“Look here,” said the manager. “The police think it was a professional job. I only wish it were. But I can’t see why a regular criminal should have it in for a poor fellow who was obviously off his trolley. For my part, I’m afraid the killing was the work of a madman. You know, of course, that big stores, like newspaper offices and public buildings, attract lunatics of all kinds. And if my theory is correct, the madman is bound to shoot again. Such things happen in waves, and no matter how many precautions are taken, there isn’t much that can be done. The newspaper accounts have already hurt our business — yesterday there were hardly any sales in the slipper department or its vicinity. A crowd of sensation-seekers were constantly milling about, but without ever approaching too closely... So go ahead with your investigation, Doctor. I don’t know your methods, and I’m told you haven’t any. But here’s a card authorizing you to go anywhere in the store and interview all our employees... But perhaps I should first introduce you to Alice of our jewelry department. She made a statement to me last night that I wish her to repeat in your presence. Of course, I don’t put much stock in what women say. I know how their imaginations usually run away with them...”
The manager sent for Alice, who proved to be a tall, pale girl with eyes and manner that suggested, just as the manager had said, that she was prey to a vivid imagination. Obviously she read trashy novels and doted on moving-picture stars.
“Will you repeat to this gentleman...?”
The girl was noticeably disturbed and spoke with nervous volubility.
“Well, as I told... well, I saw the picture in the paper, because on the actual day of the crime I was off duty. As soon as I saw the picture I recognized him. Before he began giving Gaby trouble, I was the one he...”
“What do you mean?” asked the little Doctor. “Did he make propositions to you?”
“No — not that. But for several days — I might be able to look up the exact number — he came to my department...”
“At a quarter past 6?”
“Between 5 and 6... Of course, customers often come just to see us girls — we catch on to that fast enough. First of all, they make a small purchase. Well, he had a watch-chain with him and said he was looking for a snap-hook. I showed him a dozen or more and finally he bought one. He came back the next day and said the hook had broken, through his own fault. I didn’t swallow that, because I knew the hook wouldn’t break in one day. Well, he talked around and about it for some time and finally bought another...”
“And did he come back the next day at the same time?”
“Yes, it must have been for two whole weeks that he came every afternoon to buy a snap-hook.”
“Didn’t it ever occur to you that he might be a thief?”
“Yes, it did. My first thought was that he might be a shoplifter. I kept my eye on him and asked a store detective to do the same while I was busy looking for what he wanted.”
“And then?” prodded Dollent.
“That’s all,” and Alice sighed with relief.
“Tell me one thing more,” the Little Doctor persisted. “Where is your department located?”
“Oh, yes, it’s on the second floor — just above slippers and just below toys. That fact struck me too, when I read about it in the paper. I asked to see the manager...”
A few seconds later, after Alice had left, the manager said to the Little Doctor:
“I’m sceptical, as I told you. But I gave the police the gist of her statement and asked them to check on her. It seems that for several weeks now, valuable pieces have been disappearing from her department...”
“Is that unusual?”
“Oh, we expect a certain number of thefts, and the average is always pretty much the same, except during the holidays when thieves make a killing... But the quantity and value of what’s been missing lately from the jewelry department are particularly high...”
It was almost terrifying to come out of the manager’s office and lean over the great well of the store, which was as big as a ship and buzzing with the voices of the crowd below. How in the world was the Little Doctor to begin? He shrugged his shoulders, stepped into an elevator, and a minute later was walking along the Chaussée-d’Antin. There, with the same rapidity as if he were taking aspirin, he swallowed two glasses of brandy. Then he proceeded to the Rue Notre-Dame-de-Lorette, number 67. He was just about to knock at the concierge’s window when he saw Police Inspector Lucas interviewing her inside.
For the dead man had now been identified. He was Justin Galmet, 48 years old, no known profession, domiciled for the last twenty years at the Rue Notre-Dame-de-Lorette, number 67.
“Do you want to question her too?” suggested Inspector Lucas, opening the door. “Otherwise, you can go up with me to Galmet’s apartment.”
The house was typical of middle-class Paris, or rather of the Montmartre section. It was an old building, whose dark, dingy halls were filled with kitchen odors and the shrill sound of children’s voices and blaring radios. The apartment was on the fifth floor, facing the courtyard. Its three rooms were furnished in heavy provincial style; a canary cage hung in the middle of the window and there was a pot of geraniums on either side.
“Nobody will disturb us,” said the Inspector. “The concierge tells me that Justin Galmet never had any visitors. He was an old bachelor, with fussy ways. She claims that she came up once a week to give the place what she calls a thorough cleaning, but I imagine she actually did very little. Most of the time Galmet made his own bed and cooked his own breakfast and lunch. He went out around 2 o’clock in the afternoon and came back at 9, usually with his arms full of parcels. Then he dined at a little restaurant on the corner of the Rue Lepic. I’ve already called the place and found that he was a familiar figure there. He had a table reserved near the window and treated himself to delicacies of various kinds. He ate his dinner slowly, while reading the evening papers, wound up with a cup of coffee and a liqueur, and then went quietly home... But I have something much more startling to tell you...”
Here Inspector Lucas paused to weigh the effect of his words upon the Little Doctor.
“I found Justin Galmet’s name in our files,” Lucas continued, “not as a criminal but as a member of the Force. He joined up 25 years ago and served for four years before resigning. Someone had left him some money, he stated, and his intention was to live on the income from it. I turned up some fellows who used to know him and asked them about him. They described him as a lonely, taciturn sort. He was inclined to be lazy and used to sit for hours over a bottle of beer. And even then he had developed a taste for good food. A man fated to be a bachelor... Now, shall we look over the premises together?”
Galmet’s apartment was not exactly clean, but neither was it as disorderly as a man living alone might have left it. Dollent began by giving food and drink to the canary. The open window afforded the traditional view of the rooftops of Paris, gleaming in the sun. Lucas had opened a big old wardrobe and now he called out to his companion:
“Look here! This is full of parcels that haven’t even been untied. From different stores... Do you want to help me cut the strings?”
The two men proceeded to do the unpacking. They found not only many pairs of slippers, but a number of other heterogeneous objects as welclass="underline" earthenware plates, cuts of rayon material, combs, toothbrushes, bottles of hair tonic, and a collection of pipes, although the concierge had said that Galmet was not a smoker. In most cases, the price tags were still attached.