Fandor had just left his detective friend when old Jean, the only servant that Juve tolerated in his private quarters, entered the room. "Don't forget the person who is waiting in the parlour, sir." "Ah, yes, to be sure. A person who comes to see me at home, when nobody knows my address should be interesting. Show him in, Jean." Juve placed his revolver in reach of his hand as Jean announced: "Maître Gérin, notary." Juve rose, motioned his visitor to a chair and inquired the object of his visit. Maître Gérin bowed respectfully to Juve. "I must apologise," he said, "for coming to disturb you at home, sir, but it concerns a matter of such importance and it involves names so terrible that I could not utter them within the walls of the Sûreté. What brings me here is a crime which must be laid to Fantômas or his heirs in crime." Juve was strangely moved. "Speak, sir, I am all attention." "M. Juve, I believe that one of my clients, a woman, has been killed. I have had for some time a certain sympathy, and, I don't disguise it, an immense curiosity concerning her because she was actually involved in the mysterious affairs of Fantômas." "The name of the woman, counsel, her name, I beg of you?" "The name of the woman who, I fear, has been murdered is--Lady Beltham!" Juve gave a sigh of relief. It was the name he wished to hear. Maître Gérin continued: "I have been Lady Beltham's lawyer for a long period of time, but since the Fantômas case came to an end in the sentencing to death of Gurn and the subsequent scandal attached to the name of Lady Beltham, I have ceased to have any further tidings of that unhappy woman. "Indirectly, through the medium of the papers which at times gave out some echo of her, I knew that she had been travelling, then, that she was back in Paris, and had gone to live at Neuilly, Boulevard Inkermann. But I did not see her again. It is true her family matters were settled, her husband's estate entirely wound up. In short, she had no reason to appeal to me professionally." "To be sure." "Well, some days ago, I was greatly surprised by her visiting my office. Naturally I refrained from asking her any awkward questions." Juve interrupted: "In Heaven's name, sir, how long ago is it since Lady Beltham called on you?" "Nineteen days, sir." A sigh of relief escaped Juve. He had feared all his theories regarding the body at the Morgue the day before were going to collapse. "Go on, sir," he cried. "Lady Beltham, on being shown into my private office, appeared to me much the same physically as I had known her previously, but she was no longer the great lady, cold, haughty, a trifle disdainful. She seemed crushed under a terrible load, a prey to awful mental torture. She made appeal to my discretion, both professionally and as a man of honour.