The Five Detectives
by GABRIEL BERNARD
CHAPTER V
The Wedding Party

SUMMARY OF PREVIOUS SERIES Constance Phips, the American billionaire's daughter, married Baron Gontran de Champval at La Madeleine. Now, just as all the guests were gathered at the "Mundial Palace," rented out entirely for the occasion, it was discovered that the young bride had mysteriously disappeared. They searched everywhere in vain for her. A hotel bellhop discovered a veil belonging to Constance in an annex, and at the same time, they learned that a traveler, English or American, had rushed to the Gare du Nord.
Despite his paternal anxiety, Reginald Phips was still dominated by the fear of ridicule, and Adélaïde de Saint-Enguerrand was giving him the greatest comfort at that moment by sparing him the trouble of informing his guests.

Thank you, he murmured.
Deeply annoyed, the director of the Mundial Palace offered to go in person to the local police station or headquarters.
"I'll call the prefect myself," said Reginald Phips. in a burst of energy.
While the billionaire notified the police prefect, and the latter, immediately appreciating the nature of such an affair and the repercussions it was bound to have, mobilized the best bloodhounds in the house, Mlle de Saint-Enguerrand summoned Baron de Champval and Countess Zitti to a salon adjoining the Venetian hall.
In a few clear and precise words, without superfluous commentary, she recounted to them the inexplicable disappearance of the bride and the contradictory circumstances surrounding it. Gontran, terribly pale, was on the verge of fainting. Adélaïde had foreseen this violent reaction. That is why she asked Countess Zitti to join her at the same time as the Baron. The latter was thus provided with friendly assistance capable of calming the first transports of his despair.
The Countess did not fail in this difficult task, and Mlle de Saint-Enguerrand was able to leave to accomplish the most delicate part of the mission she had spontaneously assumed: informing the guests. Adélaïde de Saint-Enguerrand carried out this mission in such a way that her words could not be interpreted maliciously or simply ironically.

All those gathered in the sumptuous setting of the famous Venetian hall of the Mundial Palace felt the breath of a mysterious tragedy pass over them. Mlle. de Saint-Enguerrand had told them enough to ensure that a single hypothesis imposed itself on everyone's minds: that of a criminal ambush that would be resolved by some kind of blackmail under the threat of murder.

She had spoken thus, the intelligent and energetic Adélaïde, in order to spare the father and husband the threat of ridicule, in which she had completely succeeded. But, deep down, she realized that the causes of this event, which had turned the life of a father upside down, were and a husband were, for the moment, indecipherable. The facts contradicted each other.

The maid Ernestine's account could not be reconciled with the hunter Emile's discovery, made in a building of the Mundial Palace as far away as possible from Constance's apartment. Moreover, the coincidence of engineer James Pinkwell's departure could just as easily be considered fortuitous as the result of criminal collusion. Finally, there was the terrible phone call that had crushed Reginald Phips... Yet, since not a single minute had been wasted in notifying the police chief by telephone, there was reason to hope. A tragic outcome could still be prevented.
One can imagine the stupor of the billionaire's guests after Mlle de Saint-Enguerrand informed them of Constance's disappearance. Although most of them were hungry, there was no question of them eating the wonderful lunch that had been was preparing to serve them.
Everyone wanted to offer words of compassion to Reginald Phips and Baron Gontran de Champval; but Adelaide protected the two unfortunates from the importunate solicitude of their hosts. Then there was general chaos. Those who lived in the Mundial Palace prepared to return to their apartments. The others thought of asking for their cloakroom... However, just as the first groups were about to cross the door of the Venetian hall, several energetic-faced men blocked their path. One of these men, dressed with perfect correctness, stepped forward a few steps and said aloud:

