At The Villa Rose

"That was just before I came," said Hanaud. He crossed carelessly

to the open window which overlooked the road and, leaning out of

it, looked up the road to the corner round which he and his

friends had come, precisely as the Commissaire had done. Then he

turned back into the room.

"Which was the last cupboard or drawer that Helene Vauquier

touched?" he asked.

"This one."

Besnard stooped and pulled open the bottom drawer of a chest which

stood in the embrasure of the window. A light-coloured dress was

lying at the bottom.

"I told her to be quick," said Besnard, "since I had seen that you

were coming. She lifted this dress out and said that nothing was

missing there. So I took her back to her room and left her with

the nurse."

Hanaud lifted the light dress from the drawer, shook it out in

front of the window, twirled it round, snatched up a corner of it

and held it to his eyes, and then, folding it quickly, replaced it

in the drawer.

"Now show me the first drawer she touched." And this time he

lifted out a petticoat, and, taking it to the window, examined it

with a greater care. When he had finished with it he handed it to

Ricardo to put away, and stood for a moment or two thoughtful and

absorbed. Ricardo in his turn examined the petticoat. But he could

see nothing unusual. It was an attractive petticoat, dainty with

frills and lace, but it was hardly a thing to grow thoughtful

over. He looked up in perplexity and saw that Hanaud was watching

his investigations with a smile of amusement.

"When M. Ricardo has put that away," he said, "we will hear what

Helene Vauquier has to tell us."

He passed out of the door last, and, locking it, placed the key in

his pocket.

"Helene Vauquier's room is, I think, upstairs," he said. And he

moved towards the staircase.

But as he did so a man in plain clothes, who had been waiting upon

the landing, stepped forward. He carried in his hand a piece of

thin, strong whipcord.

"Ah, Durette!" cried Besnard. "Monsieur Hanaud, I sent Durette

this morning round the shops of Aix with the cord which was found

knotted round Mme. Dauvray's neck."

Hanaud advanced quickly to the man.

"Well! Did you discover anything?"

"Yes, monsieur," said Durette. "At the shop of M. Corval, in the

Rue du Casino, a young lady in a dark-grey frock and hat bought

some cord of this kind at a few minutes after nine last night. It

was just as the shop was being closed. I showed Corval the

photograph of Celie Harland which M. le Commissaire gave me out of

Mme. Dauvray's room, and he identified it as the portrait of the

girl who had bought the cord."