The Extraordinary Adventures of Arsène Lupin, Gentleman-Burglar
expectations, Mon. Andermatt furnished no explanation. He said:
“I have told you all I know. What more can I do? I am greatly surprised
that my card should be found in such a place, and I sincerely hope the
point will be cleared up.”
It was not. The official investigation established that the Varin
brothers were of Swiss origin, had led a shifting life under various
names, frequenting gambling resorts, associating with a band of
foreigners who had been dispersed by the police after a series of
robberies in which their participation was established only by their
flight. At number 24 rue de Provence, where the Varin brothers had lived
six years before, no one knew what had become of them.
I confess that, for my part, the case seemed to me so complicated and so
mysterious that I did not think the problem would ever be solved, so
I concluded to waste no more time upon it. But Jean Daspry, whom I
frequently met at that period, became more and more interested in it
each day. It was he who pointed out to me that item from a foreign
newspaper which was reproduced and commented upon by the entire press.
It was as follows:
“The first trial of a new model of submarine boat, which is expected
to revolutionize naval warfare, will be given in presence of the former
Emperor at a place that will be kept secret until the last minute. An
indiscretion has revealed its name; it is called ‘The Seven-of-Hearts.’”
The Seven-of-Hearts! That presented a new problem. Could a connection be
established between the name of the sub-marine and the incidents which
we have related? But a connection of what nature? What had happened here
could have no possible relation with the sub-marine.
“What do you know about it?” said Daspry to me. “The most diverse
effects often proceed from the same cause.”
Two days later, the following foreign news item was received and
published:
“It is said that the plans of the new sub-marine ‘Seven-of-Hearts’ were
prepared by French engineers, who, having sought, in vain, the support
of their compatriots, subsequently entered into negotiations with the
British Admiralty, without success.”
I do not wish to give undue publicity to certain delicate matters which
once provoked considerable excitement. Yet, since all danger of injury
therefrom has now come to an end, I must speak of the article that
appeared in the _Echo de France_, which aroused so much comment at
that time, and which threw considerable light upon the mystery of
the Seven-of-Hearts. This is the article as it was published over the
signature of Salvator:
“THE AFFAIR OF THE SEVEN-OF-HEARTS.
“A CORNER OF THE VEIL RAISED.
“We will be brief. Ten years ago, a young mining engineer, Louis
Lacombe, wishing to devote his time and fortune to certain studies,
resigned his position he then held, and rented number 102 boulevard
Maillot, a small house that had been recently built and decorated
for an Italian count. Through the agency of the Varin brothers of
Lausanne, one of whom assisted in the preliminary experiments and
the other acted as financial agent, the young engineer was
introduced to Georges Andermatt, the founder of the Metal Exchange.
“After several interviews, he succeeded in interesting the banker
in a sub-marine boat on which he was working, and it was agreed
that as soon as the invention was perfected, Mon. Andermatt would
use his influence with the Minister of Marine to obtain a series of
trials under the direction of the government. For two years, Louis
Lacombe was a frequent visitor at Andermatt’s house, and he
submitted to the banker the various improvements he made upon his
original plans, until one day, being satisfied with the perfection
of his work, he asked Mon. Andermatt to communicate with the
Minister of Marine. That day, Louis Lacombe dined at Mon.
Andermatt’s house. He left there about half-past eleven at night.
He has not been seen since.
“A perusal of the newspapers of that date will show that the
young man’s family caused every possible inquiry to be made, but
without success; and it was the general opinion that Louis Lacombe--
who was known as an original and visionary youth--had quietly left
for parts unknown.
“Let us accept that theory--improbable, though it be,--and let us
consider another question, which is a most important one for our
country: What has become of the plans of the sub-marine? Did Louis
Lacombe carry them away? Are they destroyed?
“After making a thorough investigation, we are able to assert,
positively, that the plans are in existence, and are now in the
possession of the two brothers Varin. How did they acquire such a
possession? That is a question not yet determined; nor do we know
why they have not tried to sell them at an earlier date. Did they
fear that their title to them would be called in question? If so,
they have lost that fear, and we can announce definitely, that the
plans of Louis Lacombe are now the property of foreign power, and
we are in a position to publish the correspondence that passed
between the Varin brothers and the representative of that power.
The ‘Seven-of-Hearts’ invented by Louis Lacombe has been actually
constructed by our neighbor.
“Will the invention fulfill the optimistic expectations of those
who were concerned in that treacherous act?”
And a post-script adds:
“Later.--Our special correspondent informs us that the preliminary
trial of the ‘Seven-of-Hearts’ has not been satisfactory. It is
quite likely that the plans sold and delivered by the Varin
brothers did not include the final document carried by Louis
Lacombe to Mon. Andermatt on the day of his disappearance, a
document that was indispensable to a thorough understanding of the
invention. It contained a summary of the final conclusions of the
inventor, and estimates and figures not contained in the other
papers. Without this document, the plans are incomplete; on the
other hand, without the plans, the document is worthless.
