"The Minister of Hesse-Weimar to the Secretary of the Interior, Place Beauvau, Paris--Numerous telegrams addressed to his Majesty the King of Hesse-Weimar, at present staying incognito at the Royal Palace Hotel, Avenue des Champs Elysees, remain unanswered, in spite of their extreme urgence. The Minister of Hesse-Weimar begs the Secretary of the Interior of France to kindly make inquiries and to send him the assurance that his Majesty the King of Hesse-Weimar is in possession of these diplomatic telegrams." M. Annion burst out. "There now! Pretty soon they'll be accusing us of intercepting the telegrams ... Frederick-Christian doesn't answer! How can I help that! I suppose he's weeping over the death of his mistress. And now that fellow Juve has taken a hand in it! I tell you. Monsieur Vicart, we're in a nice fix!" While M. Annion was unburdening his mind to M. Vicart, Juve left the Ministry whistling a march, and hailed a cab to take him to the Rue Monceau. He quite understood what was required of him, but his professional pride, his independence and his innate honesty of purpose determined him to ferret out the truth regardless of consequences. As a matter of fact, the presence of the King in Paris was, in part, to render a service to Juve himself.[2] [Footnote 2: See "Fantomas," Vols. I, II, III, IV.] If, therefore, the hypothesis of suicide could be verified, Juve would be able to be of use to the King; if, on the other hand, it had to be rejected, his report would prove that fact. On arriving at the Rue de Monceau, Juve went straight to the concierge's office and having shown his badge, began to question her: "Tell me, Madame Ceiron, did you see the King when he came to pay his visit to his mistress?" "No, Monsieur. I saw nothing at all. I was in bed ... the bell rang, I opened the door ... the King called out as usual, 'the Duke of Haworth'--it's the name he goes by--and then he went upstairs, but I didn't see him." "Was he alone?" "Ah, that's what everyone asks me! Of course he was alone ... the proof being that when they went up and found poor Mlle. Susy, nobody else was there, so ..." Juve interrupted: "All right. Now, tell me, did Mlle. Susy d'Orsel expect any other visitor? Any friend?" "Nobody that I knew of ... at least that's what she said to her lace-maker--one of my tenants ... a very good young girl, Mlle. Marie Pascal--She said like this--'I'm expecting my lover,' but she mentioned nobody else." "And this Marie Pascal is the last person who saw Susy d'Orsel alive, excepting, of course, the King? The servants had gone to bed?" "Oh, Monsieur, the maid wasn't there. Justine came down about eleven, she said good-night to me as she went by ... while Marie Pascal didn't go up before eleven-thirty or a quarter to twelve." "Very well, I'll see Mlle. Pascal later. Another question, Mme. Ceiron: did any of your tenants leave the house after the crime ... I mean after the death?" "No, Monsieur."