"Servettaz," he said, "you will answer any questions which monsieur may put to you."
"Certainly, M. le Commissaire," said the chauffeur. His manner was serious, but he answered readily. There was no sign of fear upon his face.
"How long have you been with Mme. Dauvray?" Hanaud asked.
"Four months, monsieur. I drove her to Aix from Paris."
"And since your parents live at Chambery you wished to seize the opportunity of spending a day with them while you were so near?"
"Yes, monsieur."
"When did you ask for permission?"
"On Sat.u.r.day, monsieur."
"Did you ask particularly that you should have yesterday, the Tuesday?"
"No, monsieur; I asked only for a day whenever it should be convenient to madame."
"Quite so," said Hanaud. "Now, when did Mme. Dauvray tell you that you might have Tuesday?"
Servettaz hesitated. His face became troubled. When he spoke, he spoke reluctantly.
"It was not Mme. Dauvray, monsieur, who told me that I might go on Tuesday," he said.
"Not Mme. Dauvray! Who was it, then?" Hanaud asked sharply.
Servettaz glanced from one to another of the grave faces which confronted him.
"It was Mlle. Celie," he said, "who told me."
"Oh!" said Hanaud, slowly. "It was Mlle. Celie. When did she tell you?"
"On Monday morning, monsieur. I was cleaning the car. She came to the garage with some flowers in her hand which she had been cutting in the garden, and she said: "I was right, Alphonse. Madame has a kind heart.
You can go to-morrow by the train which leaves Aix at 1.52 and arrives at Chambery at nine minutes after two.""
Hanaud started.
""I was right, Alphonse." Were those her words? And "Madame has a kind heart." Come, come, what is all this?" He lifted a warning finger and said gravely, "Be very careful, Servettaz."
"Those were her words, monsieur."
""I was right, Alphonse. Madame has a kind heart"?"
"Yes, monsieur."
"Then Mlle. Celie had spoken to you before about this visit of yours to Chambery," said Hanaud, with his eyes fixed steadily upon the chauffeur"s face. The distress upon Servettaz"s face increased.
Suddenly Hanaud"s voice rang sharply. "You hesitate. Begin at the beginning. Speak the truth, Servettaz!"
"Monsieur, I am speaking the truth," said the chauffeur. "It is true I hesitate ... I have heard this morning what people are saying ... I do not know what to think. Mlle. Celie was always kind and thoughtful for me ... But it is true"--and with a kind of desperation he went on--"yes, it is true that it was Mlle. Celie who first suggested to me that I should ask for a day to go to Chambery."
"When did she suggest it?"
"On the Sat.u.r.day."
To Mr. Ricardo the words were startling. He glanced with pity towards Wethermill. Wethermill, however, had made up his mind for good and all.
He stood with a dogged look upon his face, his chin thrust forward, his eyes upon the chauffeur. Besnard, the Commissaire, had made up his mind, too. He merely shrugged his shoulders. Hanaud stepped forward and laid his hand gently on the chauffeur"s arm.
"Come, my friend," he said, "let us hear exactly how this happened!"
"Mlle. Celie," said Servettaz, with genuine compunction in his voice, "came to the garage on Sat.u.r.day morning and ordered the car for the afternoon. She stayed and talked to me for a little while, as she often did. She said that she had been told that my parents lived at Chambery, and since I was so near I ought to ask for a holiday. For it would not be kind if I did not go and see them."
"That was all?"
"Yes, monsieur."
"Very well." And the detective resumed at once his brisk voice and alert manner. He seemed to dismiss Servettaz"s admission from his mind.
Ricardo had the impression of a man tying up an important doc.u.ment which for the moment he has done with, and putting it away ticketed in some pigeon-hole in his desk. "Let us see the garage!"
They followed the road between the bushes until a turn showed them the garage with its doors open.
"The doors were found unlocked?"
"Just as you see them."
Hanaud nodded. He spoke again to Servettaz. "What did you do with the key on Tuesday?"
"I gave it to Helene Vauquier, monsieur, after I had locked up the garage. And she hung it on a nail in the kitchen."
"I see," said Hanaud. "So any one could easily, have found it last night?"
"Yes, monsieur--if one knew where to look for it."
At the back of the garage a row of petrol-tins stood against the brick wall.
"Was any petrol taken?" asked Hanaud.
"Yes, monsieur; there was very little petrol in the car when I went away. More was taken, but it was taken from the middle tins--these."
And he touched the tins.
"I see," said Hanaud, and he raised his eyebrows thoughtfully. The Commissaire moved with impatience.
"From the middle or from the end--what does it matter?" he exclaimed.
"The petrol was taken."
Hanaud, however, did not dismiss the point so lightly.
"But it is very possible that it does matter," he said gently. "For example, if Servettaz had had no reason to examine his tins it might have been some while before he found out that the petrol had been taken."