“Now is the time to act and recover what belongs to us. It may
be a difficult matter, but we rely upon the assistance of Mon.
Andermatt. It will be to his interest to explain his conduct which
has hitherto been so strange and inscrutable. He will explain not
only why he concealed these facts at the time of the suicide of
Etienne Varin, but also why he has never revealed the disappearance
of the paper--a fact well known to him. He will tell why, during
the last six years, he paid spies to watch the movements of the
Varin brothers. We expect from him, not only words, but acts. And
at once. Otherwise---”
The threat was plainly expressed. But of what did it consist? What whip
was Salvator, the anonymous writer of the article, holding over the head
of Mon. Andermatt?
An army of reporters attacked the banker, and ten interviewers announced
the scornful manner in which they were treated. Thereupon, the _Echo de
France_ announced its position in these words:
“Whether Mon. Andermatt is willing or not, he will be, henceforth, our
collaborator in the work we have undertaken.”
* * * * *
Daspry and I were dining together on the day on which that announcement
appeared. That evening, with the newspapers spread over my table, we
discussed the affair and examined it from every point of view with that
exasperation that a person feels when walking in the dark and finding
himself constantly falling over the same obstacles. Suddenly, without
any warning whatsoever, the door opened and a lady entered. Her face was
hidden behind a thick veil. I rose at once and approached her.
“Is it you, monsieur, who lives here?” she asked.
“Yes, madame, but I do not understand---”
“The gate was not locked,” she explained.
“But the vestibule door?”
She did not reply, and it occurred to me that she had used the servants’
entrance. How did she know the way? Then there was a silence that was
quite embarrassing. She looked at Daspry, and I was obliged to introduce
him. I asked her to be seated and explain the object of her visit. She
raised her veil, and I saw that she was a brunette with regular features
and, though not handsome, she was attractive--principally, on account of
her sad, dark eyes.
“I am Madame Andermatt,” she said.
“Madame Andermatt!” I repeated, with astonishment.
After a brief pause, she continued with a voice and manner that were
quite easy and natural:
“I have come to see you about that affair--you know. I thought I might
be able to obtain some information---”
“Mon Dieu, madame, I know nothing but what has already appeared in the
papers. But if you will point out in what way I can help you....”
“I do not know....I do not know.”
Not until then did I suspect that her calm demeanor was assumed, and
that some poignant grief was concealed beneath that air of tranquility.
For a moment, we were silent and embarrassed. Then Daspry stepped
forward, and said:
“Will you permit me to ask you a few questions?”
“Yes, yes,” she cried. “I will answer.”
“You will answer.... whatever those questions may be?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know Louis Lacombe?” he asked.
“Yes, through my husband.”
“When did you see him for the last time?”
“The evening he dined with us.”
“At that time, was there anything to lead you to believe that you would
never see him again?”
“No. But he had spoken of a trip to Russia--in a vague way.”
“Then you expected to see him again?”
“Yes. He was to dine with us, two days later.”
“How do you explain his disappearance?”
“I cannot explain it.”
“And Mon. Andermatt?”
“I do not know.”
“Yet the article published in the _Echo de France_ indicates---”
“Yes, that the Varin brothers had something to do with his
disappearance.”
“Is that your opinion?”
“Yes.”
“On what do you base your opinion?”
“When he left our house, Louis Lacombe carried a satchel containing all
the papers relating to his invention. Two days later, my husband, in
a conversation with one of the Varin brothers, learned that the papers
were in their possession.”
“And he did not denounce them?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because there was something else in the satchel--something besides the
papers of Louis Lacombe.”
“What was it?”
She hesitated; was on the point of speaking, but, finally, remained
silent. Daspry continued:
“I presume that is why your husband has kept a close watch over their
movements instead of informing the police. He hoped to recover the
papers and, at the same time, that compromising article which has
enabled the two brothers to hold over him threats of exposure and
blackmail.”
“Over him, and over me.”
“Ah! over you, also?”
“Over me, in particular.”
She uttered the last words in a hollow voice. Daspry observed it; he
paced to and fro for a moment, then, turning to her, asked:
“Had you written to Louis Lacombe?”
“Of course. My husband had business with him--”
“Apart from those business letters, had you written to Louis
Lacombe.... other letters? Excuse my insistence, but it is absolutely
necessary that I should know the truth. Did you write other letters?”
“Yes,” she replied, blushing.
“And those letters came into the possession of the Varin brothers?”
“Yes.”
“Does Mon. Andermatt know it?”
“He has not seen them, but Alfred Varin has told him of their existence
and threatened to publish them if my husband should take any steps
against him. My husband was afraid.... of a scandal.”
“But he has tried to recover the letters?”
“I think so; but I do not know. You see, after that last interview with
Alfred Varin, and after some harsh words between me and my husband in
which he called me to account--we live as strangers.”