“What do you make of it, Doctor?” the Inspector asked.
“I don’t think he was a shoplifter. None of these things has sufficient value to justify theft. Nor was he a kleptomaniac — you’ve noticed they were all carefully wrapped and many of them had a cashier’s check tucked under the string.”
“Do you think Galmet had an abnormal passion for shopgirls and made these purchases simply to have an excuse for talking to them? In the long run, that would involve his spending a lot of money. The slippers alone cost him over a thousand francs a day. And he couldn’t afford to be that extravagant... Shall I give you my honest opinion?”
Inspector Lucas paused, and when Dollent nodded the Inspector went on: “Don’t-be too cocky over what I am going to say. I know your methods by now and I know under what circumstances each of us works better. Well, to be frank this is your kind of case. There’s something... well, pathological about it. Galmet’s not the type we’re accustomed to deal with. And his murderer quite terrifies me with his cold-blooded assurance...”
Instead of thanking Lucas for the compliment, the Little Doctor gave a deep sigh.
“You’re not too keen about the case either?” queried the Inspector.
“Not until I have something to go on — some clue, some sign... I can’t for the life of me fathom...”
“If there’s anything I can do...”
“Yes, there’s one thing. I’d like you to find out from the various stores where he bought these things whether he always came back for several days in succession and whether he went to the same clerk every time.”
It was a good thing that the Little Doctor didn’t mind making a fool of himself. He wasn’t bothered by the fact that the clerks at the neighboring counters, who must have been warned of his little game, neglected their customers and looked over at him, nudging one another, some of them stifling a giggle at his expense.
He had eaten a good lunch, topped by coffee and liqueur, and had ordered a couple of cocktails in anticipation of the next meal. What did the case add up to? A man was dead, and nobody knew a thing about him. Indeed a duller and yet more mysterious individual would have been hard to imagine. Galmet had not a single friend or relation, and appeared to have lived in complete solitude. And yet it was to someone’s interest that he should die. The only established fact — the only leg he could stand on, as the Little Doctor put it to himself — was that Justin Galmet had gone to quite a few stores, each for a certain number of days in succession, and had bought the same articles from the same clerk every day, articles for which he had no use and simply stuffed into his wardrobe.
It was a quarter past 6, and Dollent was sitting with his left shoe off in the very chair in which Galmet had died. He said to Gaby:
“Repeat exactly the same motions you went through with the man who was killed.”
“You mean I am to try to fit you with a pair of slippers?” she asked, moving clumsily because of her reawakened fear.
“Just so — with the same motions and even the same rhythm.”
“Should I try to hurt you, too?” she said with a feeble smile.
The Little Doctor surveyed the scene. Glancing upward, he saw part of the jewelry department on the second floor. He recognized Alice, who looked down at him from time to time over the railing. Just above her were the toys, among them a miniature soldier’s outfit with two pistols. These were not dangerous weapons, however, because they only shot toy arrows. Because of his angle of vision he could see no more of the upper floors than the gilded railings running around them.
“Oh! I hear music,” he observed, at the same time screwing his face into a grimace because the slipper Gaby was trying on was too small. “Is that a regular feature?”
“Don’t speak to me about it! It’s the hardest thing in the world to get used to, and it goes on all day long. When it’s quiet music, I don’t mind so much, but at this hour they put on two-steps and marches in order to quicken the customers’ pace and speed them on their way. And the jazz!... Shall I keep trying on the slippers?”
The Little Doctor’s eyes ran over the main floor. Just in front of him there was a bargain counter, where every week a different item was on display. To his left was a cashier’s cage, marked “No. 89” and, just behind that, a gilded door opening onto the crowded sidewalk.
“Why is this part of the shop more crowded than...?” he started to ask, suddenly guessing the answer when he noticed a subway entrance just outside.
“I’ve tried on six pairs...” Gaby was saying.
“And how many did you try on him?”
“Sometimes as many as seven. Once nine, as I remember.”
“What made the difference?”
“I don’t know.”
It certainly wasn’t the slippers, for Justin Galmet had never even taken them out of the boxes, much less worn them. A sudden thought caused the Little Doctor to smile. He had just lowered his eyes. Could it be that?... No! That wasn’t sufficient reason for killing a man. It was true, however, that as Gaby leaned over to try on the slippers, the opening of her dress slipped down, affording a view of her breasts... After all, Galmet had gone previously to the jewelry department and Alice didn’t have to lean over to show him her wares. And in other shops Galmet had made entirely different purchases — innocuous ones.
“You’ll have to make up your mind,” Gaby was repeating. “The closing bell’s about to ring.”
Sure enough, a loud clang filled the spacious store with its vibrations. Customers made for the doors, clerks bustled about, and floorwalkers, in their black jackets and boutonnieres, darted around like sheep dogs, saying: “Closing time, ladies and gentlemen — time to go home!”
At the cashier’s cage, last-minute purchases were being rung up. The cashier put down a big yellow envelope in order to rake in a handful of francs.
“Will you take these, then?” Gaby was asking.
“Those or any others...”
The Little Doctor insisted in seeing the experiment through. If only he could get himself into the dead man’s shin — and discover what he had been looking at from this particular vantage point on the preceding days! That was the crucial question.
Meanwhile, Gaby was slipping on his left shoe.
“This way,” she said.
He was about to ask her why she was leading him in a direction opposite to that of the exit when he saw the reason for himself. The cashier of “No. 89” was emerging from her cage with a yellow envelope in her hand, and above the cage itself hung a sign saying Closed.
“Come with me,” said Gaby. “Only the central cash register is still open.”
The Little Doctor, taking in every detail of the scene around him, almost lost track of the young woman who was leading him against the tidal wave of outgoing customers.
“Thirteen hundred and sixty francs,” said the central cashier.
Turning around to look over his shoulder, the Little Doctor thought he saw the cashier from “No. 89” about to enter an elevator with the yellow envelope still in her hand. Gaby put a parcel into his hand and looked at him anxiously, as if wondering whether he had discovered some clue. Dollent shrugged his shoulders and dug into his pocket for the sixty francs in small change.
“Will you be back tomorrow?” Gaby asked him curiously.
“Perhaps... Yes, I think I will.”
Once outside, the Little Doctor was so at a loss what, to do with the slippers that he took advantage of the swirling crowd to drop them on the sidewalk...