After Pardo had gone I sat and pondered. It struck me as very curious
that Suzor should have gone to a distant telegraph office in order to
send the message. It seemed that he feared to be recognized by the
counter-clerk at the chief telegraph office. For over an hour I smoked
reflectively. I confess that a curious ill-defined suspicion had
arisen in my mind, a suspicion that became so strong that just about
eleven o'clock I entered the Jefatura Superior de Policia in the Calle
de la Princesa, and again inquired for Señor Andrade.
Fortunately he had been detained in his office, and I was shown into
his presence.
He seemed surprised to see me, but at once he became interested when I
said:
"I have a distinct suspicion that I know the whereabouts of Despujol."
"Have you?" he exclaimed quickly. "What causes you to suspect?"
"A man whom I believe to be an acquaintance of his has to-day sent an
urgent telegram to Charles Rabel, Rue de Lalande, 163, in Montauban,
in France, making an appointment to meet him at the Hôtel Luxembourg
at Nîmes next Monday at noon."
"Who is his friend?" he asked eagerly.
"I regret, Señor Andrade, that I am not in a position to answer that
question. The whole matter is only one of suspicion--very strong
suspicion."
The Chief of Police looked very straight at me.
"Ah! Then you are in possession of certain secret knowledge concerning
the man who made such a dastardly attempt upon your life!" he
remarked. "And you suspect this Charles Rabel at Montauban to be the
fugitive--eh?"
"Exactly," I replied.
He asked me to repeat the address, which he scribbled down, and then
looking up, said:
"Personally, Señor Garfield, I think your suspicions are unfounded.
Despujol, if he is ever found, will be discovered in hiding somewhere
in the mountains of the north."
"But why not in Montauban?" I asked. "He is apparently a well-educated
man, judging from his conversation with me. He speaks French well, and
perhaps passes as a French subject."
"He could pass for a Spaniard, an Italian, a Greek, or a Frenchman,"
Andrade remarked. "And as forged passports are so cheap nowadays, and
almost impossible to detect, the means of escape of such a daring
criminal are both numerous and easy. But," he added, "I am interested
in this person whom you believe to be a friend of the fugitive. Cannot
you tell me who he is?"
I shook my head, and smiling replied:
"I have only come here to tell you of a very distinct suspicion I
entertain that Despujol is at Montauban."
"Then his friend is your enemy--eh?" he suggested, his dark,
penetrating eyes fixed upon mine. "You know the motive of that trap
which Despujol set for you, and yet you will not reveal it to me!"
Again I shook my head and smiled.
"It would make my task much easier," he remarked.
"I am aware of that. But at present mine is only a suspicion. I have
no actual knowledge that Charles Rabel is the man you are so desirous
of arresting."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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