The Widow Lerouge | Page 4

much
so that he had been jestingly reproached with seeking not to discover
criminals but innocents.
The chief of detective police was none other than the celebrated Gevrol.
He is really an able man, but wanting in perseverance, and liable to be
blinded by an incredible obstinacy. If he loses a clue, he cannot bring
himself to acknowledge it, still less to retrace his steps. His audacity
and coolness, however, render it impossible to disconcert him; and
being possessed of immense personal strength, hidden under a most
meagre appearance, he has never hesitated to confront the most daring

of malefactors.
But his specialty, his triumph, his glory, is a memory of faces, so
prodigious as to exceed belief. Let him see a face for five minutes, and
it is enough. Its possessor is catalogued, and will be recognised at any
time. The impossibilities of place, the unlikelihood of circumstances,
the most incredible disguises will not lead him astray. The reason for
this, so he pretends, is because he only looks at a man's eyes, without
noticing any other features.
This faculty was severely tested some months back at Poissy, by the
following experiment. Three prisoners were draped in coverings so as
to completely disguise their height. Over their faces were thick veils,
allowing nothing of the features to be seen except the eyes, for which
holes had been made; and in this state they were shown to Gevrol.
Without the slightest hesitation he recognised the prisoners and named
them. Had chance alone assisted him?
The subordinate Gevrol had brought with him, was an old offender,
reconciled to the law. A smart fellow in his profession, crafty as a fox,
and jealous of his chief, whose abilities he held in light estimation. His
name was Lecoq.
The commissary, by this time heartily tired of his responsibilities,
welcomed the investigating magistrate and his agents as liberators. He
rapidly related the facts collected and read his official report.
"You have proceeded very well," observed the investigating magistrate.
"All is stated clearly; yet there is one fact you have omitted to
ascertain."
"What is that, sir?" inquired the commissary.
"On what day was Widow Lerouge last seen, and at what hour?"
"I was coming to that presently. She was last seen and spoken to on the
evening of Shrove Tuesday, at twenty minutes past five. She was then

returning from Bougival with a basketful of purchases."
"You are sure of the hour, sir?" inquired Gevrol.
"Perfectly, and for this reason; the two witnesses who furnished me
with this fact, a woman named Tellier and a cooper who lives hard by,
alighted from the omnibus which leaves Marly every hour, when they
perceived the widow in the cross-road, and hastened to overtake her.
They conversed with her and only left her when they reached the door
of her own house."
"And what had she in her basket?" asked the investigating magistrate.
"The witnesses cannot say. They only know that she carried two sealed
bottles of wine, and another of brandy. She complained to them of
headache, and said, 'Though it is customary to enjoy oneself on Shrove
Tuesday, I am going to bed.'"
"So, so!" exclaimed the chief of detective police. "I know where to
search!"
"You think so?" inquired M. Daburon.
"Why, it is clear enough. We must find the tall sunburnt man, the
gallant in the blouse. The brandy and the wine were intended for his
entertainment. The widow expected him to supper. He came, sure
enough, the amiable gallant!"
"Oh!" cried the corporal of gendarmes, evidently scandalised, "she was
very old, and terribly ugly!"
Gevrol surveyed the honest fellow with an expression of contemptuous
pity. "Know, corporal," said he, "that a woman who has money is
always young and pretty, if she desires to be thought so!"
"Perhaps there is something in that," remarked the magistrate; "but it is
not what strikes me most. I am more impressed by the remark of this
unfortunate woman. 'If I wished for more, I could have it.'"

"That also attracted my attention," acquiesced the commissary.
But Gevrol no longer took the trouble to listen. He stuck to his own
opinion, and began to inspect minutely every corner of the room.
Suddenly he turned towards the commissary. "Now that I think of it,"
cried he, "was it not on Tuesday that the weather changed? It had been
freezing for a fortnight past, and on that evening it rained. At what time
did the rain commence here?"
"At half-past nine," answered the corporal. "I went out from supper to
make my circuit of the dancing halls, when I was overtaken opposite
the Rue des Pecheurs by a heavy shower. In less than ten minutes there
was half an inch of water in the road."
"Very well," said Gevrol. "Then if