The Mystery of the Yellow Room by Gaston Leroux (thriller books to read TXT) đ
- Author: Gaston Leroux
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Rouletabille sat down in an armchair, lit his pipe, which he was never without, smoked for a few minutes in silenceâno doubt to calm the excitement which, visibly, dominated himâand then replied:
âYoung man,â he said, in a tone the sad irony of which I will not attempt to render, âyoung man, you are a lawyer and I doubt not your ability to save the guilty from conviction; but if you were a magistrate on the bench, how easy it would be for you to condemn innocent persons!âYou are really gifted, young man!â
He continued to smoke energetically, and then went on:
âNo trap will be found, and the mystery of âThe Yellow Roomâ will become more and more mysterious. Thatâs why it interests me. The examining magistrate is right; nothing stranger than this crime has ever been known.â
âHave you any idea of the way by which the murderer escaped?â I asked.
âNone,â replied Rouletabilleâânone, for the present. But I have an idea as to the revolver; the murderer did not use it.â
âGood Heavens! By whom, then, was it used?â
âWhyâby Mademoiselle Stangerson.â
âI donât understand,âor rather, I have never understood,â I said.
Rouletabille shrugged his shoulders.
âIs there nothing in this article in the âMatinâ by which you were particularly struck?â
âNothing,âI have found the whole of the story it tells equally strange.â
âWell, butâthe locked doorâwith the key on the inside?â
âThatâs the only perfectly natural thing in the whole article.â
âReally!âAnd the bolt?â
âThe bolt?â
âYes, the boltâalso inside the roomâa still further protection against entry? Mademoiselle Stangerson took quite extraordinary precautions! It is clear to me that she feared someone. That was why she took such precautionsâeven Daddy Jacquesâs revolverâwithout telling him of it. No doubt she didnât wish to alarm anybody, and least of all, her father. What she dreaded took place, and she defended herself. There was a struggle, and she used the revolver skilfully enough to wound the assassin in the handâwhich explains the impression on the wall and on the door of the large, blood-stained hand of the man who was searching for a means of exit from the chamber. But she didnât fire soon enough to avoid the terrible blow on the right temple.â
âThen the wound on the temple was not done with the revolver?â
âThe paper doesnât say it was, and I donât think it was; because logically it appears to me that the revolver was used by Mademoiselle Stangerson against the assassin. Now, what weapon did the murderer use? The blow on the temple seems to show that the murderer wished to stun Mademoiselle Stangerson,âafter he had unsuccessfully tried to strangle her. He must have known that the attic was inhabited by Daddy Jacques, and that was one of the reasons, I think, why he must have used a quiet weapon,âa life-preserver, or a hammer.â
âAll that doesnât explain how the murderer got out of âThe Yellow Roomâ,â I observed.
âEvidently,â replied Rouletabille, rising, âand that is what has to be explained. I am going to the Chateau du Glandier, and have come to see whether you will go with me.â
âI?ââ
âYes, my boy. I want you. The âEpoqueâ has definitely entrusted this case to me, and I must clear it up as quickly as possible.â
âBut in what way can I be of any use to you?â
âMonsieur Robert Darzac is at the Chateau du Glandier.â
âThatâs true. His despair must be boundless.â
âI must have a talk with him.â
Rouletabille said it in a tone that surprised me.
âIs it becauseâyou think there is something to be got out of him?â I asked.
âYes.â
That was all he would say. He retired to my sitting-room, begging me to dress quickly.
I knew Monsieur Robert Darzac from having been of great service to him in a civil action, while I was acting as secretary to Maitre Barbet Delatour. Monsieur Robert Darzac, who was at that time about forty years of age, was a professor of physics at the Sorbonne. He was intimately acquainted with the Stangersons, and, after an assiduous seven yearsâ courtship of the daughter, had been on the point of marrying her. In spite of the fact that she has become, as the phrase goes, âa person of a certain age,â she was still remarkably good-looking. While I was dressing I called out to Rouletabille, who was impatiently moving about my sitting-room:
âHave you any idea as to the murdererâs station in life?â
âYes,â he replied; âI think if he isnât a man in society, he is, at least, a man belonging to the upper class. But that, again, is only an impression.â
âWhat has led you to form it?â
âWell,âthe greasy cap, the common handkerchief, and the marks of the rough boots on the floor,â he replied.
âI understand,â I said; âmurderers donât leave traces behind them which tell the truth.â
âWe shall make something out of you yet, my dear Sainclair,â concluded Rouletabille.
CHAPTER III. âA Man Has Passed Like a Shadow Through the Blindsâ
Half an hour later Rouletabille and I were on the platform of the Orleans station, awaiting the departure of the train which was to take us to Epinay-sur-Orge.
On the platform we found Monsieur de Marquet and his Registrar, who represented the Judicial Court of Corbeil. Monsieur Marquet had spent the night in Paris, attending the final rehearsal, at the Scala, of a little play of which he was the unknown author, signing himself simply âCastigat Ridendo.â
Monsieur de Marquet was beginning to be a ânoble old gentleman.â Generally he was extremely polite and full of gay humour, and in all his life had had but one passion,âthat of dramatic art. Throughout his magisterial career he was interested solely in cases capable of furnishing him with something in the nature of a drama. Though he might very well have aspired
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