Hugh came forward, and in his best French explained the circumstances of the tragedyhow Mademoiselle had been shot in his presence by an unknown hand.
The assassin, whoever he was, stood out yonderupon the verandabut I never saw him, he added. It was all over in a secondand he has escaped!
And pray who are you? demanded the police officer bluntly. Please explain.
Hugh was rather nonplussed. The question required explanation, no doubt. It would, he saw, appear very curious that he should visit Mademoiselle of Monte Carlo at that late hour.
Iwell, I called upon Mademoiselle because I wished to obtain some important information from her.
What information? Rather late for a call, surely?
The young Englishman hesitated. Then, with true British grit, he assumed an attitude of boldness, and asked:
Am I compelled to answer that question?
I am Charles Ogier, chief inspector of the Surete of Monaco, and I press for a reply, answered the other firmly.
And I, Hugh Henfrey, a British subject, at present decline to satisfy you, was the young mans bold response.
Is the lady still alive? inquired the inspector of Doctor Leneveu.
Yes. I have ordered her to be taken up to her roomof course, when msieur the inspector gives permission.
Ogier looked at the deathly countenance with the closed eyes, and noted that the wound in the skull had been bound up with a cotton handkerchief belonging to one of the maids. Mademoiselles dark well-dressed hair had become unbound and was straying across her face, while her handsome gown had been torn in the attempt to unloosen her corsets.
Yes, said the police officer; they had better take her upstairs. We will remain here and make inquiries. This is a very queer affairto say the least, he added, glancing suspiciously at Henfrey.
While the servants carried their unconscious mistress tenderly upstairs, the fussy little doctor went to the telephone to call Doctor Duponteil, the principal surgeon of Monaco. He had hesitated whether to take the victim to the hospital, but had decided that the operation could be done just as effectively upstairs. So, after speaking to Duponteil, he also spoke to the sister at the hospital, asking her to send up two nurses immediately to the Villa Amette.
In the meantime Inspector Ogier was closely questioning the young Englishman.
Like everyone in Monte Carlo he knew the mysterious Mademoiselle by sight. More than once the suspicions of the police had been aroused against her. Indeed, in the archives of the Prefecture there reposed a bulky dossier containing reports of her doings and those of her friends. Yet there had never been anything which would warrant the authorities to forbid her from remaining in the Principality.
This tragedy, therefore, greatly interested Ogier and his colleague. Both of them had spent many years in the service of the Paris Surete under the great Goron before being appointed to the responsible positions in the detective service of Monaco.
Then you knew the lady? Ogier asked of the young man who was naturally much upset over the startling affair, and the more so because the secret of his fathers mysterious death had been filched from him by the hand of some unknown assassin.
No, I did not know her personally, Henfrey replied somewhat lamely. I came to call upon her, and she received me.
Why did you call at this hour? Could you not have called in the daytime?
Mademoiselle was in the Rooms until late, he said.
Ah! Then you followed her homeeh?
Yes, he admitted.
The police officer pursed his lips and raised his eyes significantly at his colleague.
And what was actually happening when the shot was fired? Describe it to me, please, he demanded.
I was standing just hereand he crossed the room and stood upon the spot where he had beenMademoiselle was over there beside the window. I had my back to the window. She was about to tell me somethingto answer a question I had put to herwhen someone from outside shot her through the open glass door.
And you did not see her assailant?
I saw nothing. The shot startled me, and, seeing her staggering, I rushed to her. In the meantime the assailantwhoever he wasdisappeared!
The brown-bearded man smiled dubiously. As he stood beneath the electric light Hugh saw doubt written largely upon his countenance. He instantly realized that Ogier disbelieved his story.
After all it was a very lame one. He would not fully admit the reason of his visit.
But tell me, msieur, exclaimed the police officer. It seems extraordinary that any person should creep along this veranda. And he walked out and looked about in the moonlight. If the culprit wished to shoot Mademoiselle in secret, then he would surely not have done so in your presence. He might easily have shot her as she was on her way home. The road is lonely up here.
I agree, monsieur, replied the Englishman. The whole affair is, to me, a complete mystery. I saw nobody. But it was plain to me that when I called Mademoiselle was seated out upon the veranda. Look at her chairand the cushions! It was very hot and close in the Rooms to-night, and probably she was enjoying the moonlight before retiring to bed.
Quite possibly, he agreed. But that does not alter the fact that the assassin ran considerable risk in coming along the veranda in the full moonlight and firing through the open door. Are you quite certain that Mademoiselles assailant was outsideand not inside? he asked, with a queer expression upon his aquiline face.
Hugh saw that he was hinting at his suspicion that he himself had shot her!
Quite certain, he assured him. Why do you ask?
I have my own reasons, replied the police officer with a hard laugh. Now, tell me what do you know about Mademoiselle Ferad?
Practically nothing.
Then why did you call upon her?
I have told you. I desired some information, and she was about to give it to me when the weapon was fired by an unknown hand.
Unknowneh?
Yes. Unknown to me. It might be known to Mademoiselle.
And what was this information you so urgently desired?
Some important information. I travelled from London to Monte Carlo in order to obtain it.
Ah! Then you had a motive in coming heresome strong motive, I take it?
Yes. A very strong motive. I wanted her to clear up certain mysterious happenings in England.
Ogier was instantly alert.
What happenings? he asked, for he recollected the big dossier and the suspicions extending over four or five years concerning the real identity and mode of life of the handsome, sphinx-like woman Yvonne Ferad.
Hugh Henfrey was silent for a few moments. Then he said:
Happenings in London thatwell, that I do not wish to recall.
Ogier again looked him straight in the face.
I suggest, Msieur Henfreyfor Hugh had given him his nameI suggest that you have been attracted by Mademoiselle as so many other men have been. She seems to exercise a fatal influence upon some people.
I know, Hugh said. I have heard lots of things about her. Her success at the tables is constant and uncanny. Even the Administration are interested in her winnings, and are often filled with wonder.
True, msieur. She keeps herself apart. She is a mysterious personthe most remarkable in all the Principality. We, at the Bureau, have heard all sorts of curious stories concerning heronce it was rumoured that she was the daughter of a reigning European sovereign. Then we take all the reports with the proverbial grain of salt. That Mademoiselle is a woman of outstanding intellect and courage, as well as of great beauty, cannot be denied. Therefore I tell you that I am intensely interested in this attempt upon her life.