Arsene Lupin vs Sherlock Holmes by Maurice Leblanc

Author:Maurice Leblanc
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Alma Books
Published: 2017-05-25T09:06:39+00:00

6

The Second Arrest of Arsène Lupin

From eight o’clock, a dozen removal vehicles were obstructing the Rue Crevaux, between the Avenue du Bois-de-Boulogne and the Avenue Bugeaud. M. Félix Davey left the apartment which he occupied on the fourth floor of number 8. And M. Dubreuil, an expert, who had joined together into one apartment the fifth floor of the same house and the fifth floors of the two adjoining houses, dispatched on the same day – a pure coincidence, as the two gentlemen did not know each other – the collection of furniture, concerning which so many foreign correspondents visited him daily.

A detail which was noticed in that area, but which was only talked about much later, was that not one of the dozen vehicles bore the address of the furniture remover, and not one of the men accompanying them hung around in the neighbouring bars. They worked so well that by eleven o’clock everything was finished. Nothing was left behind except those piles of papers and rags that one leaves behind in the corners of empty rooms.

M. Félix Davey was an elegant young man, dressed in the most refined fashion, but carried in his hand a training stick, of a weight which suggested that its possessor had out-of-the-ordinary biceps. M. Félix Davey went off at a leisurely pace and sat down on the bench in the side street, which cuts into the Avenue de Bois, across from the Rue Pergolèse. Near him, a woman dressed like a petite-bourgeoise, was reading a newspaper, while a child was playfully digging up a pile of sand with its spade.

After a few moments Félix Davey said to the woman, without turning his head:

“What news of Ganimard?”

“He left this morning at nine o’clock.”

“Where to?”

“To police headquarters.”

“Alone?”

“Alone.”

“No telegram last night?”

“None.”

“Do they still trust you in the house?”

“Yes they do. I do little things for Mme Ganimard, and she tells me everything her husband is doing… We spent the morning together.”

“Fine. Until further notice continue to come here every day at eleven o’clock.”

He got up and went off to the Chinese pavilion, near the Porte Dauphine, where he had a frugal breakfast: two eggs, some vegetables and fruit. Then he returned to Rue Crevaux and said to the concierge:

“I’ll just take a look round upstairs, and then I’ll give you the keys.”

He finished his inspection in the room which served as his office. There he grasped the end of a gas pipe, which had an articulated joint and hung down from the mantelpiece. He lifted the brass cap which closed it, fitted a small device in the shape of a cone and blew into it.

He received a light whistle in reply. Putting the pipe to his mouth he murmured:

“Anyone there, Dubreuil?”

“No one.”

“Can I come up?”

“Yes.”

He put the pipe back in its place, saying to himself:

“How far will progress go? Our century abounds in little inventions which make life truly charming and colourful. And so amusing!… Above all when you know how to treat life as a game, like me.

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