The Confessions of Arsène Lupin (11 page)

The widow gave a strident laugh:

“Well played, wasn’t it? The Lupin of Lupins, the master of masters, inaccessible and invisible, caught in a trap by a woman and a boy! … Here he is in flesh and bone … here he is with hands and feet tied, no more dangerous than a sparrow … here is he … here he is! …”

She shook with joy and began to pace the room, throwing sidelong glances at the bed, like a wild beast that does not for a moment take its eyes from its victim. And never had Lupin beheld greater hatred and savagery in any human being.

“Enough of this prattle,” she said.

Suddenly restraining herself, she stalked back to him and, in a quite different tone, in a hollow voice, laying stress on every syllable:

“Thanks to the papers in your pocket, Lupin, I have made good use of the last twelve days. I know all your affairs, all your schemes, all your assumed names, all the organization of your band, all the lodgings which you possess in Paris and elsewhere. I have even visited one of them, the most secret, the one where you hide your papers, your ledgers and the whole story of your financial operations. The result of my investigations is very satisfactory. Here are four cheques, taken from four cheque-books and corresponding with four accounts which you keep at four different banks under four different names. I have filled in each of them for ten thousand francs. A larger figure would have been too risky. And, now, sign.”

“By Jove!” said Lupin, sarcastically. “This is blackmail, my worthy Mme. Dugrival.”

“That takes your breath away, what?”

“It takes my breath away, as you say.”

“And you find an adversary who is a match for you?”

“The adversary is far beyond me. So the trap—let us call it infernal—the infernal trap into which I have fallen was laid not merely by a widow thirsting for revenge, but also by a first-rate business woman anxious to increase her capital?”

“Just so.”

“My congratulations. And, while I think of it, used M. Dugrival perhaps to …?”

“You have hit it, Lupin. After all, why conceal the fact? It will relieve your conscience. Yes, Lupin, Dugrival used to work on the same lines as yourself. Oh, not on the same scale! … We were modest people: a louis here, a louis there … a purse or two which we trained Gabriel to pick up at the races … And, in this way, we had made our little pile … just enough to buy a small place in the country.”

“I prefer it that way,” said Lupin.

“That’s all right! I’m only telling you, so that you may know that I am not a beginner and that you have nothing to hope for. A rescue? No. The room in which we now are communicates with my bedroom. It has a private outlet of which nobody knows. It was Dugrival’s special apartment. He used to see his friends here. He kept his implements and tools here, his disguises … his telephone even, as you perceive. So there’s no hope, you see. Your accomplices have given up looking for you here. I have sent them off on another track. Your goose is cooked. Do you begin to realize the position?”

“Yes.”

“Then sign the cheques.”

“And, when I have signed them, shall I be free?”

“I must cash them first.”

“And after that?”

“After that, on my soul, as I hope to be saved, you will be free.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“Have you any choice?”

“That’s true. Hand me the cheques.”

She unfastened Lupin’s right hand, gave him a pen and said:

“Don’t forget that the four cheques require four different signatures and that the handwriting has to be altered in each case.”

“Never fear.”

He signed the cheques.

“Gabriel,” said the widow, “it is ten o’clock. If I am not back by twelve, it will mean that this scoundrel has played me one of his tricks. At twelve o’clock, blow out his brains. I am leaving you the revolver with which your uncle shot himself. There are five bullets left out of the six. That will be ample.”

She left the room, humming a tune as she went.

Lupin mumbled:

“I wouldn’t give twopence for my life.”

He shut his eyes for an instant and then, suddenly, said to Gabriel:

“How much?”

And, when the other did not appear to understand, he grew irritated:

“I mean what I say. How much? Answer me, can’t you? We drive the same trade, you and I. I steal, thou stealest, we steal. So we ought to come to terms: that’s what we are here for. Well? Is it a bargain? Shall we clear out together. I will give you a post in my gang, an easy, well-paid post. How much do you want for yourself? Ten thousand? Twenty thousand? Fix your own price; don’t be shy. There’s plenty to be had for the asking.”

