"Remorse? No. A woman who loves has no remorse. Fear? Probably, but fear of what?"
Juve, without being aware of it, had just written on the paper of his note-book the ill-omened name which haunted him.
"Fantômas!"
"Why, of course, Fantômas killed Lady Beltham, and killed her in the house of Doctor Chaleck, an accomplice. And Loupart, a third accomplice, got his mistress to write to me, and I believed the denunciation. Loupart got us to dog him, led me unawares behind the curtains in the study, and made me witness that Chaleck was innocent. Oh, the ruse was a clever one. Josephine herself, by the two shots she received some days later at Lâriboisière, became a victim. In short, the scent was crossed and broken."
The detective snatched up his hat, saw carefully to the charges of his pocket revolver, then gravely and solemnly cried:
"It is you and I now, Fantômas!" with which he left his rooms.
Juve and Fandor were entering a taxi-cab.
"To Neuilly Church," cried Juve to the driver. "And, now, my dear Fandor, you must be thinking me crazy, as less than two hours ago I sent you off to write an article, and here I come taking you from your paper and carrying you away in this headlong fashion. But just listen to the tale of this morning's doings."
Juve then gave a full account of Maître Gérin's visit and wound up by saying: "It is through Lady Beltham that we must unearth that monster, Fantômas."