On his return to his hotel he found the following cablegram awaiting him: "Trunk forwarded Martin, Second Avenue; receipt signed 'Mrs. Martin.'"
Brissard now communicated with the American authorities, only to learn that no such person as Martin had resided at the number in Second Avenue in the memory of the present tenant, the place being a French boarding-house.
The detective now returned to London, where Dessaure met him, frantically excited. He had found a countryman who had seen Morant in New York, where he held the position of chef at a prominent and fashionable hotel. This was only six months ago, but the man could not remember the name of the hotel, having lost or mislaid the card Morant had given him. One thing he did remember, however—Morant was going under the name of "Melin."
M. Brissard, believing that Morant was still in New York and that he could expedite matters by going there himself, promptly took passage with Dessaure. It struck him as peculiar that a man who was in possession, or had been in possession, of what was practically a small fortune should seek employment; but the officer did not know, perhaps, that the position of chef in a large hotel is a most lucrative one. The two searchers arrived in due course in New York and rooms were taken in the French quarter of the city, both men posing as wine merchants. Dessaure, who had been in America before, took rooms in a house much frequented by cooks, while Brissard lived in a small French hotel near by. For several weeks the two worked with untiring energy, making careful inquiries. Brissard himself visited every hotel of prominence in New York and Brooklyn, inquiring there of the hotel detectives for a M. Melin, and being quietly taken into the kitchen to look over the various staffs. Not until three long months had passed, however, did they come upon even the semblance of a clue. Then, one evening, as M. Brissard and Dessaure were sitting at a small table in the bar-room of Brissard's hotel, there entered a young man whom the detective knew. He had at one time been a pastry-cook in the household of a French diplomat, and had been an habitué of Morant's wine-shop in Paris. Greetings were exchanged, and after some conversation Brissard casually remarked, "I wonder what became of old Morant?"
The young Frenchman looked up sharply. "It's strange that you should speak of him," he said. "Only two weeks ago he took rooms at the house where I am living. It happened that I was going out just as he came in. I greeted him, but he refused to recognise me, and, stranger still, after paying a month's rent in advance he never came near the house again."
Here, at last, was something to work on—Morant was still in New York. Brissard now began what was practically a house-to-house search, for every place patronized by foreigners was visited, the detective taking one district and Dessaure another. It was tedious work, but Morant was somewhere in New York and Brissard meant to find him, his assistant being perhaps even more eager than himself. For two more weeks the pair searched for many hours each day; but it was Dessaure who got the first tangible evidence as to Morant's whereabouts, and this was in the identical house where Dessaure had lived on his first visit to America some years before! Dessaure himself had quite forgotten this, and when the ring of the bell was answered by a maid, he politely asked if "M. Melin" was living there.
"No one of that name is known here," was the answer. Dessaure, as usual, then produced a photograph of Morant.
"Ah," said the girl; "that is M. Martin, who has been here some four weeks. He and madame left only yesterday. They are returning to France."
Dessaure at once looked up Brissard and told him of his discovery. Together they returned to the house, and Brissard succeeded in gaining admittance to the rooms only just vacated by the Morants, where every scrap of paper in the rooms and wardrobe was carefully collected. Brissard had an interview with the proprietor of the place, and then hurried to police headquarters, from where men were sent to the different steamship offices to look over the bookings. The French authorities were notified, and the ships which had sailed the day before and on that day were communicated with by wireless telegraphy.
Meanwhile, Brissard had found the expressman who had removed Morant's belongings, taking them to the docks of the French line of steamers labelled for the ship sailing on the following day. This was getting close. With the assistance of the American police it was now ascertained that the luggage and its owners were booked under the name of "Martin," and a man was detailed to watch the trunks in case M. "Martin" changed his mind about sailing. Next morning, M. Brissard, Dessaure, and two American detectives, armed with a provisional warrant, awaited the appearance of the much-wanted man. The ship was to sail at noon, and shortly after ten a well-dressed woman walked slowly into the receiving dock and inquired the way to that portion of the pier where was located the letter "M" (all luggage being collected under the initial of its owner). She was directed some distance ahead, and, arriving at the location, inspected some of the luggage.