‘We have a number of clues,’ returned the Chief, ‘but have not yet had time to work them. I have no doubt that we will have our hands on the murderer shortly. In the meantime, M. Boirac, to make assurance doubly sure, I would be glad if you would see if you can identify these clothes.’ ‘Her clothes? Oh, spare me that. But there, I understand it is necessary.’ M. Chauvet picked up his telephone and gave directions for the clothes to be sent in. The jewellery was not available, as Mlle. Blaise had taken it in her round of the shops. ‘Alas! Yes,’ cried M. Boirac sadly, when he saw the dress, ‘it is hers, it is hers. She wore it the evening she left. There can be no further doubt. My poor, mistaken Annette!’ ‘I am afraid, M. Boirac, at the risk of giving you pain, I must ask you to be good enough to tell us all you can about the circumstances of your wife’s disappearance. These gentlemen are Mr. Burnley of the London police, and M. Lefarge of our own staff, and they are collaborating in the matter. You may speak before them with complete freedom.’ M. Boirac bowed. ‘I will tell you everything, monsieur, but you must pardon me if I seem a little incoherent. I am not myself.’ M. Chauvet stepped to a press and took from it a flask of brandy. ‘Monsieur,’ he said, ‘you have our fullest sympathy. Allow me to offer you a little of this.’ He poured out a stiff glass. ‘I thank you, monsieur,’ returned the visitor, as he drank the cordial. It pulled him together, and he became once more the unemotional man of business. He kept himself well in hand and did not, during the telling of his story, allow his emotion to overcome him, though at times it was clear all his powers of self-control were needed. In a stronger voice he began his statement, and his three companions settled themselves more comfortably in their chairs to listen. CHAPTER XIV M. BOIRAC MAKES A STATEMENT ‘My name and address you know,’ began M. Boirac. ‘In business I am the managing director of the Avrotte Pump Construction Co., whose works are situated off the rue Championnet, not far from the Omnibus Co.’s depot. I am fairly well off, and we lived comfortably, my wife going a good deal into society. ‘On Saturday, the 27th ult., this day fortnight, we had a dinner party at the Avenue de l’Alma. Our principal guest was the Spanish ambassador, at whose house my wife had visited when in Madrid the previous year. Among the others was a M. Léon Felix, an old friend of my wife’s, who lived in London, and was in some business there. The guests arrived and we sat down to dinner, but unfortunately before the meal was concluded a telephone message came for me from the works to say that a serious accident had happened, and requiring my immediate presence. There was nothing for it but to apologise to my guests and go off at once, which I did, though I promised to return at the earliest possible moment.