e person of importance at the court.
Since then, she went by the name of Jenny Saphir and seems generally to
have been very proud of that present, although, for prudence sake, she
never wore it. I daresay that we shall not be far out if we presume the
theft of the sapphire to have been the cause of the crime."

"But did the maid know where the stone was?"

"No, nobody did. And the disorder of the room would tend to prove that
the murderer did not know either."

"We will question the maid," said the examining-magistrate.

M. Dudouis took the chief-inspector aside and said:

"You're looking very old-fashioned, Ganimard. What's the matter? Do you
suspect anything?"

"Nothing at all, chief."

"That's a pity. We could do with a bit of showy work in the department.
This is one of a number of crimes, all of the same class, of which we
have failed to discover the perpetrator. This time we want the criminal
... and quickly!"

"A difficult job, chief."

"It's got to be done. Listen to me, Ganimard. According to what the maid
says, Jenny Saphir led a very regular life. For a month past she was in
the habit of frequently receiving visits, on her return from the
music-hall, that is to say, at about half-past ten, from a man who would
stay until midnight or so. 'He's a society man,' Jenny Saphir used to
say, 'and he wants to marry me.' This society man took every precaution
to avoid being seen, such as turning up his coat-collar and lowering the
brim of his hat when he passed the porter's box. And Jenny Saphir always
made a point of sending away her maid, even before he came. This is the
man whom we have to find."

"Has he left no traces?"

"None at all. It is obvious that we have to deal with a very clever
scoundrel, who prepared his crime beforehand and committed it with every
possible chance of escaping unpunished. His arrest would be a great
feather in our cap. I rely on you, Ganimard."

"Ah, you rely on me, chief?" replied the inspector. "Well, we shall see
... we shall see.... I don't say no.... Only...."

He seemed in a very nervous condition, and his agitation struck M.
Dudouis.

"Only," continued Ganimard, "only I swear ... do you hear, chief? I
swear...."

"What do you swear?"

"Nothing.... We shall see, chief ... we shall see...."

Ganimard did not finish his sentence until he was outside, alone. And
he finished it aloud, stamping his foot, in a tone of the most violent
anger:

"Only, I swear to He