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?‰mile, 1836-1873

"Monsieur Lecoq"

"
"It is a positive answer that I want."
"Aha!" said the old man sneeringly, "you know two ladies who have lost
something in a cab, and so--"
The young detective trembled with satisfaction. This man was certainly
the one he was looking for. "Have you heard anything about a crime that
has been committed in the neighborhood?" he interrupted.
"Yes; a murder in a low wine-shop."
"Well, then, I will tell you that these two women are mixed up in it;
they fled when we entered the place. I am trying to find them. I am a
detective; here is my card. Now, can you give me any information?"
The driver had grown very pale. "Ah! the wretches!" he exclaimed. "I
am no longer surprised at the luck-money they gave me--a louis and two
five-franc pieces for the fare--thirty francs in all. Cursed money! If I
hadn't spent it, I'd throw it away!"
"And where did you drive them?"
"To the Rue de Bourgogne. I have forgotten the number, but I should
recognize the house."
"Unfortunately, they would not have let you drive them to their own
door."
"Who knows? I saw them ring the bell, and I think they went in just as I
drove away. Shall I take you there?"
Lecoq's sole response was to spring on to the box, exclaiming: "Let us
be off."
It was not to be supposed that the women who had escaped from the Widow
Chupin's drinking-den at the moment of the murder were utterly devoid
of intelligence. Nor was it at all likely that these two fugitives,
conscious as they were of their perilous situation, had gone straight
to their real home in a vehicle hired on the public highway.


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