A few minutes later Juve was shown into Fandor's office. But the detective no longer wore a smiling face, and his air of abstraction did not escape his friend. "Anything fresh?" inquired Fandor. "Much that is fresh! That's why I came here to see you." The journalist smiled. "Thanks, Juve. It is, indeed, owing to you that the _Capital_ is the best posted sheet in town." Then the detective proceeded to tell the reporter the startling discovery he had just made at Lâriboisière. He concluded: "There, I suppose you can turn that into a thrilling story, eh?" "I certainly can." "The arrest is now scarcely more than a matter of time." "And how are you going to set about it?" "I don't quite know. Well, good-bye." Fandor let the officer reach the door of the office, then called him back. "Juve!" "Fandor!" "You are hiding something from me." "I? Nonsense." "Yes," persisted Fandor. "You are concealing something. Don't deny it. I know you too well, my friend, to be content with your reticences." "My reticences?" "You didn't come here merely to give me copy." "Why----" "No. You had some idea in coming to look me up and then you changed your mind. Why?" "I assure you you are mistaken." Fandor rose. "All right, if you won't tell me, I shall follow you." At the journalist's announcement Juve shrugged his shoulders. "That's what I feared. But it's absurd to be always dragging you into risky affairs." "Where are we going?" asked Fandor briefly, as he lit a cigarette. "We are going to-night to Doctor Chaleck's. If he's there we will force a confession from him; if he's not there, we will ransack his house for clues," and Juve added, smiling, "like good burglars. I have a whole bunch of false keys. We shall be able to get into Doctor Chaleck's without ringing his bell. Here's a snapshot I took of Josephine at the hospital." And throwing the proof on Fandor's desk, he said smilingly: "The young woman's not bad looking, is she?" XI THE SHOWER OF SAND "I'm afraid it's not quite the thing to enter people's houses in this fashion," whispered Juve, as the two men found themselves in the hall of Doctor Chaleck's little house in the Frochot district. It was about midnight, and through the fan-light of the outer door a dim twilight enabled the detective and the journalist to get an idea of the place in which they stood. It was a fairly large hall with double doors on either hand, leading into the drawing-and dining-rooms. At the far end rose a winding staircase, and under it a door to the cellar. A hanging lamp, unlit, was suspended from the ceiling and the walls were covered with dark tapestries.