Murder in Paris

Catherine did not at first know what to make of Geoffrey Macadam. Did his stiffness betoken mere British reserve, or was he trying to hide a natural annoyance at having a strang...

During the pause which followed, Catherine had time to reflect that this young man was a lawyer, and as such would be extremely unlikely to part with information. Her brother-in...

In the open space taxis honked and porters jostled each other with the peculiarly vicious abandon characteristic of Paris. A few private cars were drawn up, and each of these th...

“What a terrible thing!” she exclaimed at last. “I had no idea it was as bad as this. But”--with a faint glimmer of hope--“are you quite sure she meant to do it? Couldn’t it hav...

She was none other than the blowsy woman Catherine had seen in the hall, and though she had put on a small, rather absurd apron, she still wore the satin blouse, and her bulging...

She found herself in a room unexpectedly small and narrow, furnished with sparse simplicity. Nearly everything was white, walls, covers, the bed-hangings, pendent from a sort of...

Geoffrey Macadam had been going through a struggle. Why this consuming eagerness to acquire news of an American girl whom he had not known existed till yesterday afternoon? Was...

“Oh, quite! At first I made excuses for them. They must, of course, have been fearfully upset over what had just occurred, and in no frame of mind for looking after a guest. But...

Hermione Cushing inhabited a small apartment high up in the rue de la Bienfaisance, on the edge of the quarter known as that of Europe. It is for the most part a typically Frenc...

A moment later Catherine was listening to a jumbled discourse, as full of irrelevant detail as the room about her. She could not take her eyes from the overblown spinster, who,...

She did not know why she should attach so much importance to the incident just related, nor why, during the next few days, she should keep seeing in her mind’s eye the white, du...

For the next few days Catherine was tormented by her suspicion. In justice she could not give it a stronger name, though from the first she was instinctively certain of the serv...

“But of course it was real!” she declared vigorously. “I tell you I watched it climb up the hangings and didn’t dare to speak for fear of waking you. There, it’s quite gone. We’...

Geoffrey was trying hard to read Catherine’s thoughts. Was she keeping something back? He fancied she was more deeply troubled than she was willing to admit, but he could not qu...

All that evening Geoffrey cudgelled his brain to recall how and where he had come across the butler’s companion. There might be no special point in remembering, yet, on the othe...

On Tuesday evening Catherine dined with Miss Cushing with the idea of discussing a project formed in her mind. Since events had shown her how hopeless it was to get rid of Jeann...

“Ah, well, what it is to be energetic,” she sighed with a luxurious yawn and, craning her neck towards the mirror, examined a pimple on her chin. “As for me, I could have slept...

His nerves still vibrating in response to the look he had just received, Geoffrey turned back for a moment to speak to his father. He found the old man running through some pape...

Catherine’s first feeling was one of relief that Jeanne had not seen her leaving the Macadam offices. Next she asked herself what errand had brought the woman to consult the sol...

Meantime in the rue Auber investigations were going on with commendable thoroughness. Macadam himself telephoned to various well-known picture dealers to inquire first the appro...

It was almost ten o’clock, but according to Geoffrey it was yet too early for what he planned to do. Catherine asked no further questions and possessed her soul in patience as t...

Outside Germaine’s door she stood, wondering what she ought to do. The sobbing continued softly, as though the hidden weeper were afraid of being overheard. It had a piteous sou...

She felt strangely sick and queer, her head going round. What was wrong with her? She had slept till ten, rung for her coffee and drunk it before she had noticed anything amiss....

The suffering passed, but she was distressingly ill for three whole days, during which she was ably cared for by Jeanne, who proved an efficient nurse. Berthe, too, bestirred he...

Geoffrey earnestly hoped his stupidity about Miss Cushing had passed unnoticed. Seriously concerned over Catherine, his one idea was to get her quickly and safely into his siste...

It was evening. Elspeth was bidding her children good night, Clement Baxter, her husband, was rummaging in search of some etchings, in the adjacent studio. Four candles in silve...

For a single instant her heart almost stopped beating. Germaine at the telephone? But this was impossible! Yet it was unmistakably her voice. Confused ideas rushed headlong upon...

Geoffrey lost no time in getting hold of Mme. Bender’s notes, neither of which had been destroyed. The bank manager expressed some astonishment at being asked for the one in his...

Geoffrey remained with the Baxters only long enough to smoke a cigarette and swallow a whisky and soda. Even this he consented to do with an unwilling air, elbows on his knees a...

“Mme. Henry Belmont Bender, of Numero 44 Avenue Henri Martin, met death in the early hours of this morning as the result of a fire in her apartment. No facts are yet known as to...

He stared hard into the Portuguese’s bloodshot eyes, trying to read the thoughts that lurked behind, then shifted his scrutiny to Jeanne’s sallow countenance. The two faces were...

Geoffrey cast his mind over Catherine’s acquaintances. Only two families did she know at all well, some Americans named Barton, in the rue Freycinet, and a young married couple,...

Catherine’s letter from the Hardwickes came as a complete surprise. Jim had finished his work at the British Museum sooner than he had expected, and the English weather remainin...

No words can convey Geoffrey’s agony of mind on receiving the butler’s cool denial. In that moment every shred of delusion was swept away, leaving him face to face with a stark...

“Let us not speak of this here, monsieur. We can discuss it all better at the Commissariat, if you will accompany me there.” Whereupon he led the way briskly towards the front e...

“She was here, then. She came home and went away again soon afterwards, leaving nothing behind her but her hat and this.” He indicated the lipstick. His tone was one of puzzled...

Geoffrey’s father had read Catherine’s message before sending it on, consequently at dinner there was little to discuss. The meal passed in strained silence, Geoffrey consuming...

The night had been one long jumble of phantasmas, sucking her back like quicksands whenever she seemed on the point of waking. In most of them fire had figured, thick foggy smok...

The watchers at the Commandant’s study window sat in almost unbroken silence, their eyes glued to the building across the way. In the window opposite a glow still showed, sugges...

“As a matter of fact, I did see such a car, monsieur,” he returned civilly. “It was standing along there, empty, twenty minutes ago, and just now it passed me as I crossed the A...

The inspector was cutting away the encircling bands of gauze. Kneeling beside him, Geoffrey watched with a stony expression, fatalistically certain that rescue had come too late...

Ten days passed before Catherine was considered well enough to discuss recent events without undue agitation, and while Geoffrey saw her each afternoon for a short time, their c...