The Mystery of the Yellow Room by Gaston Leroux (thriller books to read TXT) 📖

Loud murmurs of disappointment filled the room. Some of the lawyers were heard to say: “He’s making fun of us!”

The President in a stern voice, said:

“This joke has gone far enough. You may retire, Monsieur, into the witnesses’ room. I hold you at our disposition.”

Rouletabille protested.

“I assure you, Monsieur President,” he cried in his sharp, clear voice, “that when I do name the murderer you will understand why I could not speak before half-past six. I assert this on my honour. I can, however, give you now some explanation of the murder of the keeper. Monsieur Frederic Larsan, who has seen me at work at the Glandier, can tell you with what care I studied this case. I found myself compelled to differ with him in arresting Monsieur Robert Darzac, who is innocent. Monsieur Larsan knows of my good faith and knows that some importance may be attached to my discoveries, which have often corroborated his own.”

Frederic Larsan said:

“Monsieur President, it will be interesting to hear Monsieur Joseph Rouletabille, especially as he differs from me.”

A murmur of approbation greeted the detective’s speech. He was a good sportsman and accepted the challenge. The struggle between the two promised to be exciting.

As the President remained silent, Frederic Larsan continued:

“We agree that the murderer of the keeper was the assailant of Mademoiselle Stangerson; but as we are not agreed as to how the murderer escaped, I am curious to hear Monsieur Rouletabille’s explanation.”

“I have no doubt you are,” said my friend.

General laughter followed this remark. The President angrily declared that if it was repeated, he would have the court cleared.

“Now, young man,” said the President, “you have heard Monsieur Frederic Larsan; how did the murderer get away from the court?”

Rouletabille looked at Madame Mathieu, who smiled back at him sadly.

“Since Madame Mathieu,” he said, “has freely admitted her intimacy with the keeper—”

“Why, it’s the boy!” exclaimed Daddy Mathieu.

“Remove that man!” ordered the President.

Mathieu was removed from the court. Rouletabille went on:

“Since she has made this confession, I am free to tell you that she often met the keeper at night on the first floor of the donjon, in the room which was once an oratory. These meetings became more frequent when her husband was laid up by his rheumatism. She gave him morphine to ease his pain and to give herself more time for the meetings. Madame Mathieu came to the chateau that night, enveloped in a large black shawl which served also as a disguise. This was the phantom that disturbed Daddy Jacques. She knew how to imitate the mewing of Mother Angenoux’ cat and she would make the cries to advise the keeper of her presence. The recent repairs of the donjon did not interfere with their meetings in the keeper’s old room, in the donjon, since the new room assigned to him at the end of the right wing was separated from the steward’s room by a partition only.

“Previous to the tragedy in the courtyard Madame Mathieu and the keeper left the donjon together. I learnt these facts from my examination of the footmarks in the court the next morning. Bernier, the concierge, whom I had stationed behind the donjon—as he will explain himself—could not see what passed in the court. He did not reach the court until he heard the revolver shots, and then he fired. When the woman parted from the man she went towards the open gate of the court, while he returned to his room.

“He had almost reached the door when the revolvers rang out. He had just reached the corner when a shadow bounded by. Meanwhile, Madame Mathieu, surprised by the revolver shots and by the entrance of people into the court, crouched in the darkness. The court is a large one and, being near the gate, she might easily have passed out unseen. But she remained and saw the body being carried away. In great agony of mind she neared the vestibule and saw the dead body of her lover on the stairs lit up by Daddy Jacques’ lantern. She then fled; and Daddy Jacques joined her.

“That same night, before the murder, Daddy Jacques had been awakened by the cat’s cry, and, looking through his window, had seen the black phantom. Hastily dressing himself he went out and recognised her. He is an old friend of Madame Mathieu, and when she saw him she had to tell him of her relations with the keeper and begged his assistance. Daddy Jacques took pity on her and accompanied her through the oak grove out of the park, past the border of the lake to the road to Epinay. From there it was but a very short distance to her home.

“Daddy Jacques returned to the chateau, and, seeing how important it was for Madame Mathieu’s presence at the chateau to remain unknown, he did all he could to hide it. I appeal to Monsieur Larsan, who saw me, next morning, examine the two sets of footprints.”

Here Rouletabille turning towards Madame Mathieu, with a bow, said:

“The footprints of Madame bear a strange resemblance to the neat footprints of the murderer.”

Madame Mathieu trembled and looked at him with wide eyes as if in wonder at what he would say next.

“Madame has a shapely foot, long and rather large for a woman. The imprint, with its pointed toe, is very like that of the murderer’s.”

A movement in the court was repressed by Rouletabille. He held their attention at once.

“I hasten to add,” he went on, “that I attach no importance to this. Outward signs like these are often liable to lead us into error, if we do not reason rightly. Monsieur Robert Darzac’s footprints are also like the murderer’s, and yet he is not the murderer!”

The President turning to Madame Mathieu asked:

“Is that in accordance with what you know occurred?”

“Yes, Monsieur President,” she replied, “it is as if Monsieur Rouletabille had been behind us.”

“Did you see the murderer running towards the end of the right wing?”

“Yes, as clearly as I saw them afterwards carrying the keeper’s body.”

“What became of the murderer?—You were in the courtyard and could easily have seen.

“I saw nothing of him, Monsieur President. It became quite dark just then.”

“Then Monsieur Rouletabille,” said the President, “must explain how the murderer made his escape.”

Rouletabille continued:

“It was impossible for the murderer to escape by the way he had entered the court without our seeing him; or if we couldn’t see him we must certainly have felt him, since the court is a very narrow one enclosed in high iron railings.”