CHAPTER THE TWENTY-FIRST
AT THE HÔTEL LUXEMBOURG
As a detective Rivero was of outstanding shrewdness. He knew that more could be gained by patience than by sharp activity. Hence he did not go near the Rue de Lalande. Indeed, on the Saturday night we both left Montauban together, and travelled by that slow, cross-country route through the Aveyron, by way of Sévérac, down to the ancient city of Nîmes—that quaint, quiet old place which contains more monuments of antiquity than any other town in France.
Early in the morning we alighted at the station, high upon a viaduct, after a sleepless night, and drove to a small commercial hotel, the Cheval Blanc, in the Place des Arènes, nearly opposite the Luxembourg where the mystery-man of Europe had appointed to meet the infamous Despujol. When I inquired for a telegram one was handed to me. It was from Hambledon, saying that De Gex had left for Nîmes and Suzor was returning to Paris, therefore he would follow the latter.
Having installed ourselves in the hotel, Rivero went to the concierge, and taking him into his confidence over a twenty-franc note, told him that he was very anxious to know whether a gentleman named Rabel had arrived at the Luxembourg. Would he ask the concierge there privately on the telephone?
The man in uniform at once rang up the Luxembourg, and addressing the concierge as his “dear Henri,” made the inquiry.
The reply was that Monsieur Rabel was expected at noon.
“Ask if a gentleman is expected who has engaged a private sitting-room,” Rivero said.
The reply came back that a gentleman, believed to be English, had arrived in the night and now occupied the best suite. His name was Monsieur Johnson, of London.