“Who is she?” asked his companion.
“Well, her name is Valérie—not an uncommon one, I admit; but if I was certain the surname she was once known by was Duvauchel, I would apply for her apprehension in Belgium, and extradition.”
“Duvauchel! Why, that was in connection with the affair near St. Lazare, wasn’t it—that celebrated case of yours?”
“Yes; I was unable to find a key to the mystery at the time, and now, after several years, the matter has come again into my hands quite unexpectedly,” replied the detective. “To-morrow I shall recommence my inquiries, for the crime has always been particularly puzzling to me, and I should like nothing better than to be able to clear it up satisfactorily.”
His companion expressed a hope that he would succeed, as both left the station, and directed their steps towards the Quai de l’Horloge.
Chapter Twenty Five.
Shekels of Judas.
Midnight in Brussels. Six months had passed since Valérie’s hurried exit from Paris had baffled the most expert member of the Paris detective force.