"Speak, my friend," said Hanaud.
"I went to the shop of M. Corval. Mlle. Celie was quite alone when
she bought the cord. But a few minutes later, in the Rue du
Casino, she and Mme. Dauvray were seen together, walking slowly in
the direction of the villa. No other woman was with them."
"That is a pity," said Hanaud quietly, and with a gesture he
dismissed Perrichet.
"You see, we shall find out nothing--nothing," said Wethermill,
with a groan.
"We must not yet lose heart, for we know a little more about the
woman than we do about the man," said Hanaud consolingly.
"True," exclaimed Ricardo. "We have Helene Vauquier's description
of her. We must advertise it."
Hanaud smiled.
"But that is a fine suggestion," he cried. "We must think over
that," and he clapped his hand to his forehead with a gesture of
self-reproach. "Why did not such a fine idea occur to me, fool
that I am! However, we will call the head waiter."
The head waiter was sent for and appeared before them.
"You knew Mme. Dauvray?" Hanaud asked.
"Yes, monsieur--oh, the poor woman! And he flung up his hands.
"And you knew her young companion?"
"Oh yes, monsieur. They generally had their meals here. See, at
that little table over there! I kept it for them. But monsieur
knows well"--and the waiter looked towards Harry Wethermill--"for
monsieur was often with them."
"Yes," said Hanaud. "Did Mme. Dauvray dine at that little table
last night?"
"No, monsieur. She was not here last night."
"Nor Mlle. Celie?"
"No, monsieur! I do not think they were in the Villa des Fleurs at
all."
"We know they were not," exclaimed Ricardo. "Wethermill and I were
in the rooms and we did not see them."
"But perhaps you left early," objected Hanaud.
"No," said Ricardo. "It was just ten o'clock when we reached the
Majestic."
"You reached your hotel at ten," Hanaud repeated. "Did you walk
straight from here?"
"Yes."
"Then you left here about a quarter to ten. And we know that Mme.
Dauvray was back at the villa soon after nine. Yes--they could not
have been here last night," Hanaud agreed, and sat for a moment
silent. Then he turned to the head waiter.
"Have you noticed any woman with Mme. Dauvray and her companion
lately?"
"No, monsieur. I do not think so."
"Think! A woman, for instance, with red hair."
Harry Wethermill started forward. Mr. Ricardo stared at Hanaud in
amazement. The waiter reflected.
"No, monsieur. I have seen no woman with red hair."
"Thank you," said Hanaud, and the waiter moved away.
"A woman with red hair!" cried Wethermill. "But Helene Vauquier
described her. She was sallow; her eyes, her hair, were dark."
Hanaud turned with a smile to Harry Wethermill.