Messengers of Evil Read online

  VIII

  END OF THE BALL

  When Sonia Danidoff entered Thomery's ball-room she made a sensation. Itwas not far off midnight when she appeared in all her brilliant beautyand dazzling array, leaning on the arm of her host and fiance, who borehis honours proudly. Dancers paused to admire this handsome couple; thenthe Hungarian band redoubled their efforts, and the whirling, eddyingwaltz started afresh, more gay, more inspiriting than before.

  In a corner opposite the musicians a group of persons were in animatedtalk: among them Sonia Danidoff, Thomery, and Jerome Fandor. Music wastheir theme, some admired Wagner and the classics, others voted for themoderns, for the sugariest of waltzes, for the romantic, the bizarre.

  "For the profane like myself," declared Thomery, laughing, "gipsy musichas its charms!"

  "Oh," cried Sonia Danidoff, "you are not going to tell me that suchhackneyed things as _The Smile of Spring_ and _The Blush Rose Waltz_ areto your taste!"

  Her tone was reproachful, but her smile was charming.

  Nanteuil, the fashionable banker, who was fluttering about the Princess,hastened to take her side:

  "Come now, Thomery, you would not put your signature to that?"

  Jerome Fandor, who had just joined the group, declared:

  "For my part, I thoroughly agree with you, my dear Monsieur Thomery!"

  Sonia Danidoff looked her surprise.

  Thomery replied, with a touch of malice:

  "Monsieur Fandor is like myself--the Tonkinoise is more to his taste!"

  "More than Wagner's operatic big guns!" finished Fandor.

  Then turning to the Princess who still wore her air of surprise:

  "Yes, Princess, I confess it--my taste in music is deplorable: it comesfrom absolute ignorance. I do not understand these modernsymphonies--the simple romantic suits me best!"

  "And that is?" ... queried Nanteuil:

  "Just some music-hall air or ditty," answered Fandor with a smile asfrank as his confession.

  The Princess was amused at this little pseudo-artistic discussion. Shewas about to speak when a couple of waltzers broke into the group andscattered it.

  Jerome Fandor slipped away and wandered through the gorgeous receptionrooms. Here and there, when caught up in the throng and forced to halt,or when pressed against the wall of the ball-room, scraps ofconversation, mingled with the strains of the Hungarian band, fell onhis retentive ears. He took refuge at last in the embrasure of a window;but his retreat was soon invaded by two young men who, he gathered, hadrun across each other in the gallery, and were continuing their talkabout old times and new.

  "Come, tell me, dear Charley, what has been happening to you since weleft the school?"

  "Bah! I go from the Madeleine to the Opera nearly every evening, andthen back again; I go to bed late and get up late; I go out a good deal,as you see; sometimes I dance, but very rarely; I often play bridge ...and that is about all! It's not very interesting; but you, old boy ... Iheard you had got a jolly good billet, my dear Andral!"

  "Oh, hardly that, dear fellow; but I am well on the way to one, Ifancy. I had the good luck to be introduced to Thomery, and it sohappened he was wanting a young engineer for one of his sugarplantations in San Domingo."

  "Good Lord! At San Domingo, among the niggers?"

  "That's right! Not so bad, though it and the boulevards are a few milesapart! But, on the other hand, I am interested in my work, and I ammarried to a charming woman--Spanish."

  "Won't you introduce me to your wife?"

  "When we are nearer to her, old fellow! I came to Paris by myself totalk big business with Thomery. I am only here for a fortnight.... Nowdo point out some of the celebrities--you know everybody!"

  Charley adjusted his eyeglass and looked about the room:

  "Ah, there's an interesting pair! That old fellow and the young one, whoare so extraordinarily alike--the Barbey-Nanteuils, bankers forgenerations in the financial swim, and mixed up in all sorts of bigaffairs, sugar, among them.... Look here! That's the widow of an ironmaster, Allouat--she is passing close to the orchestra--not bad lookingin spite of her mahogany-coloured hair, granddaughter of a famous Frenchpeer, Flavogny de Saint-Ange.... Ah, I breathe again!... It's a detail,but I am quite delighted! General de Rini's daughters have at last foundpartners: they are ugly, poor things, and they've dressed themselves inrose-pink as though they were schoolgirls: a fine name, a distinguishedposition, but no fortune, and no husband!... Ah, now there's someone wholooks as if he were in luck--and he is, too--matrimonial luck. Theaffair is settled this evening, it's whispered. It will interest youparticularly, for the lucky fellow is none other than Thomery!"

