Juve was amazed. "Look here," he said, "where do you come from, Michel? The Prefecture?"
"No, chief, from the head office of No. IX."
"Then how do you know we were at the Cité Frochot?"
Taken aback, Michel replied: "Why, from seeing you here, after the affair."
"What affair?" insisted Juve.
"Well, chief, it's this way. The three of us were on duty this morning at the Rue Rochefoucauld Station. About twenty minutes ago the telephone rang and I heard a woman asking in a broken and choked voice if it was the police station. On my answering it was, she begged me to come to the rescue, crying, 'Murder! I'm dying!'"
"What then?" questioned Juve.
"Then I asked who was speaking, but unfortunately Central had cut me off."
"You made inquiries?"
"Yes, chief, and after a quarter of an hour Central told me that only one subscriber had called up the police station, the number being 928-12, name of Doctor Chaleck in the Cité Frochot."