wn ideas, and as of
course the police wouldn't let me go into the room where it happened,
the next best thing would be to take the room close to it, in the house
adjoining. I wanted to be there only long enough to "get the emotion,
the sensation," I explained, so as to make my article really dramatic.
Would the people who occupied that room let it to me for a few hours?
Long before bedtime they could have it back again, if I got on well with
my writing.
The concierge, to whom I gave ten francs as a kind of retaining fee, was
almost sure the occupants of the room (an old man and his wife) would
willingly agree to such a proposal, if I paid them well enough for their
trouble in turning out.
Would three louis be enough? I asked. The concierge--whose eyes
brightened--thought that it would. I knew by his look that he would take
a large commission for managing the affair, as he quickly offered to do;
but that didn't matter to me.
He confirmed my idea that it would have been hopeless to try and get
into the room of the murder itself, even if I could have borne it,
saying that the door, and window too, had been sealed by the police, who
were also guarding the house from curiosity seekers; but he added that I
could see the shut window from the balcony of the room I was going to
hire.
I waited for him, and played with his very unattractive baby while he
went upstairs to make enquiries. He was gone for some time, explaining
to the people; but at last, when my patience was almost too far
strained, he came back to say that Monsieur and Madame Nissot had
consented to go out of their room for the evening. They were dining at
the moment, however, and Mademoiselle must be pleased to wait a few
moments until they finished the meal and gathered up a few things which
they could carry to a neighbour's: books, and work for their hours of
absence, the concierge politely suggested. But that was to save my
feelings, no doubt, for I was sure the husband and wife meant to make a
parcel of any valuables which could possibly be carried off by an
unscrupulous American journalist. Also, they stipulated that payment
must be made in advance. To this I agreed willingly. And then--I waited,
waited. It was tedious, but after all, the tediousness didn't matter
much when I came to think of it. It would be impossible to do the thing
I had made up my mind to do, till after dark.
MAXINE DE RENZIE'S PART
CHAPTER XVII
MAXINE MAKES
|