Lecoq, putting on his most
frivolous air as his conclusions narrowed the field of probabilities.
"You doubtless recollect that when we were at Valfeuillu we found
the hands of the clock in the bedroom stopped at twenty minutes past
three. Distrusting foul play, I put the striking apparatus in
motion--do you recall it? What happened? The clock struck eleven.
That convinced us that the crime was committed before that hour. But
don't you see that if Guespin was at the Vulcan's Forges at ten he
could not have got back to Valfeuillu before midnight? Therefore it
was not--he who did the deed."
The detective, as he came to this conclusion, pulled out the
inevitable box and helped himself to a lozenge, at the same time
bestowing upon the judge a smile which said:
"Get out of that, if you can."
The judge's whole theory tumbled to pieces if M. Lecoq's deductions
were right; but he could not admit that he had been so much
deceived; he could not renounce an opinion formed by deliberate
reflection.
"I don't pretend that Guespin is the only criminal," said he. "He
could only have been an accomplice; and that he was."
"An accomplice? No, Judge, he was a victim.
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