The Exploits of Juve Read online

  IX

  IN THE REFRIGERATORY

  It was light in the evening. One by one the rooms in Lariboisiere werebeing lit up.

  The one exception was the grim amphitheatre, whose occupants would neverneed to see again.

  Suddenly--and if anyone had been present, he would have experienced themost frightful impression it is possible to conceive--a corpse stirred.

  Having assured himself that the door between the amphitheatre and thegallery was shut, the corpse, shivering with cold, threw off the shroudwhich enveloped him, and set to work to move his legs and arms about tostart up his circulation. Then at the far end of the apartment thisliving corpse discovered, under a zinc basin attached to the wall, abundle of linen and garments, which he seized upon.

  His body shaking with cold, the man dressed himself in haste, and thenwaited until he considered his clothes sufficiently dry not to attractattention.

  Carefully ascertaining that the gallery was deserted, he then entered itand walked rapidly to the courtyard. To the right of the main gateway,the smaller gate leading into the Rue Ambroise Pare was open.

  The man passed under the archway, and in a moment would have been clearof Lariboisiere, when the doorkeeper barred his way.

  "Excuse me, who goes there?"

  Then, having looked more closely:

  "Why it's Doctor Chaleck! You're late in leaving us this evening,doctor. I suppose you've been kept pretty busy in ward 22?"

  "That's so," replied Chaleck, for it was he. "That's why I'm in a hurry,Charles."

  And Chaleck, with an impatient gesture, was about to slip out, but theporter stopped him again.

  "One moment, doctor; you must register first."

  "Is this a new hospital regulation?"

  "No, doctor, it's the police who have ordered everyone entering orleaving the hospital to sign his name in this book."

  The porter, having taken Doctor Chaleck into his lodge, opened a newregister, and pointing to half a dozen names already written on thefirst page, he added:

  "You'll not be in bad company; you're to sign just below ProfessorHugard."

  Chaleck smiled. "Tell me the latest news, Charles. Do they suspectanyone?"

  "All I know is that fifty of them came here with dirty shoes, made ahubbub round the patients, put the service out of gear, and in the endcaught nobody at all. But if the culprit is still here, he won't get outwithout the bracelets on his wrists!"

  An equivocal smile touched the pale lips of Chaleck. It might be theweird inhabitant of the little house in Cite Frochot was not so sure asthe porter was of the astuteness of the police. Perhaps he was thinkingthat a few hours before a certain Doctor Chaleck, hemmed in a passagewith no exits and about to be compelled to show, like everyone else, thetips of his fingers, had, under the nose of the officers, and even ofthe artful and astute Juve, suddenly vanished, gone out of the world ofthe living and thought it necessary, for reasons he alone knew, toassume the rigidity of a corpse, the stillness of death. But the smilein a moment became frozen.

  The doctor who had kept both hands in his pockets while talking to theporter, suddenly felt a sharp twinge in the fingers of his right hand,and it became moist and lukewarm. This happened as the porter held outthe register for him to sign.

  "Charles," he cried, "I'm in a great hurry; while I'm signing, please goout and stop the first taxi that passes."

  "Certainly, sir," replied the man.

  Scarcely had the doorkeeper turned his back when the doctor, withinfinite precautions drew out his right hand and with evident difficultybegan to write, holding the pen between the third and fourth fingers, asthough unable to use the fore and middle ones.

  As he was finishing his entry, he made what was doubtless an unintendedmovement, something unexpected happened, for he suddenly turned pale andrepressed a heavy oath. Charles was just coming back to the lodge.

  "Your taxi is here, Doctor."

  "Right. Thank you."

  Chaleck closed the register abruptly, jumped into the motor, threw anaddress to the driver, who got under way. On seeing the doctor shut theregister, Charles cried: "The devil--there's no blotting paper in it, itwill be sure to blot!"

  And, though it was too late, the careful man rushed to the book andopened it. His eyes became fixed on the page where the signatures were.He stared, wide-eyed.

  "Oh!--Oh!--" he murmured.