The Teeth of the Tiger Maurice Leblanc (best novels of all time .txt) đ
- Author: Maurice Leblanc
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âThis we know,â explained Don Luis, âbecause Inspector VĂ©rot said so in his own agonizing words; because it was through him that we learned that the crime was to take place on the following night; and because he had set down his discoveries in a letter which was stolen from him.
âAnd Fauville knew it also, because, to get rid of the formidable enemy who was thwarting his designs, he poisoned him; because, when the poison was slow in acting, he had the audacity, under a disguise which made him look like Sauverand and which was one day to turn suspicion against Sauverand, he had the audacity and the presence of mind to follow Inspector VĂ©rot to the CafĂ© du Pont-Neuf, to purloin the letter of explanation which Inspector VĂ©rot wrote you, to substitute a blank sheet of paper for it, and then to ask a passerby, who might become a witness against Sauverand, the way to the nearest underground station for Neuilly, where Sauverand lived! Thereâs your man, Monsieur le PrĂ©fet.â
Don Luis spoke with increasing force, with the ardour that springs from conviction; and his logical and closely argued speech seemed to conjure up the actual truth,
âThereâs your man, Monsieur le PrĂ©fet,â he repeated. âThereâs your scoundrel. And the situation in which he found himself was such, the fear inspired by Inspector VĂ©rotâs possible revelations was such, that, before putting into execution the horrible deed which he had planned, he came to the police office to make sure that his victim was no longer alive and had not been able to denounce him.
âYou remember the scene, Monsieur le PrĂ©fet, the fellowâs agitation and fright: âTomorrow evening,â he said. Yes, it was for the morrow that he asked for your help, because he knew that everything would be over that same evening and that next day the police would be confronted with a murder, with the two culprits against whom he himself had heaped up the charges, with Marie Fauville, whom he had, so to speak, accused in advance.â ââ âŠ
âThat was why Sergeant Mazerouxâs visit and mine to his house, at nine oâclock in the evening, embarrassed him so obviously. Who were those intruders? Would they not succeed in shattering his plan? Reflection reassured him, even as we, by our insistence, compelled him to give way.â
âAfter all, what he did care?â asked Perenna.
âHis measures were so well taken that no amount of watching could destroy them or even make the watchers aware of them. What was to happen would happen in our presence and unknown to us. Death, summoned by him, would do its work.â ââ ⊠And the comedy, the tragedy, rather, ran its course. Mme. Fauville, whom he was sending to the opera, came to say good night. Then his servant brought him something to eat, including a dish of apples. Then followed a fit of rage, the agony of the man who is about to die and who fears death and a whole scene of deceit, in which he showed us his safe and the drab-cloth diary which was supposed to contain the story of the plot.â ââ ⊠That ended matters.
âMazeroux and I retired to the hall passage, closing the door after us; and M. Fauville remained alone and free to act. Nothing now could prevent the fulfilment of his wishes. At eleven oâclock in the evening, Mme. Fauvilleâ âto whom no doubt, in the course of the day, imitating Sauverandâs handwriting, he had sent a letterâ âone of those letters which are always torn up at once, in which Sauverand entreated the poor woman to grant him an interview at the Ranelaghâ âMme. Fauville would leave the opera and, before going to Mme. dâErsingerâs party, would spend an hour not far from the house.
âOn the other hand, Sauverand would be performing his usual Wednesday pilgrimage less than half a mile away, in the opposite direction. During this time the crime would be committed.
âBoth of them would come under the notice of the police, either by M. Fauvilleâs allusions or by the incident at the CafĂ© du Pont-Neuf; both of them, moreover, would be incapable either of providing an alibi or of explaining their presence so near the house: were not both of them bound to be accused and convicted of the crime?â ââ ⊠In the most unlikely event that some chance should protect them, there was an undeniable proof lying ready to hand in the shape of the apple containing the very marks of Marie Fauvilleâs teeth! And then, a few weeks later, the last and decisive trick, the mysterious arrival at intervals of ten days, of the letters denouncing the pair. So everything was settled.
âThe smallest details were foreseen with infernal clearness. You remember, Monsieur le PrĂ©fet, that turquoise which dropped out of my ring and was found in the safe? There were only four persons who could have seen it and picked it up. M. Fauville was one of them. Well, he was just the one, whom we all excepted; and yet it was he who, to cast suspicion upon me and to forestall an interference which he felt would be dangerous, seized the opportunity and placed the turquoise in the safe!â ââ âŠ
âThis time the work was completed. Fate was about to be fulfilled. Between the âhaterâ and his victims there was but the distance of one act. The act was performed. M. Fauville died.â
Don Luis ceased. His words were followed by a long silence; and he felt certain that the extraordinary story which he had just finished telling met with
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