Son of Holmes

“No,” I said truthfully.

“Well, then.”

“Just a thought,” I muttered.

“You just let us handle this, Jules. It’s what we do best.”

I got up to go. “Well, good luck, Jacques. I hope you get him. And thank you.”

He shook my hand warmly. “It’s a pleasure to set the mind of an old friend at ease. Don’t worry about a thing. We’ll have everything straightened out and back to normal in no time.”

I walked out into the cool evening. If that was what they did best… I smiled grimly to myself. So no one else had seen Chatelet, which of course meant that Henri had lied to the police. Understandable, but certainly neither wise nor wily. I decided to go to Lupa’s, to warn him. He wouldn’t be any good at all from inside a jail trying to convince a man like Magiot of his i

It wouldn’t do to go directly to La Couro

The walk took me nearly a quarter of an hour, and it was completely dark when I arrived. The door was locked, as I might have expected if I’d been thinking of details, such as A

I stood at the curtains and listened to see if Lupa had guests. There was a faint glow around one edge of the curtain, so at least one of the room’s lights was on. I heard no sound, so I quietly pulled the curtain open and stepped in. My training had not entirely deserted me, and I could still move quietly and effectively if I had to. Lupa sat at his desk, absorbed in some reading. He turned a page, and I cleared my throat.

Normally, a man surprised in that ma

“How did you get in here?” he snapped.

“Spontaneous generation.”

“How long have you been here?”

“Under a minute. Now relax. It was necessary. You’re in a lot of trouble, and we’ve got to move right away.”

“So the tu

“You can check all that later,” I said. “Get Charles in here, and Vernet as soon as he can be reached. I’ve just come from the police, and you’re to be arrested tonight for Marcel’s murder.”

He glared at me. “The fools!”

“I couldn’t agree more, but that doesn’t matter much at this point. We’ve got to get you out of here and covered before the police arrive.”

“The fools!” he repeated.

“Yes,” I said. “It seems that they’ve checked your papers and discovered the forgeries, and that Henri has denied seeing Chatelet, and naturally they assume, then, that you killed him before he could have seen anyone else. Now, does Charles know about the tu

“Yes. So does Vernet.”

“Anyone else?”

“Besides you, A

“All right. Let’s get you out that way then. Call in your men.”

“No,” he said. “No, I’m not leaving here. Simply impossible. I’m a marked man, and I’ve decided to stick it out here, and I will do so. I’ll call the others.”

“But how-”

He cut me off by ignoring me and calling out into the kitchen. Charles appeared shortly, clad in an apron and chef’s cap, smiling. He was surprised to see me, but nodded courteously.

Lupa began talking. “Close the front door immediately and go fetch Monsieur Vernet. We are closed for business tonight due to the loss of our chef. I beg your pardon, Charles, but it does have nothing to do with you. After you’ve gotten Vernet here, continue on out to Monsieur Giraud’s house-you remember where it is? Good. Talk to his chef, a Fritz Benet, and tell him to stop whatever he is doing and come along here as quickly as possible. Tell him Monsieur Giraud is in trouble, and we need him. Bring him through the back way. Try to do all this in under an hour, and start now.” Charles already had stripped himself of accoutrements and stood ready to go. Lupa turned to me. “You have a car, n’est-çe pas? Bien. Give the keys to Charles. You can drive, can’t you? Use the car. Speed is everything. Va-t-en! Go!”

When he’d left, Lupa excused himself and left me sitting wondering what he pla

“So.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, what are you pla

“Nonsense. What I did in the outer room just then will prevent any interference from the police. The huge tapestries covering the other walls? Well, for such an eventuality as this, I’ve another on hand. I’ve simply covered the door to the office and the wall surrounding it. No one will suspect there is a room there.”

“But if they search, it’s transparent.”

“Why would they search? If they’re capable of thinking me guilty of Marcel’s death, they are no danger to me. They will look in the rooms that remain, which are certainly ample for one man living alone. They won’t suspect a hidden room. Why should there be one? Monsieur Vernet will tell them he fired me because of my papers, and Charles will corroborate. Then, of course, there will be a new chef, newly hired, and living in these quarters.”

“I suppose that would be…”

“Exactly. Fritz.” He drank more beer, and I joined him.

“Did it occur to you that I might not approve of this? That perhaps Fritz is my private chef and of some worth to me, both personally and professionally?”

“Certainly, my dear Jules.” He smiled. “That’s why I did-n’t want to discuss any of this with you before sending Charles on his errand. I didn’t want to waste the time. You see, there really isn’t much choice. I can be very effective here, and I intend to remain. Come. It won’t be for long. Enjoy your beer.”

I sat and thought in silence. He was right, but it was aggravating. What was I to do with Fritz gone? Suddenly I realized what had begun to nag me.

“I gather, then, that you’ve cleared Fritz? You might have mentioned it to me.”

He did not respond in any way.

“Well?” I said.

He sighed. “There are simply some matters that I can’t disclose at this time, even to you, Jules.”

“That’s ridiculous!”