Chantecoq and the Mystery of the Blue Train by Arthur Bernède

Author:Arthur Bernède [Bernède, Arthur]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-10-09T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six – Where Météor triumphs, and where Chantecoq makes an important discovery.

Although Chantecoq had great faith in Météor who, in the year that he had been in his service, had given him great proof of his devotion, intelligence, and even initiative, the detective was no less anxious to know how his young collaborator had acquitted himself on the mission that had been entrusted to him.

Now, at about midday, when the brave Gautrais was just telling him that lunch was served, Météor, still disguised as the old scholar, presented himself before him, and after having puffed out his cheeks, declared in a tone of evident satisfaction and justified pride:

“Boss, it’s done! I won the eggcup.”

“Then,” cried the great bloodhound, “you’re bringing me…”

“A letter from the princess’s hand, that I have the honour to place in your own hands.”

Météor gave the envelope to Chantecoq who, also enchanted, cried out.

“Bravo, little one, that’s wonderful! Quickly go and change your clothes and reclaim your normal physiognomy, I’m going to tell Gautrais to put your cover opposite my own.”

“Boss,” the young secretary blushed under his make-up. “Boss, are you inviting me to lunch?”

“I’m inviting you.”

“What a feast day!”

“Isn’t it already a feast day, as you’ve pulled off a real success?”

“Boss, I’m overcome!”

“Go on, hurry up. Because if you make her stewed apples ‘sticky’, Marie-Jeanne will curse you, and she would have a point.”

Météor had already vanished. Ten minutes later, during which Chantecoq had munched some hors-d’oeuvres, Météor reappeared in his natural shape, and sat down to eat.

“Now,” the policeman invited him, “tell me how it all went.”

While doing all honour to the simple but excellent meal that his master had decided to share with him, the young secretary gave an exact and detailed account of his meeting with Princess Rascolini.

When he had finished, the king of detectives replied.

“I can only compliment you sincerely. You manoeuvred most skilfully. I gave you free rein because I wanted to test your knowhow. And your success is plain. It was swift and complete. I could not have hoped for more.”

“Yet, boss,” declared Météor, by no means wearied by these tributes, “thinking about it, I feel I may have made a gaffe.”

“Ah! You think so!” Chantecoq underlined, with a mischievous smile. And he added, finely, “It would in no way displease me to see you make your own critique of your operations. That proves that you are not conceited. Now, I’m listening to you.”

Météor puffed his cheeks, then blurted out: “Boss, my gaffe, the way I see it, was this: putting myself in the skin, or rather, having endorsed the character of a known individual such as Monsieur Martigne-Ferchaud. You understand me, don’t you, boss?”

“Go on.”

“I suppose one thing: that one day Princess Rascolini finds herself in the real Martigne’s presence, that she talks to him about his visit, and that he swears to all the gods he never set foot in her home.”

Météor stopped.

“Continue, continue,” pressed the detective, who seemed to be enjoying himself.

“There’s the other more serious eventuality,” continued the apprentice bloodhound.

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