“You would make Juno out a murderer, chief.”
“I would make her out what she is called, a leopard, who destroys. Whether she strikes the necessary blows herself or has them delivered for her—who can say? If she plots the fatalities and arranges them—who can tell? If the fiend himself protects her and drives men mad and makes them kill themselves—who can determine? The facts remain. Those who are hostile to that woman die. There you are.”
“I have lived rather a long time, chief, and I am not dead yet.”
“No; but if that woman suspects that you are on her trail with any chance of doing her a permanent injury, I wouldn’t give a centime for your life; not one.”
The detective shrugged his shoulders and smiled; but he made no further comment.
Then the chief took the receiver from the telephone hook, in answer to a call that came in at that moment.
CHAPTER XX.
THE SIREN EXERTS HER SKILL.
Had the detective known that Juno was in Paris at that moment he might possibly have paid more attention to the remarks of the chief of police.