STILL WATERS
"The records show that Henri Margot, alias Jean Carnot alias Jean Forette was married to Isabel Pelubit in Paris on March 17, four years ago, and that she died under suspicious circumstances three months later, leaving her husband all of a snug little fortune she possessed.
"All lies, monsieur - all lies!I do not believe anything you tell me!" "Well, that's very foolish of you, Mazi, for you can easily prove foryourself everything I tell you, and it will be better for you, in the end, if you do believe.""I do not.But go on with - more lies!" She shrugged her shoulders contemptuously.
Colonel Ashley leafed over a sheaf of papers he had spread out on the table in front of him.He and Mazi sat in a room in police headquarters in Lakeside.It was the day following the procession to the cottage on the moor.
"The records show," went on the detective, "that Henri Margot was arrested in Paris, charged with having poisoned his wife so that he might spend on another woman the money she possessed.But he was not convicted, chiefly because the chemists could not agree on the kind of poison that had caused death.""All lies - I do not believe," said Mazi, stolidly.
"Um!" mused the colonel."Well, Mazi, you're more stubborn than I thought.But it doesn't make any difference to me, you know.I'm paid for all this.Now let's see - what's next? Oh, yes.Then the records show that Henri, or Jean, whichever you choose to call him, came to this country.He fell in love with a pretty girl - she wasn't as pretty as you, Mazi, I'll say that - but he fell in love with her and married her - or pretended to.However, it was a fake ceremony, and she couldn't prove anything when he had spent all her money and tossed her aside.So there wasn't anything we could do to him that time.""More lies," said Mazi, calmly - or at least with the appearance ofcalmness.
"The records show," went on the inexorable voice of Colonel Ashley, that next Jean Carnot, as he called himself then, became infatuated with a pretty girl - and this time I'll say she was just about as pretty as you, Mazi- and her name was Annie Tighe.She was an Irish girl, and she insisted on being married by a priest, so there wasn't any faking there.Jean was properly married at least.""What do I care for all these lies?" sneered the girl, impatiently tapping her foot on the floor."Why do you bore me? I am not interested! I should like to see Jean.Ha! Where have you put him?""You'll see him soon enough, Mazi.I've got just a few more records to show you, and then I'm done.Now we come to the time when, after he found he couldn't get out of a legal marriage, Jean put his foot in it, so to speak.He was tied right, this time, so he took refuge in a lie when he wanted to shake off the bonds of matrimony, as my friend Jack Young would say.He told his wife - and she was his wife, and is yet - he told her the ceremony was a fake, that the priest was a false one, in his pay.""All lies! What do I care?" sneered Mazi, again shrugging her shoulders.
"Well, now let's get along.After our friend Jean found he was tired of his wife he shamed her into leaving him and she went - well, that isn't pleasant to dwell on, either.Except that he's the villain responsible for her going to the dogs.He sent her there just as he would have sent you, Mazi, except for what has happened.""You mean he is not my husband?" "Not in the least.""I do not believe you.It is all lies.These women are but jealous.Proceed.""That's about all there is to it, Mazi, except to show you the letter from your own priest, who confirms the fact that the priest who married Jean Carnot and Annie Tighe was legally authorized to do so, both by the laws of his own church and those of New York State, where the ceremony took place.You will believe Father Capoti, won't you?" and he laid beside the girl a letter which she read eagerly.
This time she said nothing about lies, but her face turned deadly pale."And this is the last exhibit," went on the colonel, as he laid aphotograph before Mazi.It showed a man and a girl, evidently in their wedding finery, and the face of the man was that of Jean Forette, and that of the girl was of the woman who had groveled on the sand at the feet of the chauffeur the night before, - Morocco Kate.
"Look on the back," suggested the detective, and when Mazi turned the photograph over she read:
"The happiest day of my life - Jean Carnot.""If you happen to have any love letters from him - and I guess you have," went on the colonel, "you might compare the writing and - ""I have no need, monsieur," was the low answer."I - God help me.- I believe now! Oh, the liar! If I could see him now - ""I rather thought you'd want to," murmured the colonel."Bring him in!" he called.
The door opened, and, handcuffed to a stalwart officer, in slunk Jean of the many names.
Mazi sprang to her feet, her face livid.She would have leaped at the prisoner, but the colonel held her back.But he could not hold back the flood of voluble French that poured from her lips.
"Liar! Dog!" she hissed at him."And so you have deceived me as you deceived others! You lied - and I thought he lied!" and she motioned to the colonel."Oh, what a silly fool I've been! But now my eyes are open! I see! I see!"With a quick gesture, before the colonel could stop her, she tore in half the picture that had swept away all her doubts.
