The Emmett index. [volume] (Emmett, Idaho) 1893-1925, 1910-05-19
CHAPTER II.
cooUESIL's GREATEST CASE.


IN steps toward the prefecture of
S police, but halfway across the
square he glanced back at the church
clock that shows its white face above
the grinning gargoyles. and, pausing,
he stood moment in deep thought.
"A quarter to T." he reflected; then,
turning to the right, he walked quick
ly to little wine shop with flowers
in the windows, the Tavern of the
Three Wise Men.
''Ah, l thought sou he muttered as
he recognized his friend and assistant,
Papa Tignol, at one of the tables on
the terrace. And approaching the old
man, who had a red face and a purple
tinged nose. he said in a low tone, Il
want you"
Tignol looked up quickly from his
glass, and his face lighted. Eth, NJ.
Paul again.
II must see NJ. Pougeot," continued
the detective. Its important. Go to
his office. If he isn't there go TO his
house. Anyhow. find him and tell
him to come to me at once. Hurry on.
III pay for this. And run across TO
the church and tell Bonneton that he
needn't come either"
Il knew it; l knew it," chuckled
Papa Tignol as he trotted Off There's
something doing"
With this much arranged COquenil,
after paying for his friends absinth,
strolled over to cab stand near the
statue of Henry ". and selected a
horse that could not possibly make
more than four miles an hour Be
hind this deliberate animal he seated
himself. and, giving the driver his ad-
dress, he charged him gravely not to
go too fast and settled back against
the cushions to comfortable medita-
lions. There is no better way TO
think out a tough problem" he used
to insist. than to take very long
drive in a very slow cab
1t may have been that this horse was
not slow enough, for forty minutes
later Coquenil's frown was still unre-
Taxed when they drew up at the Villa
Montmorency. really a collection OF
villas, some dozens of them, in a pri-
vate park near the Bots de Boulogne.
The detective occupied a wing Of
the original Montmorency chateau, a
habitation Of ten spacious rooms. more
than enough for himself and his
mother and the faithful old servant
Melanie who took care of them, espe
eially during these summer months.
when Nine Coquenil was away at a
country place in the Vosges mountains
that her son had bought for her Paul
Coquenil had never married, and his
friends declared that, besides his work,
he loved only two things in the world /.
his mother and his dog.
At s o'clock the detective rose from
the dinner table and Withdrew into I
his study, large room opening off the I
dining room and furnished like no 9th (
err study in the world. Around the .
walls were low bookcases with wide .
tops, on which were spread, under .
glass, what Coquenil called his Grim (
Inal museum. This included souvenirs
of cases on which he had been en-
gagged. wonderful sets of burglars
tools, weapons used by murderers-
saws, picks, Jolnteu 1lmmles Oh teh-
pered steel. that could be taken apart
and folded up in the space OF thick
cigar and hidden about the person.
Melanie entered presently with cof-
fee and cigarettes, which she placed
on q table near the green shaded
lamp. within easy reach of the great
red leather chair where NJ. Paul was
seated.
Suddenly there came clang at the
iron gate in the garden and the sound
of quick. crunching steps on the gravel
walk. NJ. Pougeot had arrived.
NJ. Lucien Pougeot was one of the
eighty police commissaries who. each
in his own quarter. oversee the moral
washing Of Paris dirty linen. NJ.
Pougeot was one Of the most distin-
guished and intelligent members Of
this interesting body. He was a de-
voted friend of Paul Coqueni.
"Well." remarked the commissary
when they We're settled in their chairs,
II suppose it's the Rio de Janeiro
thing? Some parting instructions, ehF'