Page:Murder on the Links - 1985.djvu/199

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Murder on the Links
 

be only one weapon, no suspicion was likely to attach to the girl who had had the second paper-knife in her possession. He was valiantly shielding the woman he had once loved—but at what a cost to himself! I began to realize the magnitude of the task I had so lightly set Poirot. It would not be easy to secure the acquittal of Jack Renauld by anything short of the truth.

M. Hautet spoke again, with a peculiarly biting inflection: “Madame Renauld told us that this dagger was on her dressing-table on the night of the crime. But Madame Renauld is a mother! It will doubtless astonish you, Renauld, but I consider it highly likely that Madame Renauld was mistaken, and that, by inadvertence perhaps. you had taken it with you to Paris. Doubtless you will contradict me—”

I saw the lad’s handcuffed hands clench themselves. The perspiration stood out in beads upon his brow, as with a supreme effort he interrupted M. Hautet in a hoarse voice: “I shall not contradict you. It is possible.”

It was a stupefying moment. Maitre Grosier rose to his feet, protesting. “My client has undergone a considerable nervous strain. I should wish it put on record that I do not consider him answerable for what he says.”

The magistrate quelled him angrily. For a moment a doubt seemed to arise in his own mind. Jack Renauld had almost overdone his part. He leaned forward and gazed at the prisoner searchingly.

“Do you fully understand, Renauld, that on the answers you have given me I shall have no alternative but to commit you for trial?”

Jack’s pale face flushed. He looked steadily back.

“M. Hautet, I swear that I did not kill my father.”

But the magistrate’s brief moment of doubt was over. He laughed a short, unpleasant laugh.

“Without doubt, without doubt—they are always innocent, our prisoners! By your own mouth you are condemned. You can offer no defense, no alibi—only a mere assertion which would not deceive a babe!—that you are not guilty. You killed your father, Renauld—a cruel and cowardly murder—for the sake of the money which you believed would come to you at

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