The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1884-01-19 00:00:00

[ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.]
A CRIME IN AN OMNIBUS.

A STORY OF PARISIAN LIFE.

IBY FORTUNE DU BOISGOBEY.

Translated from the French.

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CHAPTER 11.
THE office man was already putting uphis shutters
while the younger policeman sought assistence to
carry away the dead body. The other placed him-
self before the door to keep off the curious, if any
should come, and the conductor, who was a babbler,
began explaining how he had noticed the girl looked
sickly when she had mounted into the omnibus.
The driver remained on his box and had enough to
.do to keep his horses quiet, for they chafed imps-
liently to reach their stables.
"You don't want me any more ? " inquired
Freneuse.
The officer having indicated that he might go, he
moved towards his house which was close by. _But
he had not taken three steps when lie recollected
that he had dropped his cane in the omnibus. This
cane was a present from an old friend, and he valued
it. The omnibus being still there he turned back,
and, as he had difficulty in seeing inside it, struck a
match to avoidefeeling about w th his hands.
The cane had rolled under the seat, arid, in stoop-
ing to get it out, he perceived a paper which had
also fallen, and a gilt pin such as women use to
fasten their caps with. "Aui :" he murmured,
"the poor girl loq this, no doubt. I will keep it in
remembrance of her."
Paul Ffencuse picked up his cane, the paper, and
the pin, put the cane under his arm, the paper and
pin in his overcoat pocket, and desrended nimbly
from the machine, walking away without turning,
in case the policemen might take into their heads to
call him back. He determined not to trouble him-
self further about this adventure, and do nothing
unless the commissary should send for him to give evi-
dence. He had in a moment constructed a romance
about the death of this poor girl, which romance he was
now almost ready to diseard. If e was loitering on
the way to his studio when he spied in a caf, pro-
jecting like a cape, between the Rue Pigalle and the
Rue Frochot, one of his friends, a brother artist,
seated at a table before an empty glass, and a pile
of saucers which indicated the number of draughts
he had imbibed. He was in the first compartment
of the caftS—a sort of glass cage, whence every one
eould be seen that passed outside, and, recognising
Freneuse, he beckoned him to come in. Freneuse
complied, knowing well that, had he not, his
comrade would have run after him.
He was called Binos, a mediocre artist, very fond
of beer, an incessant taher, a practical philosopher,
idle as a schoolboy, occupying himself with every
one's business but his own (although he had always
two or three pictures on hand), but the best fellow in
the world, the most obliging friend, and the most
amusing companion.
Although e rencuse was always differing with him
he was very fond of the fallow, and consulted him,
constantly for the pleasure of listening to his witty
remarks and paradoxical reasonings.
"So here you are," cried Binos. "I have been
trying to find you all the evening; where do you
spring from ?"
"From an extravagant quarter. I dined with
one of my cousins who lives in the Rue Lac4Ae,"
replied Freneuse.
"And you have come by omnibus from the Wine
Market, when you. ought to have walked this frosty
night. You will never be anything but a bourgeois."
s," Bourgeois or not," said Freuete,e, "I have just
met with an extraordinary adventure."
"In the omnibus! I guess what it was: you
missed the Correspondence 1' "
"Don't joke, there's a good fellow. It is some-
thing serious. Look at what is go,ng on there."
"Well, I only see the condu tor talking with a
few idle fellows before the office door."
"There is a dead body in that office—a charming
girl who travelled with me facing me at first, and
afterwards sitting by my side."
"Did she give up the ghost in your arms?"
enquired Binos.
" Almost ; and no one saw when she expired."
"What are you talking about ?"
"I tell you the plain truth. It is the most
extraordinary thing—so extraordinary I was think-
ing just now the death could not be natural."
"A mystery to solve! Ah ! this is the sort of
thing I like. I was born for a policeman, and shall
turn out to be the most clever detective some fine
day. Just tell me the story, and when I know all
-the facts I will give you my opinion."
" Facts ! there are mine. Everything passed as
simply as possible. -When I arrived at the station
-of the Boulevard St. Germain a young'girl was in
the omnibus. I saw she was pretty, and sat down
in front of her. A great, fat woman was on one
side of her, and a man on the other—a gentleman,
•if you like •, but he had all the appearance of an old
• Aruramer of the National Guard."
