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Through the Wall

Chapter 9 COQUENIL MARKS HIS MAN

Word Count: 3112    |    Released on: 30/11/2017

was still dark, although day was breaking in the east. And what a night it had been! How much had happened since he walked with his dog to Notre

her a fond farewell? Could he explain it to anyone, even to himself? Did he honestly believe all the plausible things he had said to Pougeot and the others about this crime? Was it really the wonderful af

nything quite like that. And the billiard player's motive in boring the holes and the woman's r?le and the intricacy and ingenuity of the murderer's plan-all these offered an extraordinary problem. And it certainly was strange that this candle-selling g

the Palais de Justice to report to Hauteville. No use going home. Better have a rubdown and a cold plunge at the haman, then a turn on the mat with the professional wrestler, and then a few hours sleep. That would put him in shape for

that a gentleman was approaching him with the intention of speaking. Turning quickly, he saw in the uncertain light a man of medium height with a dark beard tinged with gra

where he had come by the merest accident, and, certainly, this was the first time in twenty years that anyone, except his mother, had addressed him a

e is Louis?" answered the de

and then with significant emphasis: "I know that you

nd was absorbed in this new problem. Instinctivel

tting on that cab to-ni

know ab

your decision." His voice was harsh and he spoke in a quick, br

e 'we'?" asked

interested in thi

whom you

a

the crime-I mean, who

ssi

know what covered the

anese

n Numb

ellow h

surprise. "Do they know why

woman," was t

ant Martin

N

she want the

to see into

wledge but his unaccountable frankness. And

ut the affair," he said dryly

ons I rep

" interrupted Coquenil. "A cri

lessly. "Then the person I represent w

re was something vaguely formidable in the stranger's tone, as if a great p

," retorte

ou say na

against him should cease. Tell your friend or empl

dark-bearded man answered, quite unruffled:

sir, my time

h an elastic band and handed it to the detective. "Whatever your time is w

inal methods. Who was this supercilious man? How dared he come on such an errand to him, Paul Coquenil? What desper

ndered envelope and saw that it conta

arge sum here

e finish. This sum is a bonus in addition to the salary already fixed. And, remember, you have a life position there with

are that for fame. I'm going to work out

e so sternly and with such a menacing ring in his

ot?" h

t, but there's a chance that you could and we don't purpose to take that c

tterance, and M. Paul caught a threatening

hy

made to suffer in ways you do not dream of, through those

-" cried

g now, am I not? Don't you suppose I know what you are thinkin

tice. Undoubtedly, the fellow realized his danger, yet he deliberately faced it. What plan could he have for getting away once his message was delivered? It must be practically delivered already, there was nothing more to say, he had offered a bribe and made a thre

gle against our knowledge and our resources, quite hopeless. We have, for exampl

inkle of humor shone in his eyes.

lan

the canary bird I

rd, it's a bullfinch.

muttered the other, and the

at Notre-Dame. So how can you fight us? How can you shadow people who shadow you? Who watch your actions from day to day, from hour to hour? W

, and then: "Here's your money,"

you re

ref

ng of it, now act. I'm a suspicious character, I ought to be investigated. Well, do your duty. I might point out that such an arrest would accomplish absolutely nothing, for you haven'

all bounds. "You mean that I can

h a distinct advantage in position, here on the Champs E

ered M. Paul, a grim purpose

my words and this warning when I am gone." Then, with a final fling of defiance: "This is the first time you have

rpose here? Was the man deliberately making some subtle move in the game he was playing? The detective paused to think. They had come down the Champs Elysées, past the Ans

," said the detective. "I'd l

as you

ot natural, then wonderfully imitated. And the hands, the arms? He had watched these from the first, noting every movement, particularly the left hand and the left arm, but he had detected nothing significant; the

ything against me person

red the other, "we admir

threate

cessar

my mo

ecess

lysées slowly, past the fountain and the tulip beds, and, turning into the Avenue Gabrielle, stopped under the chestnut trees, its engines throbbing. Like a flash it came into the detective's mind that the same automobile had

at and pressing him back with intertwining legs for a sudden fall. The bearded man saved himself by a quick turn, and with a great heave of his shoulders broke the detective's grip, then suddenly he attacked, smiting for the neck, not with c

h his right,"

m in his two hands, one at the wrist, one at the elbow, and as his trained fingers sought the painful pressure points, his two free arms started a resistless torsion movement on the captured arm. There is no escape from this movement, no enduring its excruciating

d the end would come, a few seconds more and-then a crashing, shattering pain drove through Coquenil's lower heart region, his arms relaxed, his hands relaxed, his senses dimmed, and he sank weakly to the ground. His enemy had done an extraordinary thing, had delivered a blow not provided for in Jitsu tactics. In spite of the torsion torture, he had swung his free arm under the dete

ictory, slowly incr

the spasms of pain overcame him, his muscles would not act, and with a furious sense of helplessness and failure, he felt the clutched leg slippin

about him. The stranger was gone. The automobile was gone. And it all came back to him in sickening memory, the flaunting challenge of this

d conflict was precisely what the stranger had sought and planned for, because-because-In feverish haste Coquenil felt in his breast pocket for the envelope with the p

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