An angry shiver passed through his frame as he saw the impassive face of his keeper:

“Oh, the beggar won’t even answer! Why, you can’t have been so fond of old Dugrival as all that! Listen to me: if you consent to release me …”

But he interrupted himself. The young man’s eyes wore the cruel expression which he knew so well. What was the use of trying to move him?

“Hang it all!” he snarled. “I’m not going to croak here, like a dog! Oh, if I could only …”

Stiffening all his muscles, he tried to burst his bonds, making a violent effort that drew a cry of pain from him; and he fell back upon his bed, exhausted.

“Well, well,” he muttered, after a moment, “it’s as the widow said: my goose is cooked. Nothing to be done.
De profundis
, Lupin.”

A quarter of an hour passed, half an hour …

Gabriel, moving closer to Lupin, saw that his eyes were shut and that his breath came evenly, like that of a man sleeping. But Lupin said:

“Don’t imagine that I’m asleep, youngster. No, people don’t sleep at a moment like this. Only I am consoling myself. Needs must, eh? … And then I am thinking of what is to come after … Exactly. I have a little theory of my own about that. You wouldn’t think it, to look at me, but I believe in metempsychosis, in the transmigration of souls. It would take too long to explain, however … I say, boy … suppose we shook hands before we part? You won’t? Then good-bye. Good health and a long life to you, Gabriel! …”

He closed his eyelids and did not stir again before Mme. Dugrival’s return.

The widow entered with a lively step, at a few minutes before twelve. She seemed greatly excited:

“I have the money,” she said to her nephew. “Run away. I’ll join you in the motor down below.”

“But …”

“I don’t want your help to finish him off. I can do that alone. Still, if you feel like seeing the sort of a face a rogue can pull … Pass me the weapon.”

Gabriel handed her the revolver and the widow continued:

“Have you burnt our papers?”

“Yes.”

“Then to work. And, as soon as he’s done for, be off. The shots may bring the neighbours. They must find both the flats empty.”

She went up to the bed:

“Are you ready, Lupin?”

“Ready’s not the word: I’m burning with impatience.”

“Have you any request to make of me?”

“None.”

“Then …”

“One word, though.”

“What is it?”

“If I meet Dugrival in the next world, what message am I to give him from you?”

She shrugged her shoulders and put the barrel of the revolver to Lupin’s temple.

“That’s it,” he said, “and be sure your hand doesn’t shake, my dear lady. It won’t hurt you, I swear. Are you ready? At the word of command, eh? One … two … three …”

The widow pulled the trigger. A shot rang out.

“Is this death?” said Lupin. “That’s funny! I should have thought it was something much more different from life!”

There was a second shot. Gabriel snatched the weapon from his aunt’s hands and examined it:

“Ah,” he exclaimed, “the bullets have been removed! … There are only the percussion-caps left! …”

His aunt and he stood motionless, for a moment, and confused:

“Impossible!” she blurted out. “Who could have done it? … An inspector? … The examining-magistrate? …”

She stopped and, in a low voice:

“Hark … I hear a noise …”

They listened and the widow went into the hall. She returned, furious, exasperated by her failure and by the scare which she had received:

“There’s nobody there … It must have been the neighbours going out … We have plenty of time … Ah, Lupin, you were beginning to make merry! … The knife, Gabriel.”

“It’s in my room.”

“Go and fetch it.”

Gabriel hurried away. The widow stamped with rage:

“I’ve sworn to do it! … You’ve got to suffer, my fine fellow! … I swore to Dugrival that I would do it and I have repeated my oath every morning and evening since … I have taken it on my knees, yes, on my knees, before Heaven that listens to me! It’s my duty and my right to revenge my dead husband! … By the way, Lupin, you don’t look quite as merry as you did! … Lord, one would almost think you were afraid! … He’s afraid! He’s afraid! I can see it in his eyes! … Come along, Gabriel, my boy! … Look at his eyes! … Look at his lips! … He’s trembling! … Give me the knife, so that I may dig it into his heart while he’s shivering … Oh, you coward! … Quick, quick, Gabriel, the knife! …”

“I can’t find it anywhere,” said the young man, running back in dismay. “It has gone from my room! I can’t make it out!”

“Never mind!” cried the Widow Dugrival, half demented. “All the better! I will do the business myself.”