  "What! Thomery?"

  "Yes, Thomery! Although he is well over fifty, he means to commitmatrimony! I quite envy him his future wife, my Andral! There she is!That stately dame who is going towards the last of the reception roomsall alone, rather haughty, but a noble creature--it's Princess SoniaDanidoff, related to the Tzar in some distant way and with an immensefortune. Just look, dear boy, at those splendid jewels on that beautifulneck of hers! They say she's got on seven hundred thousand francs'worth--and the rest to match--millions to swell the sugar refiner'spouch! She is to lead the cotillion with him, so there's no doubt aboutthe betrothal. By the by, you are going to stay for the cotillion?"

  "Hum! I..."

  "But you must! You simply must! We must sit together at supper, we havestill so much to say!... Besides, if you hurry off like that, I fancyThomery won't be best pleased. Oh, I say, there he is, coming our way!There's no denying it, he is a fine figure of a man, though he is in thefifties--but!... but!... but do look! What is the matter with him? Helooks as if he had seen a ghost."

  * * * * *

  Sonia Danidoff, who had been waltzing with Thomery, was a little out ofbreath. A quick glance in a mirror showed the lovely Princess that hercheeks were rather flushed:

  "I am scarlet," she thought, with that touch of feminine exaggerationcharacteristic of her! She was a true daughter of Eve!

  At that exact moment she felt a slight tug at the bottom of her skirt,and at the same time a black coat was making profuse apologies: it wasMonsieur Nanteuil:

  "I am in despair, Princess!" cried the banker. "But no one is quiteresponsible for his movements in such a crush!... I am very much afraidthat I have stepped on the muslin of your ravishing toilette and haveslightly torn it!"

  The Princess protested that it did not matter in the least, and thebanker moved away, bowing low and pouring out apologies and regrets. Assoon as he had left her the Princess showed her annoyance: how could shelead the cotillion with this tear in her dress, slight though it mightbe--and the cotillion would begin in less than half an hour! Then sheremembered that her fiance had led her, on her arrival, to a littledrawing-room, quite away from the reception rooms at the end of thegallery, that she might leave her cloak there, saying:

  "Dear Princess, I have prepared this boudoir for you, and _you only_."

  Sonia decided to retire to this boudoir at once and repair the damage toher dress. As she passed the cloak-room on her way a maid offered herservices. The Princess refused them. If she could not have Nadine, shepreferred to manage for herself, besides, she saw that two pins,concealed in the silk muslin, would put her dress to rights; and a touchof powder to her cheeks would bring her colour down to a becoming tint.

  She was considerably amused at the veritable arsenal of flasks and boxesof perfumes which Thomery, as became an attentive lover, had placedthere in her honour: the little boudoir had been transformed into acomfortable ladies' dressing-room. Everything was provided, down to aglass of sugar and water, down to a little phial of alcohol and mint!

  Sonia opened a powder box; then, like all the women of her race, havinga passion for perfumes, she took up a scent sprayer and lavishlysprinkled her throat and the lower part of her face with what waslabelled, "essence of violets."

  The Princess may have suffered from the intense he
at of the ball-room,and required rest without realising it, for she felt slightly faint, alittle sick--almost a desire to sleep.... She slipped down on to a lowdivan, which occupied a corner of the room: she drew deep breaths,breaking in the perfume, a sweet rather strange scent, from thesprayer.

  "This scent is sickly," she thought. "If only I had someeau-de-Cologne!"

  Without rising, for she felt a real lassitude stealing over her, shelooked round for the eau-de-Cologne she wanted: Thomery's arsenal didnot contain any. There was only one sprayer and that Sonia Danidoff heldin her hand.

  She sprinkled herself a second time, hoping that the perfume wouldrevive her; but, on the contrary, her fatigue increased: her eyes closedfor a moment.... When she opened them again the room was in darkness.

