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"Further, you told this fellow that you had a plan to capture the scoundrels. You are to acquaint him with that plan, tomorrow afternoon.
If you do so, he will no doubt get to the telephone on some pretext and warn his comrades of what you intend to do. I strongly recommend that you put no faith in the fellow whatever."
"Still, you would advise trying to locate the house, as he suggests?"
"Yes, we may be wrong about him. We must leave no stone unturned. And now we come to your interview with Mr. Stapleton. You gave him the message, of course. What did he say?"
"He said that he intended to carry out the instructions I gave him to the letter--pay these fellows their money, and get back the boy."
Monsieur Lefevre uttered an exclamation of anger. "Sacre! He must not do that! The stupid fellow! He will spoil everything!"
Grace laughed quietly to herself. "Hardly stupid, Monsieur! The poor man is half mad over the boy's loss. He will do anything, to get him back. I can scarcely blame him."
The Prefect held out his hand. "I beg your pardon, my child. You are right. It is perhaps but natural for him to feel as he does. But there are other things at stake, than the recovery of the child. For Monsieur Stapleton to pay over this huge sum to these criminals, and then to allow them to escape, is not only a grave reflection upon the efficiency of the Paris police, but is an injustice to the public as well. If these men are successful in this attempt, they will make others. Other children will be stolen. I cannot permit it. It must be prevented at all costs. These men must be brought to justice."
"How can you prevent it, Monsieur? Mr. Stapleton is determined."
"That, my child, is the question. I cannot stop Monsieur Stapleton if he wishes to drive out the road to Versailles and toss a hundred thousand dollars into the first automobile that pa.s.ses him, showing a blue light." He rose and began to walk up and down the room.
"I have a plan, Monsieur," said Grace, quietly.
"What is it, my child?" The Prefect regarded her with an indulgent smile. He was very fond of Grace. He regretted that he had been unable to secure the services of her husband in this case. He knew, from past experience, her cleverness; but he did not believe that in a matter of this sort she would be able to outwit men who were probably among the shrewdest criminals in Paris.
"First," said Grace, "we will have the location pointed out to us by Valentin thoroughly searched."
"a.s.suredly! It will, however, probably result in nothing. Even if Valentin is telling the truth, these fellows will beyond question have moved the child before now to prepare for the work of tomorrow evening."
"Possibly. At any rate, we will try. After that, I shall want Valentin to drive a motor car for me. He is an accomplished chauffeur."
"You will take him into your confidence, then?" asked the Prefect, in some alarm.
"No. I shall tell him nothing, except that he is to drive the car, and where."
"Very well. But be careful. What next?"
Grace leaned over and spoke to the Prefect in low tones for several minutes. He listened to what she said, occasionally smiling, and nodding his head. Presently he brought his hand down sharply upon the table.
"Bravo!" he exclaimed. "You were born to be a detective. We will get the kidnappers, the money, and in all probability the child as well. I congratulate you!"
"You think it will work, then?"
"I do not see how it can fail. It is an inspiration. I shall certainly feel very well satisfied indeed, if I can return to Monsieur Stapleton both his child and his money, and at the same time place the kidnappers behind the bars. I could never permit it to be said that the police of Paris would knowingly allow a desperate band of criminals to get away with half a million of francs without lilting a hand to prevent it." He rose and glanced at his watch. "Come, my child. It is after midnight.
You have had a long and exciting day. You had better get some rest."
Grace rose. "Richard seemed awfully puzzled when he saw me."
"Did he?" The Prefect laughed mischievously. "Really it is a great joke upon him. To be within a step of his own wife, and not to know her!"
Grace seemed scarcely to appreciate the humor of the situation. "I think it's a shame," she said, "Poor Richard. He'll never forgive me. I really think I ought to tell him."
Monsieur Lefevre shook his head. "If you do that, my dear child, everything will be spoiled. He will insist upon your dropping the case at once, and that would certainly not be fair to me."
"But, Monsieur, after all, you really do not need me, with all the clever men you have upon your staff."
"Who knows? Perhaps you may succeed, where they will fail. I have great faith in the intuition of a woman. And already you have advanced the case further in forty-eight hours than my men have done in ten days. It was a chance, I will admit, that these rascals should have chosen you to deliver their demands to Monsieur Stapleton. I confess I do not understand their reasons for doing so. They must have known that besides telling your story to him, you would also tell it to me. It may have been sheer bravado on their part--it is a characteristic, I have noted, in many criminals. They seem to glory in defying the police.
