"Oh, I am sorry. Lady Beltham's an excellent customer and Mme. Raymond also bought flowers of us." "Mme. Raymond. She is a friend of Lady Beltham?" "Her companion. It is now close to a year that Mme. Raymond has been living with her. Oh! a very pleasant lady; a pretty brunette, very elegant and not at all proud." Fandor thought it well not to seem astonished. "Oh, yes, of course," he cried, "Mme. Raymond. I remember now. Lady Beltham's life is so sad and lonely." "True enough," the woman replied, and, lowering her voice: "And then, what with all these tales of noises and ghosts, the house can't be too pleasant to live in, eh?" Fandor pretended to be well posted. "People still talk of these incidents?" "Oh, yes, sir." Fandor did not venture to press the subject, and, taking leave of the worthy woman, he made his way back to the Boulevard. As soon as Juve caught sight of him in the distance he ran up eagerly. "Well?" "Well, Juve, what have you found out during my absence?" "In the first place that it is exactly sixty-four days since Lady Beltham left Neuilly. I discovered this by the dates on a lot of circulars in the letter box. I also had a talk with a butcher's man and learned that Lady Beltham had a companion." "Oh! I was bringing you that same news!" "This Mme. Raymond is young, dark, very pretty. Can't you guess who she is?" Fandor stared at Juve. "You mean----" "Josephine. It's perfectly clear. We know Lady Beltham wrote a confession, that Fantômas suspected this and murdered her to get hold of it, and further that in this murder Loupart was involved. Josephine was introduced to Lady Beltham by Fantômas. A spy going there to betray the great lady and possibly entice her later to the Cité Frochot. Let us make haste, lad. We thought we had to follow the trail of Loupart and Chaleck, but we mustn't lose sight of Josephine. She may be the means of helping us to the truth." XX THE ARREST OF JOSEPHINE The somewhat grim faces of Mme. Guinon, Julie and the Flirt lit up suddenly. Bonzille, the tramp set free by the police the day after the "drive" in the Rue Charbonnière, had opened the bottle of vermouth, and Josephine bustled around to find glasses to put on the table. Josephine had visitors in her little lodging. There was to be a quiet lunch. On the sideboard attractive dishes were ready, a fine savour of cooking onions came from the dark corner in which Loupart's pretty mistress was doing hasty cookery over the gas. "Neat or with water?" asked Bonzille, performing his office of cup bearer with comical dignity. Mme. Guinon asked for plenty of water. Julie shrugged her shoulders indifferently; she didn't care so long as there was drink, while the Flirt, in her cracked voice, breathed in the loafer's ear: "How about a sip of brandy to put with it?"