At The Villa Rose

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.