your brief with the man who's instructing you. He's muddled up the facts."
"Then what are the facts?" challenged Matheson.
Lars Larssen took a deep breath before he leaned forward across the horseshoe desk to answer. At the same time he moved a hidden lever under the desk. This was a device allowing any conversation of his to be heard telephonically in the adjoining room where his private secretary worked. It was useful occasionally when he needed an unseen listener to a business interview of his; and now he particularly wanted Sylvester to hear what he and Matheson were saying to one another. It would give Sylvester his cue if he were to be called in at any point.
"Matheson," said the shipowner, "the facts of your case don't make a very edifying story. If you're sure you want to hear them as you'd hear them in a court of law, I'll spare another five minutes to tell you. You're quite certain you'd like to hear the outside view of your actions this past three weeks?"
"I'm listening."
With brutal directness Larssen proceeded: "On the night of March 14th, you decided you were tired of your wife. Thought you'd like a change of bedfellow. You left your coat and stick about a quarter-mile down the left bank of the Seine from Neuilly bridge, so that people would think you dead. You cut a knife-slit in the ribs of your coat to make a neater story of it. Then, as I guessed you would, you went honeymooning with the other woman. Away to the sunny South. I had you followed.
"You registered together at the Hotel du Forum at Arles, taking the names of John Rivière and Elaine Verney. A man doesn't change his name unless he's got some shady reason for it. Every court of law knows that. You dallied for a day or two at Arles, getting this woman to write a lying letter to your wife saying that you were down with fever. We have that letter."
"We!"
"Yes, we. We have that letter. I advised your wife to let me keep it for possible emergencies. I have it in this office along with the other evidence. I don't bluff—shall I ring and have my secretary show it to you?"
"Get on."