Perrichet beamed all over his rosy face, and Besnard nodded at him
with condescending approval.
"But I wish, M. le Commissaire"--and Hanaud pointed to a blur of
marks--"that your other officers had been as intelligent. Look!
These run from the glass door to the drive, and, for all the use
they are to us, a harrow might have been dragged across them."
Besnard drew himself up.
"Not one of my officers has entered the room by way of this door.
The strictest orders were given and obeyed. The ground, as you see
it, is the ground as it was at twelve o'clock last night."
Hanaud's face grew thoughtful.
"Is that so?" he said, and he stooped to examine the second set of
marks. They were at the righthand side of the door. "A woman and a
man," he said. "But they are mere hints rather than prints. One
might almost think--" He rose up without finishing his sentence,
and he turned to the third set and a look of satisfaction gleamed
upon his face. "Ah! here is something more interesting," he said.
There were just three impressions; and, whereas the blurred marks
were at the side, these three pointed straight from the middle of
the glass doors to the drive. They were quite clearly defined, and
all three were the impressions made by a woman's small, arched,
high-heeled shoe. The position of the marks was at first sight a
little peculiar. There was one a good yard from the window, the
impression of the right foot, and the pressure of the sole of the
shoe was more marked than that of the heel. The second, the
impression of the left foot, was not quite so far from the first
as the first was from the window, and here again the heel was the
more lightly defined. But there was this difference--the mark of
the toe, which was pointed in the first instance, was, in this,
broader and a trifle blurred. Close beside it the right foot was
again visible; only now the narrow heel was more clearly defined
than the ball of the foot. It had, indeed, sunk half an inch into
the soft ground. There were no further imprints. Indeed, these two
were not merely close together, they were close to the gravel of
the drive and on the very border of the grass.
Hanaud looked at the marks thoughtfully. Then he turned to the
Commissaire.
"Are there any shoes in the house which fit those marks?"
"Yes. We have tried the shoes of all the women--Celie Harland, the
maid, and even Mme. Dauvray. The only ones which fit at all are
those taken from Celie Harland's bedroom."
He called to an officer standing in the drive, and a pair of grey
suede shoes were brought to him from the hall.