  Sonia tried to rise from the divan. An overpowering torpor, though notdisagreeable, was benumbing her whole body, and before her eyes brightlights seemed to float, succeeded by thick darkness. Her head turnedround and round ... she strove to cry out, but her voice stuck in herthroat: her body jerked with a feeble convulsive movement. She heardindistinctly an unknown voice murmuring:

  "Let yourself go!... Sleep!... Have no fear!"

  Sonia Danidoff essayed a momentary resistance, then she succumbed andlost all consciousness of her surroundings....

  Absolute silence reigned in the boudoir Thomery had reserved for thesole use of his beautiful betrothed, when he arrived to lead her to thecotillion. He found the door shut. He knocked discreetly. There was noreply. Repeated knocking evoked no audible answer. Thomery opened thedoor. The room was in total darkness. He switched on the electric light:the boudoir was brilliantly illuminated.... The sight that met hisstartled eyes was so moving that he grew livid with horror and rushed tothe side of his betrothed.

  Sonia Danidoff was extended on the divan motionless and pale as death. Ahoarse and laboured breath came from her heaving bosom at irregularintervals: on the exquisite skin of neck and breast were spatteredstreaks of blood!

  Beside himself, Thomery rushed away in search of help.

  It was at this terrible crisis that the fiance of Sonia Danidoff hadattracted the attention of Charley, whose friend, the young engineerAndral, was the protege of the man whose awful pallor and distracted airspelt tragedy.

  Thomery, his countenance ravaged by intense emotion, his hands clenched,shaken by nervous tremors, hastened, with unsteady steps, in thedirection of the gallery leading to the anteroom.

  Suddenly a woman's shrieks broke in on the charming harmonies of a slowwaltz, which the orchestra was rendering at the moment.... There was anirresistible rush towards the boudoir, where two half-fainting women hadcollapsed on chairs, and the famous surgeon, Dr. Marvier, was doing hisutmost to prevent the crowd from entering the room. The word went roundthat a tragedy had taken place--a death! Princess Sonia Danidoff was inthe room lying dead! The words "crime" and "murder" were freely bandiedabout: murmurs of "assassin," "robber," "assassination" could be heard.

  Some twenty of the guests who had entered the boudoir could givedetails. The dreadful rumours were true. Sonia Danidoff, they declared,was stretched out on the floor covered with blood, her breast bare, herpearls had vanished--a horrible sight!

  The uproar died down; an icy silence reigned. The dancers drew togetherin groups discussing the terrifying tragedy.... Several women were stillin a fainting condition; pallid men were opening windows that fresh airmight circulate in the overheated rooms; on all sides they were watchingfor the return of their host.

  Thomery remained invisible.

  General de Rini called his two daughters to his side and spoke words ofaffectionate encouragement, for they were much upset. The old soldiermarched off with them in the direction of the grand staircase andtowards the cloak-room on the landing. As he was preparing to take overhis coat and hat, one of the footmen went up to him and said a few wordsin a low voice:

  "What!... What!" cried the General. "What's the meaning of this?... Notto leave the house!... But, am I under suspicion then?... It isshameful!... I never heard of such a thing!"

  A butler approached the irate General and said, very respectfully:

  "I beg of you, General, to speak lower! A definite order to that effectwas given us ten minutes ago. Directly Monsieur Thomery was aware of the... accident he had the entrance doors closed and had the housesurrounded by the detectives who were downstairs on duty. The sergeantis there to see this order carried out: you cannot leave thepremises!... It is not that you are under suspicion, General--of coursenot--but perhaps in this way they may succeed in finding the guiltyperson who has certainly not left the house, for no one has gone fromthe house for at least an hour...."

  General Rini had calmed down. He understood why his host had issued theorder. He retired to a corner of the gallery with his daughters, Yvonneand Marthe: the poor things seemed stunned.

  The reception rooms slowly emptied: the guests crowded on to theverandah and into the smoking-room. There was a buzz of talk--queries,comments, conjectures: it ceased abruptly.

  Monsieur Thomery had just appeared at the top of the grand staircase,accompanied by a gentleman, whose simple black coat was in strikingcontrast to the light dresses and brilliant uniforms of the guests.

  Someone whispered:

  "Monsieur Havard!"