These fellows, no doubt, think that they have matters so arranged that capture is impossible. I think we shall give them a little surprise."
He turned to the door, and held it open, allowing Grace to pa.s.s into the hall. "Good night, my child," he called out to her, as she began to ascend the stairs. "I think I will smoke one more cigar."
As for Grace, she lay awake a long time, thinking of Richard, of their home in the country, of the happy hours they had spent there--before this unexpected interruption to their honeymoon. It seemed very queer to her, to be lying there, alone. She had not gotten used to it. And somewhere, in this big city, Richard was also sleeping--and she not with him! The excitement of the affair was beginning to die out. The meeting with Richard on the boat, which she had planned when she set out from home, had not materialized. She had postponed this meeting, in her thoughts, until his arrival in Paris, and now--he had come, and still she had not been able so much as to touch his hand. She finally went to sleep, devoutly praying that tomorrow, and the capture of the kidnappers, would mark the end of their needless and cruel separation.
CHAPTER IX
Promptly at eight o'clock the next evening Mr. John Stapleton left his house in the Avenue Kleber, in a big French touring car, with Francois at the wheel.
The car presented no points of peculiarity, being like a thousand others to be seen any evening upon the streets of Paris. It was of large size, high powered, and painted a green so dark as to be almost black.
Mr. Stapleton sat in the tonneau, wearing a dark blue serge suit, and a Panama hat. In his left hand he clutched a small package, about the size of a cigar box. In the package were banknotes amounting to one hundred thousand dollars.
Close beside his right foot lay a rubber bulb, from which a short pipe extended through a hole bored in the side of the car. The end of the pipe held a small bra.s.s nozzle. It projected but a short distance beyond the body of the car, and in the dim light of early evening was quite invisible.
Mr. Stapleton told his chauffeur to drive out the road toward Versailles. "I feel like getting some fresh air," he added. "It's rather warm, tonight." Inwardly he was burning up with excitement.
From Paris to Versailles is a matter of some fourteen miles. Mr.
Stapleton's car proceeded slowly. He wanted to run no chances of missing the car with the blue light.
At the Porte de Versailles he paused long enough to see Richard Duvall, standing in the shadow of the gateway. Then he pa.s.sed outside of Paris.
There were many automobiles and other vehicles on the road. The evening was a pleasant one, and all Paris seemed out taking the air. The majority of the vehicles were coming toward the city. He observed a car, some distance behind him, containing a single occupant, a man of middle age, but paid no attention to it. His eyes were strained to detect in the cars approaching him some evidence of the signal light which was to rouse him to sudden action.
He noticed that Francois, like himself, was carefully scrutinizing each car as it approached them. He wondered if the chauffeur could have any idea of the purpose of his expedition; but presently dismissed the thought as entirely unlikely, and devoted himself to the pa.s.sing cars.
He had proceeded perhaps four or five miles beyond the fortifications, when he saw a large car approaching slowly from the direction of Versailles. It contained but two persons, the chauffeur, and a heavily veiled woman.
The chauffeur, who was keenly observing the machine in which Mr.
Stapleton sat, began to swerve to the right side of the road, so as to pa.s.s as closely to the banker's car as possible. At the same moment there showed through the gathering darkness a brilliant spot of blue light in the tonneau where sat the woman.
Mr. Stapleton was on his feet in an instant. The two cars approached each other rapidly. It was necessary for him to act with great quickness. He s.h.i.+fted the package containing the money from his left hand to his right, and a moment later had tossed it lightly into the other car.
He saw at once that it landed safely within, and at the same instant he pressed his foot down hard upon the rubber bulb. In a moment the car with the blue light had swept past, and was disappearing rapidly in the direction of Paris.
Mr. Stapleton leaned forward and addressed Francois in a voice which quivered with excitement. "Drive home at once," he commanded.
In a moment he was following the first car toward the city.
He did not notice, as he swept down the darkening road, the car which had been following him all the way from Paris. It continued on its way toward Versailles. In it were two people. At the wheel sat a man who bore, in the semi-darkness, a striking resemblance to Francois, Mr.