She seized Lupin by the throat, clutched him with her ten fingers, digging her nails into his flesh, and began to squeeze with all her might. Lupin uttered a hoarse rattle and gave himself up for lost.

Suddenly, there was a crash at the window. One of the panes was smashed to pieces.

“What’s that? What is it?” stammered the widow, drawing herself erect, in alarm.

Gabriel, who had turned even paler than usual, murmured:

“I don’t know … I can’t think …”

“Who can have done it?” said the widow.

She dared not move, waiting for what would come next. And one thing above all terrified her, the fact that there was no missile on the floor around them, although the pane of glass, as was clearly visible, had given way before the crash of a heavy and fairly large object, a stone, probably.

After a while, she looked under the bed, under the chest of drawers:

“Nothing,” she said.

“No,” said her nephew, who was also looking. And, resuming her seat, she said:

“I feel frightened … my arms fail me … you finish him off …”

Gabriel confessed:

“I’m frightened also.”

“Still … still,” she stammered, “it’s got to be done … I swore it …”

Making one last effort, she returned to Lupin and grasped his neck with her stiff fingers. But Lupin, who was watching her pallid face, received a very clear sensation that she would not have the courage to kill him. To her he was becoming something sacred, invulnerable. A mysterious power was protecting him against every attack, a power which had already saved him three times by inexplicable means and which would find other means to protect him against the wiles of death.

She said to him, in a hoarse voice:

“How you must be laughing at me!”

“Not at all, upon my word. I should feel frightened myself, in your place.”

“Nonsense, you scum of the earth! You imagine that you will be rescued … that your friends are waiting outside? It’s out of the question, my fine fellow.”

“I know. It’s not they defending me … nobody’s defending me …”

“Well, then? …”

“Well, all the same, there’s something strange at the bottom of it, something fantastic and miraculous that makes your flesh creep, my fine lady.”

“You villain! … You’ll be laughing on the other side of your mouth before long.”

“I doubt it.”

“You wait and see.”

She reflected once more and said to her nephew:

“What would you do?”

“Fasten his arm again and let’s be off,” he replied.

A hideous suggestion! It meant condemning Lupin to the most horrible of all deaths, death by starvation.

“No,” said the widow. “He might still find a means of escape. I know something better than that.”

She took down the receiver of the telephone, waited and asked:

“Number 822.48, please.”

And, after a second or two:

“Hullo! … Is that the Criminal Investigation Department? … Is Chief-inspector Ganimard there? … In twenty minutes, you say? … I’m sorry! … However! … When he comes, give him this message from Mme. Dugrival … Yes, Mme. Nicolas Dugrival … Ask him to come to my flat. Tell him to open the looking-glass door of my wardrobe; and, when he has done so, he will see that the wardrobe hides an outlet which makes my bedroom communicate with two other rooms. In one of these, he will find a man bound hand and foot. It is the thief, Dugrival’s murderer … You don’t believe me? … Tell M. Ganimard; he’ll believe me right enough … Oh, I was almost forgetting to give you the man’s name: Arsène Lupin!”

And, without another word, she replaced the receiver.

“There, Lupin, that’s done. After all, I would just as soon have my revenge this way. How I shall hold my sides when I read the reports of the Lupin trial! … Are you coming, Gabriel?”

“Yes, aunt.”

“Good-bye, Lupin. You and I sha’n’t see each other again, I expect, for we are going abroad. But I promise to send you some sweets while you’re in prison.”

“Chocolates, mother! We’ll eat them together!”

“Good-bye.”

“Au revoir.”

The widow went out with her nephew, leaving Lupin fastened down to the bed.

He at once moved his free arm and tried to release himself; but he realized, at the first attempt, that he would never have the strength to break the wire strands that bound him. Exhausted with fever and pain, what could he do in the twenty minutes or so that were left to him before Ganimard’s arrival?

Nor did he count upon his friends. True, he had been thrice saved from death; but this was evidently due to an astounding series of accidents and not to any interference on the part of his allies. Otherwise they would not have contented themselves with these extraordinary manifestations, but would have rescued him for good and all.

No, he must abandon all hope. Ganimard was coming. Ganimard would find him there. It was inevitable. There was no getting away from the fact.