  It was, in fact, the chief of the detective police force. Within acouple of minutes of his frightful discovery, Thomery had rushed to thetelephone and had called up Police Headquarters. It was a piece ofunexpected good fortune to find Monsieur Havard there at so advanced anhour. He had immediately responded to the call in person.

  Whilst crossing the reception rooms Thomery talked to him in a lowvoice:

  "Accept my grateful thanks, Monsieur, for having answered my appeal forhelp so quickly. No sooner did I discover the body of my Princess than Ilost no time in having all the exits from the premises watched.Unfortunately I was obliged to leave my reception rooms for quite aquarter of an hour, so that I cannot tell you what happened there. Ifonly I had been able to remain with my guests, I might possibly havesurprised some movement, some gesture, some look, which would have putme on the track of this murderous thief ... unfortunately ..."

  Monsieur Havard interrupted, smiling:

  "That does not matter, Monsieur: if the guilty person is among yourguests and has in some way betrayed himself, I shall hear of it. Thereare, at least, four or five plain clothes men among the dancers, I canassure you of that."

  "I can assure you to the contrary!" replied Thomery--"I know myguests--know who have been admitted here!"

  "I also am sure of what I say," insisted Monsieur Havard. "There isscarcely a ball, a reception, however select it may be, where you willnot find a certain number of our men."

  Thomery made no reply to this: they had arrived at the door of the fatalroom. The doctor was standing beside the victim. Dr. Marvier reassuredMonsieur Havard. He announced that the Princess had been almostliterally felled to the ground by a most powerful soporific and was inno real danger: she would certainly regain consciousness in the courseof an hour or two.... But she must be kept perfectly quiet: that wasabsolutely necessary.

  Monsieur Havard did not question the doctor's statement. After a rapidglance he was able to form his own opinion. There had been no struggle:the victim's wounds were due to the haste with which the thief had tornthe jewels from Sonia Danidoff's neck. He next considered the twowindows which, with the door opening on to the gallery, were the onlymeans of entrance and exit the room had. There were strong iron shuttersbehind the windows: these could not be very easily opened: in any case,it was impossible to close them again from the outside. The thief musthave been in the house, probably in the ball-room, and had followed thePrincess into this little retiring-room.... But what had been thePrincess's motive for coming here alone? Monsieur Havard had learnedthat the room had not been thrown open to the other guests. Then heperceived that the lace at the bottom of her dress was undone. He bentdown and examined it carefully: two pi
ns, hastily stuck in, kepttogether a piece of this lace.... The conclusion Monsieur Havard came towas, that the Princess having a rent in her dress had wished to be alonefor a minute or two in order to repair the damage, and that while shewas stooping towards the bottom of her skirt the assassin had thrown herto the ground and despoiled her of her jewels.

  The chief of the detective force turned to Thomery abruptly:

  "I shall be obliged to follow a course of action which may rather annoyyour guests; but they must excuse me. Everything leads me to think thatthe guilty person is on the premises, since no one has gone away.... Imust hold an investigation at once. I am going to cross-examine yourguests--probe them thoroughly--and I wish to put them through theirpaces in your office, Monsieur Thomery, one by one.... I will begin ...with you ... so that your guests take my questioning with a good grace... it is only a mere matter of form--a pure formality!..."

  * * * * *

  The investigations were lengthy and trying and led to no resultwhatever.

  * * * * *

  Fandor, who was preoccupied by this fresh drama in which he had takensome part--far too slight to please him--was putting on his overcoatwhen he stopped dead.

  A voice--an unrecognisable voice--had murmured in his ear:

  "Attention! Fandor!... It is serious!..."

  Our journalist turned round in a flash. Ah, this time he would find outwho the mysterious unknown was--the unknown, who wished to influence byword written and word spoken, the course of these investigations he hadtaken in hand:

  Anonymous friend?

  Concealed adversary?

  He must, at all costs, clear up the mystery.

  A dozen people were crowding round Fandor, insisting on being attendedto in the cloak-room.

  No one noticed the journalist....

  No one seemed interested in what he was doing....

  Fandor examined every one of Thomery's guests who were standing abouthim. He knew some of them by name, some he knew by sight. He searchedtheir faces with penetrating eyes; but, in vain.... Some werecommon-place looking, others calm, others impenetrable:

  "Hang it all," he grumbled. He went off furious and upset.