"I thought as much," said Juve, as he went down on all fours and proceeded to examine the carpeting of the room between the bed and the door, a distance of some seven feet. The carpet, of very close fabric, afforded no trace, but on a white bearskin rug the detective noted in places tufts of hair glued together as if something moist and sticky had passed over it. He cut off one of these tufts and shut it carefully in his pocketbook. He then went to the door which was hidden by a velvet curtain. He could not suppress a cry of amazement. In the lower panel of the door a round hole had been made about six or eight inches in diameter. It was four inches above the floor, and might have been made for a cat.
"Did you have that hole made in the door?" asked Juve.
"No. I don't know what it is," replied the American.
"Neither do I," rejoined Juve, "but I have an idea." Doctor Plassin was jubilant.
"There you are!" he cried. "A lasso! And it was thrust in by that hole."
Through the window, Verdier called:
"M. Inspector, the charwoman is coming."
Juve looked at his watch.
"Half-past nine. I will see her in a minute."