- Ladies and gentlemen, I am obliged to inform you that I cannot authorize anyone to leave here before being questioned... "Without suspecting it; perhaps one of you can provide us with some valuable information..." "I am the police commissioner of the Champs-Élysées district..."
There were murmurs in the audience. But, willingly or not, everyone had to submit to the commissioner's wishes.
They had to state their identities, and one by one, the billionaire's guests filed into a small room temporarily converted into a police office to answer a few questions. Once the initial bout of bad mood had passed, everyone complied willingly.
No one, indeed, could blame the police for gathering as much evidence as possible from the very beginning of their investigation. Given the number of guests, these summary interrogations lasted almost the entire afternoon. While they followed one another without interruption, numerous inspectors snooped throughout the hotel and the annex. All exits, of course, were strictly guarded. For their part, the staff were also called upon to provide all the information they could muster.
Finally, a senior official from the Prefecture, who had established his headquarters in Constance's own apartment, sent agents on missions in the most varied directions. In short, the police spared no effort to gather all the elements of their information in the shortest possible time.
Slumped in an armchair, the poor billionaire, after using his last strength to answer the magistrates who had questioned him with pitying deference, remained listless, almost dazed, his eyes lost in space, his mouth twisted from time to time by a painful contraction. At his side, Countess Zitti and Mademoiselle de Saint-Enguerrand were trying to calm Baron de Champval, who would suddenly emerge from a state of despondency similar to his father-in-law's only to give in to vehement fits of despair, sometimes talking about killing himself and sometimes wanting to act furiously, running anywhere... Toward evening, despite all their activity, the police had achieved only rather meager results. What attested to the fragility of the information they had gathered was that their best bloodhounds were divided into four camps:
The first believed in a cleverly premeditated kidnapping. Others held to the hypothesis of a murder motivated by revenge. Still others leaned toward the young bride's voluntary escape. Finally, there were those who were not far from thinking it was a monumental hoax, patiently crafted by the billionaire's personal enemy. A man as rich as Reginald Phips was bound to have a few on both sides of the Atlantic! The evening papers multiplied their special editions, and the public snapped them up. While the police were divided into four camps, the "Mystery of the Mundial Palace" contained no fewer than twenty different versions in the articles published by the newspapers.

Their columns contained a copious array of hypotheses, most of them likely, even plausible, but all of which shared the same flaw: they were not corroborated by any indisputable fact. It should be added that, despite the most diligent and astute searches, the engineer James Pinkwell had not been found when the last edition of the latest evening paper went to press. Did this man possess the key to the enigma? It was as foolhardy to deny it as to affirm it.
The mystery remained intact.
CHAPTER VI
Three Months Later

Three months had passed since Constance Phips's disappearance, and, despite all their searches, the police, after having lost their way on many false trails, had not managed to find any trace of the young Baroness de Champval. It is fair to add that the English and American police, asked to cooperate in the investigations, had not been more fortunate than the French police. Nothing, which is called nothing, had been found.
Such an absolutely negative result had not failed to wound certain professional pride. The prevailing opinion, henceforth, was no longer any of those that assumed a tragedy of murder, suicide, or criminal kidnapping, but a hypothesis formulated in these terms in a police report:

"This disappearance was certainly completely engineered by the main person concerned, that is to say, by Miss Constance Phips herself. "This young girl, whose heart was elsewhere taken, went to "live her life" with a chosen one; and, as, by her father's admission, she had enormous sums of money at her disposal without control, it was easy for her to settle in Paris or elsewhere, in any social condition that left no room for suspicion. "While it may seem surprising that she went as far as celebrating her marriage to Baron de Champval, inclusive, before slipping away, a very simple explanation suggests itself upon reflection: Either Miss Constance Phips was unable to act sooner, or she wanted to mock a man whom, despite appearances, she loathed, since she "loved another..."

It is understandable that when he received this report, countersigned by one of the highest-ranking officials of the Sûreté, Mr. Barrimand, the investigating judge appointed to investigate the mystery of the Mundial Palace, had only one decision to make: to close the case, at least until a new fact, highly improbable in his opinion, allowed him to investigate with some chance of success. Moreover, Mr. Barrimand, who had been widely praised in the magazines, was beginning to get fed up with this disappointing case, and he shared the police officers' skepticism.
"That little American girl is a scamp," he would happily repeat, "and it is beneath the dignity of the justice system to lend itself to the charade she has staged..." "Certainly, the father is a wretch to be pitied, despite his millions..." "As for the husband, he's simply an imbecile, like so many others..."
On the very day that Mr. Barrimand was delivering this little speech for the tenth time to his clerk, who was precisely in the process of tying up the Phips case file to bury it in the closet of closed cases, a scene, which was to have major consequences for the main characters in our story, was being played out in one of the salons of the villa in Saint-Germain-en-Laye where Reginald Phips had retired immediately after the event that had turned his life upside down. In this villa, a vast and luxurious residence, located on the edge of the forest and isolated from the houses Closed to the nearest by an immense park, abundant in tall trees, Reginald Phips could wall himself up in the solitude his grief craved. And yet, remaining so close to Paris, he had every opportunity to make contact, when necessary, with magistrates, police officers, and, in general, anyone he deemed necessary in the search for Constance. In truth, Reginald Phips did not live entirely alone in the Villa des Narcisses; that was the name of the dwelling rented by the billionaire.

