The Nickel Man by Brian Stableford

Author:Brian Stableford
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Black Coat Press
Published: 2017-01-22T00:00:00+00:00

VII. On Induction in Criminal Matters

Madame Paponot, the concierge of the burned building, had been singularly disturbed on hearing the cry of “Fire!” resounding in the stairwell.

She was dozing lightly, plunged in her big armchair, wrapped up next to the purring stove.

Suddenly, at that cry, she had found herself on her feet, eyes open, prey to a tremor that she had, however, succeeded in quelling very rapidly, in order to go and see where the fire was.

Already, all the way up the staircase, there was a frightful racket of doors opening and people running down, uttering screams of fear, interjections, appeals for help and lamentations.

A neighbor, possessed of a clearer head, ran to the nearest fire alarm, while someone else closed the gas taps and the tenants began throwing their furniture and bedding out of the windows.

The firemen arrived quickly, moreover; the steam-pumps were set up and launched their sprays at the blaze. The flames had already invaded the stairwell, however; it was necessary to let the fire go and preserve the neighboring houses.

The tenants had been able to get out in time, but the disaster had been so rapid that most of them had been able to save very little by way of possessions.

It was necessary to consider it fortunate that there was no personal injury to deplore—for, all things considered, the disappearance of Monsieur Grillard definitely seemed to be anterior to the conflagration.

That disappearance was nonetheless singularly intriguing to the police commissioner who was conducting the investigation into the cause of the fire. What could have become of the bizarre tenant whom all the witnesses declared to be incapable of quitting his bed? That was what the magistrate asked himself, and which he tried to clarify by means of a confused interrogation, to which Madame Paponot brought her customary volubility.

The excellent woman explained to him with expressive gestures and an infinity of details that she had not seen her tenant with her own eyes for six weeks. She had been told that he was ill, but she could not affirm herself that he was not in any fit state to leave his room. She had been told, however, that he never left his bed, and that same morning...”

“Who told you that?” the commissioner put in, impatiently.

“Monsieur Pilesèche, of course. His helper…what do you call it? His laboratory assistant.”

“And where is this laboratory assistant?”

“At home, no doubt. He only comes twice a day to see his boss, give him what he needs and do a little housework. Hold on, though,” the doorkeeper remarked, as if struck by a flash of enlightenment, “in fact, I haven’t seen him since the day before yesterday.”

“Aha!” said the commissioner, and with pressing the point any further, added: “Which physician visited your tenant?”

“He detested them all equally and didn’t want to see any of them.”

“So there was no one but this Pilesèche who went into his room?”

“I believe so. Monsieur Grillard is something of a boor, and it wasn’t a good idea to knock on his door.

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