They made a good run to Paris, stopping only at Amiens, and at 5.45 precisely drew slowly into the vast, echoing vault of the Gare du Nord. Calling a taxi, the Inspector drove to a small private hotel he usually patronised in the rue Castiglione. Having secured his room, he re-entered the taxi and went to the Sûreté, the Scotland Yard of Paris. He inquired for M. Chauvet, sending in his letter of introduction. The Chief was in and disengaged, and after a few minutes delay Inspector Burnley was ushered into his presence. M. Chauvet, Chef de la Sûreté, was a small, elderly man with a dark, pointed beard, gold-rimmed glasses, and an exceedingly polite manner. ‘Sit down, Mr. Burnley,’ he said in excellent English, as they shook hands. ‘I think we have had the pleasure of co-operating with you before?’ Burnley reminded him of the Marcelle murder case. ‘Ah, of course, I remember. And now you are bringing us another of the same kind. Is it not so?’ ‘Yes, sir, and a rather puzzling one also. But I am in hopes we have enough information to clear it up quickly.’ ‘Good, I hope you have. Please let me have, in a word or two, the briefest outline, then I shall ask you to go over it again in detail.’ Burnley complied, explaining in half a dozen sentences the gist of the case. ‘The circumstances are certainly singular,’ said the Chief. ‘Let me think whom I shall put in charge of it with you. Dupont is perhaps the best man, but he is engaged on that burglary at Chartres.’ He looked up a card index. ‘Of those disengaged, the best perhaps are Cambon, Lefarge, and Bontemps. All good men.’ He stretched out his hand to the desk telephone. ‘Pardon me, sir,’ said Burnley. ‘I don’t want to make suggestions or interfere in what is not my business, but I had the pleasure of co-operating with M. Lefarge in the Marcelle case, and if it was quite the same I should very much like to work with him again.’ ‘But excellent, monsieur. I hear you say that with much pleasure.’ He lifted his desk telephone, pressing one of the many buttons on its stand. ‘Ask M. Lefarge to come here at once.’ In a few seconds a tall, clean-shaven, rather English looking man entered. ‘Ah, Lefarge,’ said the Chief. ‘Here is a friend of yours.’ The two detectives shook hands warmly. ‘He has brought us another murder mystery and very interesting it sounds. Now, Mr. Burnley, perhaps you would let us hear your story in detail.’