Freeman Wills Crofts

“ Lefarge thanked the polite shopman and, following his advice, called on the avocat. Here he learned that M. Boirac was one of the directors of a large private bank, the Crédit Mazières, in the Boulevard de la Senne, in Brussels.
He was half tempted to return at once to the capital, but a long experience had convinced him of the folly of accepting any statement without investigation. To be on the safe side, he felt he should go out and see for himself if the house was indeed empty. He therefore hired a small car and drove out along the Louvain road. ”

“ Here’s your five francs.”
“A good beginning,” thought the detective, as he left the café and, turning his back on the river, passed on up the street. There could be no doubt that Boirac really had lunched at Charenton as he said. It was true the waiter thought he had been there on Monday, whereas Boirac had said Tuesday, but the waiter was not certain, and, in any case, the mistake would be a very easy one to make. Besides, the point could be checked. He could find out from M. Boirac’s chief clerk and butler on what day they received their messages. ”

“ To carry on the inquiry, he would have to visit Brussels, and he accordingly telephoned to the Gare du Nord engaging a berth on the 11.20 p.m. sleeping car train that night. Then, after calling up the Sûreté, he turned his steps homewards to dine and have a rest till it was time to start.
He made a comfortable journey, and, having breakfasted in one of the cafés in the Place du Nord in Brussels, took an early train to Malines. He presented himself at the post office and asked if he could be directed to the residence of M. Armande Boirac. ”

“ They went to the same small sitting-room and Lefarge produced his Brazilian cigarettes.
“How do you like them?” he asked, as the butler helped himself. “Some people think they’re too strong, but they suit me down to the ground. Like strong whiffs, only without the cigar flavour. I won’t keep you a moment. It’s just about that bag of M. Boirac’s you took to the Gare du Nord last Tuesday. ”

“ Lefarge was an artist in his profession. He never made an impersonation without carrying through the details in the most thorough manner possible. He therefore wrote a note to M. Boirac in an assumed hand, regretting having missed him and carefully explaining some quite imaginary business. Having signed it “Jules Pascal” with a flourish, and left it with the clerk, he took his leave. ”

“ You may as well do it now and get your five francs, as later on at the Sûreté and for nothing. What do you say now? Which is it to be?”
The waiter remained silent, and it was obvious to Lefarge that he was weighing his course of action. His hesitation convinced the detective that he really did know the messages, and he determined to strike again.
“Perhaps you are doubtful whether I really am from the Sûreté,” he suggested. “Look at that.” ”

“ Quite well I remember your friend. But,” he hesitated slightly, “he did not strike me as being so much pleased with the lunch as you suggest. I thought indeed he considered the restaurant not quite——” He shrugged his shoulders. ”