"Good," said Eines. "A man to suspect ! "
"Suspect him if you like; but just before the
omnibus started he gave up his plive to a lady who
came late—a real lady—eleeantly dressed, and not
bad looking, as far as I could judge, through her
veil."
"If she did not raise it, she evidently desired to
conceal her face. Did she accept readily the polite-
ness of the person you just described? If so, do vou
not see what it proves? She must have known him,
• and the matter had been pre-arranged. He kept the
--place for her, she took it, and is the party that
struck the fatal blow !"
"But there was no blow," cried Freneuse.
"You think so be ause you saw none," said Binos,
following up his idea with imperturbable persistence.
"I say again that giving up the seat was not
• natural. I have now a basis to build upon. Con-
tinue. Was no that the last omnibus ?"
"Yes. I ran all the way from the Rue Lacepkle
-in order to catch it."
"I thought as much. There is an additional
• reason for the man not getting out; he cannot have
wished to." •
"But he did get out, and went on the Imperial."
"Several degrees below zero, and a north win 1
• enough to cut one's face in two. I feel convinced
that he got up there so as to be certain that his
accomplice performed her operation!"
"Not at all; the man got down at the Rue Tour
• d'Auvergne, and the woman further en—at the
• corner of the Rue de Laval."
"That is to say, three minutes afterwards. They
would have little difficulty in rejoining each other.
I am certain the man stopped an instant on the
omnibus step, so that sbe might see he was leav-
ing..
"No, he did not; but I remarked—"
"What?"
"That just before he got down he "gave three
knocks with his heel so loud that everyone in the
omnibus heard them!'
"Good heavens! That was the signal !"
"I confess some such idea passed through my own
mind."
"Ala! you show that you already suspect this
• couple ; only you have not the courage of your con-
victions."
"And you, when you take up a hobby, you ride
it too fast, I admit it looks as though the pair were
agreed for some purpose, but not to kill an unfortu-
nate girl unknown to either of them."
"How do you know she was unknown to either of
them 'r"
"I am certain that she did not know them,
because she took not the slightest notice of either.
But there is nothing unreasonable in thinking that
the man hoped the lady would reward him on
arriving at her destination by taking his arm, since
',she had permitted him to squeeze her hand as she
got up., '
"Better and better," cried Binos; "the squeeze
meant Kill her .' "
"You must be mad to talk like that, since I have
'already informed you that not a single incident
occurred during the journey."
" Well ; was not this girl alive when she entered
the omnibus?"
"Yes, certainly. Very much so. She also wore
a veil; but her eyes shone through it like two black
gems."
" Well ; and at the end of the journey she was
dead. When was it first perceived she had passed
away?"
"I was the first to notice it, on arriving at the
station of the Place Pigalle. She laid her head on
my shoulder, and I believed she was asleep. I
tried to awaken her, and--"
"What, laid her bead on your shoulder? Then
you were sitting beside her. I thought you were
Opposite."
"The veiled lady who was next her on the left
supported her from the Pont Neuf, like myself
believing she was asleep. When this lady goi out
at the Rue de Laval she begged me to occupy her
place. I did not object to act as a pillow to a young
enad pretty girl. The sat on her right was vacant.
I took it, and the lady passed me on a burden that
was not at all disagreeable"
','.And di. d you° think there was nothing extra-
ordinary in this sound sleep which all the move-
ment of the omnibus did not disturb? Paul, my
dear fellow, you can handle
a genre picture well
enough, but your innoeen
ig I quite agree, but not'we ItshesntaorTous !"
" The lady knew she was handing ng;u7i:t corpse,
which she had been supporting, to prevent a discovery.
She saw by your face that you suspected nothing
and as soon as she could she left you to find out the
truth when you were alone. She acted very boldly,
and might have placed you in an awkward position.
Row did you get out of it F"
"Then do you think it would have been possible
to accuse me of murder f"
"Well, well; we have heard of more unlikely
"Come, new, that is a little too strong. I have just
'been talking'avith the police who have exarnin,e.d. the
body- They could not find the slightest scratch or
'wound upon it—and here come the men from the stfae
lion with a stretcher to remove it. They asked me
ray name, that's all."
" They asked your name and nu gave it ?"
" Certainly ; why should I conceal it? Besides, I
Could
not do otherwise."
td;True; had you declined to say who you were,
eircura stance would have raised suspicion."