"Oh! Inspector Juve's features are very well known to me, and I place myself entirely at his disposition."
The three men, led by Chaleck, ransacked all the rooms on the ground floor; finding nothing suspicious, they then went up to the floor above.
"I have only three more rooms to show you, gentlemen," said the doctor. "My bathroom, my bedroom and my study."
The bathroom disclosed nothing of interest, and Chaleck, throwing open the door of another room, announced, "My study."
Scarcely had Fandor set foot in the study, from which he and Juve had so recently made their escape, when a cry burst from his lips:
"Good God! How horrible!"
The apartment was in the greatest disorder. Overturned chairs bore witness to a violent struggle. One of the mahogany panels of the desk had been partly smashed in. A window curtain was torn and hanging, and the small gas stove was broken.
Fandor, at the first glance, saw what appeared to be a long trail of blood, extending from the window to the desk. Stepping forward quickly, he discovered the body of a woman frightfully crushed and covered with blood.
"Dead some time," cried Fandor. "The body is cold and the blood already congealed."
Juve tranquilly examined the room, and took in its tragic horror. "The telephone apparatus is overturned," he muttered to himself. "There has been a struggle between the victim and the murderer. Ah!—theft was the object of the crime."