At the Villa Rose | Page 7

of a bolt being forced. There was an accomplice
within the house. We start from that."
Wethermill nodded his head sullenly. Ricardo drew his chair up
towards the others. But Hanaud was not at that moment interested in
Ricardo.
"Well, then, let us see who there are in Mme. Dauvray's household. The
list is not a long one. It was Mme. Dauvray's habit to take her luncheon
and her dinner at the restaurants, and her maid was all that she required
to get ready her 'petit dejeuner' in the morning and her 'sirop' at night.
Let us take the members of the household one by one. There is first the
chauffeur, Henri Servettaz. He was not at the villa last night. He came
back to it early this morning."
"Ah!" said Ricardo, in a significant exclamation. Wethermill did not
stir. He sat still as a stone, with a face deadly white and eyes burning
upon Hanaud's face.
"But wait," said Hanaud, holding up a warning hand to Ricardo.
"Servettaz was in Chambery, where his parents live. He travelled to
Chambery by the two o'clock train yesterday. He was with them in the
afternoon. He went with them to a cafe in the evening. Moreover, early
this morning the maid, Helene Vauquier, was able to speak a few words
in answer to a question. She said Servettaz was in Chambery. She gave
his address. A telephone message was sent to the police in that town,
and Servettaz was found in bed. I do not say that it is impossible that
Servettaz was concerned in the crime. That we shall see. But it is quite
clear, I think, that it was not he who opened the house to the murderers,
for he was at Chambery in the evening, and the murder was already
discovered here by midnight. Moreover--it is a small point--he lives,
not in the house, but over the garage in a corner of the garden. Then
besides the chauffeur there was a charwoman, a woman of Aix, who
came each morning at seven and left in the evening at seven or eight.
Sometimes she would stay later if the maid was alone in the house, for
the maid is nervous. But she left last night before nine--there is
evidence of that--and the murder did not take place until afterwards.

That is also a fact, not a conjecture. We can leave the charwoman, who
for the rest has the best of characters, out of our calculations. There
remain then, the maid, Helene Vauquier, and"--he shrugged his
shoulders--"Mlle. Celie."
Hanaud reached out for the matches and lit a cigarette.
"Let us take first the maid, Helene Vauquier. Forty years old, a
Normandy peasant woman--they are not bad people, the Normandy
peasants, monsieur--avaricious, no doubt, but on the whole honest and
most respectable. We know something of Helene Vauquier, monsieur.
See!" and he took up a sheet of paper from the table. The paper was
folded lengthwise, written upon only on the inside. "I have some details
here. Our police system is, I think, a little more complete than yours in
England. Helene Vauquier has served Mme. Dauvray for seven years.
She has been the confidential friend rather than the maid. And mark
this, M. Wethermill! During those seven years how many opportunities
has she had of conniving at last night's crime? She was found
chloroformed and bound. There is no doubt that she was chloroformed.
Upon that point Dr. Peytin is quite, quite certain. He saw her before she
recovered consciousness. She was violently sick on awakening. She
sank again into unconsciousness. She is only now in a natural sleep.
Besides those people, there is Mlle. Celie. Of her, monsieur, nothing is
known. You yourself know nothing of her. She comes suddenly to Aix
as the companion of Mme. Dauvray--a young and pretty English girl.
How did she become the companion of Mme. Dauvray?"
Wethermill stirred uneasily in his seat. His face flushed. To Mr.
Ricardo that had been from the beginning the most interesting problem
of the case. Was he to have the answer now?
"I do not know," answered Wethermill, with some hesitation, and then
it seemed that he was at once ashamed of his hesitation. His accent
gathered strength, and in a low but ringing voice, he added: "But I say
this. You have told me, M. Hanaud, of women who looked innocent
and were guilty. But you know also of women and girls who can live
untainted and unspoilt amidst surroundings which are suspicious."

Hanaud listened, but he neither agreed nor denied. He took up a second
slip of paper.
"I shall tell you something now of Mme. Dauvray," he said. "We will
not take up her early history. It might not be edifying and, poor woman,
she is dead.