ed at his watch. "A quarter past nine. We must hurry." Then,
flinging open a drawer in his desk: "I want this and--_this_. Come, the
automobile is waiting."

CHAPTER III

PRIVATE ROOM NUMBER SIX

The night was black and rain was falling in torrents as Paul Coquenil and
the commissary rolled away in response to this startling summons of crime.
Up the Rue Mozart they sped with sounding horn, feeling their way carefully
on account of troublesome car tracks, then faster up the Avenue Victor
Hugo, their advance being accompanied by vivid lightning flashes.

"He was in luck to have this storm," muttered Coquenil. Then, in reply to
Pougeot's look: "I mean the thunder, it deadened the shot and gained time
for him."

"Him? How do you know a man did it? A woman was in the room, and she's
gone. They telephoned that."

The detective shook his head. "No, no, you'll find it's a man. Women are
not original in crime. And this is--_this is different_. How many murders
can you remember in Paris restaurants, I mean smart restaurants?"

M. Pougeot thought a moment. "There was one at the Silver Pheasant and one
at the Pavillion and--and----"

"And one at the Cafe Rouge. But those were stupid shooting cases, not
murders, not planned in advance."

"Why do you think _this_ was planned in advance?"

"Because the man escaped."

"They didn't say so."

Coquenil smiled. "That's how I know he escaped. If they had caught him
they would have told you, wouldn't they?"

"Why--er----"

"Of course they would. Well, think what it means to commit murder in a
crowded restaurant and get away. It means _brains_, Lucien. Ah, we're
nearly there!"

They had reached Napoleon's arch, and the automobile, swinging sharply to
the right, started at full speed down the Champs Elysees.

"It's bad for Gritz," reflected the commissary; then both men fell silent
in the thought of the emergency before them.

M. Gritz, it may be said, was the enterprising proprietor of the Ansonia,
this being the last and most brilliant of his creations for cheering the
rich and hungry wayfarer. He owned the famous Palace restaurant at Monte
Carlo, the Queen's in Piccadilly, London, and the Cafe Royal in Brussels.
Of all his ventures, however, this recently opened Ansonia (hotel and
restaurant) was by far the most ambitious. The building occupied a full
block on the Champs Elysees, just above the Rond Point, so that it was in
the center of fashionable Paris. It w