Free The Milliner's Hat Mystery by Basil Thomson Page A

large quantity of hats sold to England. Unless I am much mistaken, she will tell me that she knows nothing about it. If you gentlemen have no objection I will go alone and report to you afterwards the result of my enquiry.”
    â€œThere is one other service that you might do for me, monsieur,” said Vincent. “It is to ascertain whether two Americans—G. Lewis and R. Blake— have taken out cards of identity at any time.”
    â€œNothing easier; I can give you that information from the telephone.” He picked up his receiver and called a number. “Verneuil speaking. It concerns two Americans, G. Lewis and R. Blake.” He spelt out the names. “Have they taken out cards of identity at any time? Ring me when you have the information.”
    He replaced the receiver and looked triumphantly at Vincent as who should say: “You see how wonderfully things are organized on this side of the Channel.” While the telephone was being used Vincent had a brain wave. He knew that the road to a Frenchman’s heart was down his throat. He would ask Verneuil to meet him and Goron for lunch and let him choose his pet restaurant. As he had expected, the ex-petty officer turned detective accepted with alacrity.
    â€œThis falls well, monsieur. I shall have seen Madame Germaine and can make my report to you over the hors d’oeuvres .”
    The telephone bell began to tinkle. Verneuil took up the receiver and then turned to Vincent and said, not without pride in his tone: “Two Americans— Rupert Blake and George Lewis—took out cards of identity in the fifteenth arrondissement last January. Their address at that time was 9, rue Violet. There, my friend, our system may not be perfect but at any rate it works.”
    â€œThank you, monsieur; that information may be very useful to me. And now we will say ‘au revoir’ until twelve-thirty, when we meet at your pet restaurant near the Quai d’Orsay.”
    As the two friends left the office, Goron said: “We are in luck, my friend. That restaurant Verneuil is taking us to is kept by the ex- maître d’hotel of a cardinal famous for his cuisine. Now I must go and make my peace with Jacqueline and get her permission to lunch out.”
    â€œAnd I must return to my hotel to make myself fit to be seen. I came straight to you this morning from the boat train.”
    Vincent, looking immaculate, was the first to arrive at the restaurant, where he was received with ceremony by the proprietor who, as he remarked later, treated him as he would have treated a foreign diplomatist with a string of titles before his name. Goron, with meticulous punctuality, was close on his heels; Verneuil was ten minutes late and they sat down at their reserved table to wait for him. He came bursting in full of apologies.
    â€œYou will forgive me when I tell you the cause. I was right when I said that in my opinion that milliner knew nothing about that extravagant bill.”
    â€œYou mean that someone must have stolen one of her bill-heads?”
    â€œSo she said. She assured me that she had no export trade with England, that being a great admirer of your country she often wished that she had, though not to the extent suggested by this invoice because that would mean employing hands in a factory to cope with it.”
    â€œHad she any suggestion to make about how one of her bill-heads could have been abstracted?”
    â€œShe said that nothing could be easier. The customer would merely ask to see a model from the window and while she had her back turned, an invoice could be taken from the desk where there are always several lying ready. She said that none of her customers spend that amount of money even in a year.”
    â€œThe question before us,” said Goron, “is what could have been the object of sending a bogus invoice to England if the hats were not to be supplied.” Vincent pondered. “Two possibilities