The house also housed his private secretary, a taciturn, phlegmatic, and staid Yankee named Sam Quickson, who handled the King of Dynamos' business correspondence with his American industrial companies. Finally, Baron Gontran de Champval, whose grief was no less than that of his father-in-law, had offered him the chance to live with him, he had said.

Consider me your son. "I want to be constantly close to you to assist you. Closely united in adversity, we will be stronger against grief. Staying close to you, is that not the first duty of one who, like yourself, has been struck at the beginning of his life by Constance's passing? "Deeply moved by his son-in-law's tone, Reginald Phips gratefully accepted.
The gesture of Baron de Champval was unanimously approved, both in Parisian society and in the American colony. It revealed both a beautiful generosity of soul and a great love.
Moreover, two people had access to the Villa des Narcisses: Countess Flora Zitti and Miss Adélaïde de Saint-Enguerrand, the two devoted friends who, from the very beginning, had spared no effort to ease the grief of the unfortunate father as much as possible. However, Adélaïde's visits were much less frequent than those of the Countess, who came daily as a neighbor, since she owned a villa in Saint-Germain-en-Laye. These details, essential to the clarity of our story, having been given, let us come to what was happening in the villa of the Narcisses on the day when the investigating judge Barrimand decided to close the case labeled "Constance de Champval, née Phips".

That morning, around ten o'clock, Reginald Phips, in his study, was listening to his secretary's daily report on the progress of his affairs in America, when Baron de Champval, having knocked discreetly, entered the room, which had the effect of interrupting the documentary discourse of the phlegmatic Sam Quickson. The father-in-law noticed that the son-in-law had a clear, almost joyful face. This was certainly the first time such an event had occurred since Constance's disappearance, the two men usually seemed to vie with each other in sadness. Now, by a singular coincidence, Reginald Phips too, was, that morning, much less depressed, much less gloomy than usual. My dear father-in-law, said the Baron, for the first time since... the event, I have something to announce to you that resembles good news...
Truly! exclaimed Reginald Phips. "Well, I too, dear Gontran, must tell you, if not something happy, at least a hope based on serious reasons..."
"Could Mr. Barrimand finally be in possession of a reliable clue?" Baron de Champval asked. "Phew! Gontran, the investigating judge, in terms of a reliable clue, called me last night that he was about to close the case... No, my friend, what I have to tell you is completely unrelated to Mr. Barrimand's fruitless investigation..." Breaking off to address Sam Quickson, the billionaire dismissed his secretary in these words: "You can leave, Sam... I don't want to hear any more about my American affairs until tomorrow..." The King of the Dynamos' secretary slipped away without a word. Yet an observer with some psychological intuition would certainly have perceived in him the fleeting but certain signs of discontent.

CHAPTER VII
Bagadama

When the father-in-law and son-in-law were alone together:
"I am eager, Gontran," said the billionaire, "to hear your good news..."
"I am no less impatient," replied the baron, "to learn the reasons for your hope..."
"My dear Gontran..." I will do nothing... The deference I owe you requires that I listen to you."
"Speak first, I beg you,

first of all...
about the subject...
"No, Gontran, I urge you to inform me first... You came to my office of your own accord, and if I hadn't made it clear that I intended to tell you something new, we wouldn't be discussing this question of precedence, which is somewhat futile, you must admit, given the seriousness of the matter. This debate, however, was only seemingly futile. In reality, each of the two speakers had serious reasons for knowing what the other had to say before offering their own.
Both secretly feared disapproval, as happens when two allies act separately, and finally realizing that Reginald Phips would not deviate from his resolve, Baron de Champval relented. "So be it," he said, "I will speak first..."

(To be continued.)
Gabriel BERNARD.