"
"In the room in the second story," answered M. Plantat, "overlooking
the garden, we found a hatchet on the floor, near a piece of
furniture which had been assailed, but not broken open; I forbade
anyone to touch it."
"And you did well. Is it a heavy hatchet?"
"It weighs about two pounds."
"Good. Let's see it."
They ascended to the room in question, and M. Lecoq, forgetting his
part of a haberdasher, and regardless of his clothes, went down flat
on his stomach, alternately scrutinizing the hatchet--which was a
heavy, terrible weapon--and the slippery and well-waxed oaken floor.
"I suppose," observed M. Plantat, "that the assassins brought this
hatchet up here and assailed this cupboard, for the sole purpose of
putting us off our scent, and to complicate the mystery. This
weapon, you see, was by no means necessary for breaking open the
cupboard, which I could smash with my fist. They gave one blow--
only one--and quietly put the hatchet down."
The detective got up and brushed himself.
"I think you are mistaken," said he. "This hatchet wasn't put on
the floor gently; it was thrown with a violence betraying either
great terror or great anger.
Pages:
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114