Part 15 (1/2)
”Absolutely certain. I saw the gate close behind him.”
”Then I can only say that, so far, the matter is inexplicable. Now let us come back to Valentin. He claims to be working to capture the kidnappers--in order to clear the nurse, whom he loves.”
”That is as I understand it.”
”He denies that he smokes, yet offers no explanation of the presence of the cigarettes in his room.”
”None. Further, someone sends a note to Valentin, advising him that the writer is suspicious of Francois--suggesting that he watch him. Can this mean that Francois is in the plot, and they fear he may be weakening--preparing to turn against them?”
”It certainly looks that way.”
”I wish I could see one of these famous cigarettes.”
Grace laughed suddenly. ”Why,” she exclaimed, ”I have one in my pocketbook. I had quite forgotten it.” She opened her purse and took out the slender white cylinder.
Lefevre examined the thing closely. ”An Egyptian cigarette of American make,” he mused. ”Expensive, here in Paris, and rarely used, except by Americans.”
”That is true; yet I understand that this man Valentin has lived a great deal in America.”
For a moment the Prefect did not reply. Then a puzzled look crossed his face. ”This is a woman's cigarette,” he exclaimed. ”No man would smoke such a thing.” He brought his hand down sharply upon his knee. ”My girl, it is not impossible that the child was stolen not by a man at all, but by a woman.”
”A woman, apparently, that both Valentin and the nurse are trying to s.h.i.+eld.”
The Prefect sat for a moment buried in thought. Then he glanced at Grace keenly. ”It seems to me,” he remarked, in a quiet tone, ”that we should endeavor to determine whether or not Mrs. Stapleton is in the habit of using cigarettes.”
”Mrs. Stapleton!” gasped Grace, in amazement.
”Yes. I confess the idea is a new one, to me; but it may prove of interest.”
”But why should the boy's mother wish to kidnap him?”
”I do not know. There is but one point of significance. During the past week my men have, naturally, questioned Mrs. Stapleton closely as to her movements during the past two or three months. They did this, to determine, if possible, whether the criminals were of Paris, or from some other place, where Mrs. Stapleton may have been, with the child, during the past winter. You know these fellows work in bands, and have their regular field of operations.”
”I see. And where had she been?”
”Monte Carlo!” The Prefect uttered the two words significantly.
Grace was quick to grasp his meaning.
”Then you mean that possibly Mrs. Stapleton may have lost large sums at the gambling tables, and, fearing to tell her husband of her losses, has enlisted the services of the nurse, and of her friend Valentin, and spirited the child away for a few weeks, in order to get the sum of one hundred thousand dollars from her husband without his knowledge?”
”It is by no means impossible. I would recommend that you investigate the matter thoroughly. If we find that Mrs. Stapleton uses gold-tipped cigarettes of this variety, it may go far toward a solution of the whole affair.”
Grace, remembering Mrs. Stapleton's grief-stricken appearance, felt that the clue was a very slender one, but determined to follow it up, nevertheless.
”Now,” went on the Prefect, ”we come to the sudden and most unexpected appearance of Valentin, clinging to the rear of the automobile that brought you back to Paris tonight.”
”As I have told you, he claims to have clambered into Mr. Stapleton's car.”
”Driven by Francois?”
”Yes.”