“To find ze murderer? But ze police have done zat, Mademoiselle,” de Morny ejaculated.
“No, no; they have only arrested a man on suspicion. Miss Peggy thinks the murderer is still at large.”
“As Mademoiselle sinks, so sinks I,” answered the Count gallantly.
“It appears to me that the police acted with great discretion,” said de Smirnoff, who had been an interested listener. “But they do not make the most of their opportunities.”
“In what way, Count?” asked Dick.
“In regard to the burglar, Monsieur. Since my arrival here I have read with deep interest all the newspaper accounts of the tragedy. Frankly, I had not expected to find such a cause celebre in the Capital of this great country. It occurs to me that the burglar has not told all he knows.”
“Since telling his story at the inquest he refuses to talk.”
De Smirnoff shrugged his shoulders. “In my country he would be made to talk. The secret police of Russia, Monsieur, can extract information from the most unwilling of witnesses.”
“You really think Nelson is keeping something back?” asked Tom, incredulously. “Why, the poor devil is only too anxious to clear himself. Surely, if he knew he would not hesitate to tell the whole truth?”
“It is difficult to say, Monsieur. He may have been bribed to hold his tongue; money can do much these days. Again, fear of the murderer may force him to silence.”