As to her own place of residence, I took it for granted she must room in some attic close to the establishment of the cure of St. Roch. In this I was mistaken, for inside of two hours after I told her good night at the entrance of the café, Pierre Carnot had some interesting things to report.
I was seated at my piano in the boarding house at 29 rue des Pyramides when he knocked at my door. As he entered his eyes were alive with interest and excitement.
“Monsieur!” he exclaimed. “I have the honor to report that the old scrub woman of St. Roch walked south from the Café Martin, along rue St. Roch to the Rivoli. From the Jeanne d’Arc statue she continued south along the rue des Tuileries, crossed the Seine on the Pont Royal, thence along rue du Bac to rue de l’Universite, then west to the rue de Poitiers, where she entered a new apartment house at No. 10.
“I watched from a café diagonally across the street, and an hour and ten minutes after she entered the place she came out bareheaded and hailed a taxi from the rue l’Universite. As she stood close to the entrance of the building, a most lovely young woman, dressed in the height of fashion, came out, and after a few words with the old woman, who is evidently her servant, the taxi drove away with the young woman.
“The old woman looked after the departing taxi a moment, then shook her head as though dissatisfied about something, then reentered the building. I thought it best to report this to you, and await your further instructions.”
“Good work for a beginner, Pierre,” I assured him. “I know the locality of which you speak. You will go to the Hotel de l’Intendance and rent a room from which you will be able to observe the apartment house in question. If I am not mistaken you will find a garden in the rear of the apartment house, which backs up against the de l’Intendance.
“Here is some money on account of your expenses. You will drop the shadow of the old woman and take up the shadow of the young lady, who is probably, as you suspect, her mistress.
“If she uses a taxi, naturally it will be necessary for you to use one; if she walks, as a matter of course, you will walk. Use your best judgment, and report to me by phone, letter, or in person as occasion permits.”
“A hunch” appears to be little short of an inspiration.
As soon as young Pierre Carnot reported the result of his first two hours’ work to me, I had one of those indefinable “hunches” that the young woman whom he described as lovely, was a criminal who would well bear watching.
Further, I believed it quite possible she was in some way or other connected with the jewel robberies which were then going on in certain of the exclusive social strata of Paris. I immediately instructed Operative Hobbs to also move to the de l’Intendance, and detailed two operatives to assist himself and Pierre in the shadowing of the young mademoiselle.
In addition to this Hobbs, and the two operatives, Weems and Kipling, would secure whatever information it was possible to get that might be of value to the case.
Three days after these instructions were given out, Hobbs reported to me that the young woman often used a private automobile driven by a French chauffeur who appeared to be in her employ. Besides this she often used the public taxicabs of the city.
She came and went between the apartment house and several of the old homes belonging to the aristocracy of the St. Germain, as well as certain pretentious establishments on Boulevard Malesherbes. These were principally calls made during the afternoons.
Mornings she would sometimes drive to the Bois Boulogne, where she would meet a crowd of young people and go horseback riding with them. Occasionally she visited shops along the rue de la Paix, Boulevard des Capucinnes and Madeleine, as well as the Galleries Lafayette and Printemps, but in these visits there was nothing suspicious to be noted.
She simply shopped and spent money freely the same as any wealthy young society woman might do. That she belonged to the exclusive social set of the old regime in Paris there could be no doubt, but so far there had been no receptions, balls, or evening parties given, since the shadow on her had been in operation.
Young Pierre Carnot’s room was located where he could observe her occasionally moving about the small garden and walled courtyard to the rear of her apartment house.
The old woman of St. Roch came and went between the old church of St. Roch, the café of Mme. Martin, and the apartment house where she was evidently some kind of servant to the young mademoiselle, but for a while nothing out of the way occurred in her actions. Perhaps after all, she was but adding to a slender income by acting as a maid of all work to the younger woman.
From Pierre’s room at the de l’Intendance I had ample opportunity to observe the young mademoiselle, and, judging from what could be seen from that distance, I thought her to be not more than twenty-five years of age, and unusually graceful and good-looking.
Occasionally she had callers who drove up in expensive equipages. Pierre Carnot found out that her name was Jeanne Bizot. The name did not appear near the entrance, so Pierre succeeded in getting the information from a near-by café keeper, also that the young woman was supposed to be very rich, with many rich friends. She was said to be the orphan of wealthy parents.
I purchased a one-karat diamond ring in the Clichy district, close to Pigalle, at a bargain. It stood me approximately three thousand seven hundred and fifty francs, or close to one hundred and fifty dollars. This was in preparation of forcing a meeting with Mlle. Jeanne Bizot, through the old scrub woman of St. Roch or otherwise.
The ring I had purchased, as a matter of fact, would cost between four and five hundred dollars in expensive shops along the rue de la Paix.
The week before Christmas it had been cold and rainy, with an occasional flurry of snow. On a Friday evening it turned warmer, and I judged, from the shadow reports of my operatives, Mlle. Jeanne would be apt to take a stroll in the evening, after dinner, accompanied as usual by the old woman.
On my way to my boarding house for dinner, I noticed the old hag, sitting as usual at the table in the window of the Café Martin on rue St. Roch. And, as usual, I stepped in, bade her good evening, and bought her the customary aperitif.
Seated at the table, sipping our drinks, I casually remarked that I had purchased a diamond ring during the afternoon at what I considered a bargain for such a beauty. Her old eyes lit up with curiosity and greed as I produced the gem for her inspection.
“And,” questioned she, “how much did monsieur pay for it?”
“Twelve thousand francs,” I answered indifferently, “and I intend to buy some more—”
“What?” she fairly screeched, “twelve thousand francs? Robbers! Canaille! And you are about to allow them to fleece you again?” She gestured with her hands imploringly.
“Mon Dieu! This is too much. To see a fine gentleman like yourself robbed before my eyes. Monsieur, I pray you to buy no more jewels until I see you again. The fact is, I have a friend—”
She put a finger to her lips and looked cautiously around at the various patrons of the bar who were paying no attention to us.