i8 
LAND & WATER 
December 21, 191C) 
The Golden Triangle 
By Maurice Leblanc 
1 Translated by Alexander Teixcira dc Mattos] 
Synopsis : Caplain Patrice Belval, a woumkd French 
officer, prevents in a Paris street the abduction of a "upe 
who is kno-ion to her patients as " Little Mother Coralic." 
Peelint^ that the fact of haviuii been maimciT in the scnnce 
oj his country is an honour rather than a disability. Belval 
declares his love to Coral ie only to be told by her that she 
is already married, and that he must make no further effort 
even to retain her friendship —the suggests that there might 
be danger for him in a friendship with herself. 1 hat 
night, after Coralic has left him, Belval has sent to him 
anonymously a box containing a large rusty key, and later 
he sees in the sky a rain of sparks, ivhich had been mentioned 
by Coralie's would-be abductors as a signal possessing 
mysterious significance. By means of the rusty key, Belval 
gains access to a house, in which he finds five men torturing 
another man, Essares, obviously with a view to extracting 
information from him. Just as Belval is about to rescue 
the victim he sees that Coralic, horror stricken, is also watch- 
ing the torturers at their work. Essares manages to get hold 
of a revolver, with which he shoots Colonel Fakhi, one of the 
five men, dead. He buys off his other four assailants for a mil- 
lion francs apiece, with which they leave the house. Belval, 
still concealed watching, waits for a cue from Coralic as to 
what to do in regard to Essares, who, he has learned by now, 
is a great financier in possession of some important secret, 
and is also Coralie's husband. From an altercation between 
Essards and Coralie, Belval learns that Essa) es has betrayed 
atatc secrets to the enemies of his country, and then has 
attempted to betray his associates in treachery. Belval 
returns home to think out the best icay of helping Coralie, 
who obviously hates her traitor husband, when he is rung 
up on the telephone and hears an agitated voice inquiring 
whether he received the rusty key and a letter. The voice 
then mentions in incoherent fashion an amcthysl pendant. 
TOO 
yes, 
CHAPTER VI {continued) 
i 00 late! . . . Patrice . . . is that you ? 
. Listen, the amethyst pendant . . . 
I liave it on me . . . Ihv. pendant 
. Ah, it's too late! . . . I should so 
much have hked to . . Patrice . . . Coralie . . ." 
Then again a loud cry, a heart-rending cry, and confused 
sounds j,'roNving more distant, in which he seemed to dis- 
tinguish : 
■'Help' . . . Help! . . ." 
These jgrevv fainter and fainter. Silence followed. And 
suddenly there was 'a little cUck. The murderer had hung 
up the receiver. 
• All this had not taken twenty seconds. But, when Patrice 
wanted to replace the telephone, his fingers were gripping it 
so hard that it needed an effort to relax them. 
He stood utterly dujnbfoundcd. His eyes had fastened on 
a large clock which he saw, through the window, on one of the 
buildings in the yard, marking nineteen minutes past seven ; 
and he mechanically repeated these figures, attributing a 
documentary value to them. Then he asked himself— so un- 
real did the scene appear to him— if all this was true and if 
the crime had not been perpetrated within himself, in tiic 
depths of his aching heart. But the shouting still echoed in 
his ears ; and suddenly he took up the receiver again, like one 
clinging desperately to some undefined hope : 
" Hullo ! " he cried. " E.xchange ! . . . Who was it 
Are you there ? Did you 
Are you there ? . . . Are you 
rang me up just now? 
hear the cries ? . . . 
there? ..." 
There was no reply. He lost his temper, insulted the ex- 
change, left the linen-closet, met Ya-Bon and pushed him 
about : 
" Get out of this ! It's your fault. Of course you ought to 
have stayed and looked alter Coralie. Be off there now and 
hold yourself at my disposal. I'm going to inform tiic policr. 
If you hadn't prevented mc, it would have been done long 
ago and we shouldn't be in this predicament. Off you 
go ! " 
He held him back : 
" >!o. don't stir. Your plan's ridiculous. Stay here. 
Oh, not there in my pocket ! You're too impetuous tor me, 
my lad ! " 
He drove him out and returned to the linen-closet, striding 
i»p and down and betraying his excitement in irritable ges- 
tures and angry words. Nevertheless, in the midst of liis 
confusion, one idea gradually came to light, which was that, 
after all, lie had no proof that the crime which he suspected 
had happened at the house in the Rue Kaynouard. He 
must not allow himself to be obsessed by the facts that 
lingered in his memory to the point of always seeing the same 
vision in the same tragic setting. No doubt the drama was 
being continued, as he had felt that it would be, but perhaps 
elsewhere and far awav from Corahc. 
And this first thought led to another : why not investigate 
matters at once ? 
" Yes, why not ? " he asked himself. " Before bothering 
the ixjlice, discovering the number of the person who rang 
mc u]> and thus working back to the start, a process whicli 
it will be time enough to employ later, why shouldn't I 
tekphone to the Rue Kaynouard at once, on any pretext 
and in anybody's name ? I shall then have a chance of know- 
ing what to tliink . . ." 
Patrice felt that this measure did not amount to much. 
Suppose that no one answered, would that prove that the 
murder had been committed in the house, or merely that no 
one was yet about ? Nevertheless, the need to do some- 
thing decided him. He looked out Essares Bey's number in 
the telephone-directory and resolutely rang up the ex- 
change. 
The strain of waiting was almost more than he could bear. 
And then he was conscious of a thrill which vibrated through 
him from head to loot. He was connected ; and some one ut 
the other i-nd was answering the call. 
" Hullo ! " he said. 
" Hullo ! " said a voice. " Wlio are vou ? " 
It was the voice of Essares Bey. 
Although this was only natural, since at that moment 
Essares nmst be getting his papers ready and preiiaring his 
flight, Patrice was so much taken aback that he did not 
know what to say and spoke the first words that came into 
his head : 
" Is that Essares Bey ? " 
" Yes. Who are you ? " 
"I'm one of the wounded at the hospital, now under 
treatment at the home . . ." 
" Captain Belval, perhaps ? 
Patrice was absolutely amazed. So Coralie's husband 
knew him by name ? He stammered : 
" Yes . . . Captain Belval." 
" What a lucky thing! " cried Essares Bey, in a tone of 
delight. ' " I rang you up a moment ago, at the home, Captain 
Belval, to ask . . ." 
" Oh, it was you ! " interrupted Patrice, whose astonishment 
knew no bounds. 
" Yes, I wanted to know at what time I could speak to 
Captain Belval in order to thank him." 
" It was yon ! ... It was von ! . . ." Patrice 
repeated, more and more thunderstruck. 
Essares intonation denoted a certain surjirise. 
" Yes, wasn't it a curious coincidence ? " he said. " Un- 
fortunately, 1 was cut off, or rather my call was interrupted 
by somebody else." 
" Then you heard ? " 
. " What, Captain Belval ? " 
" Cries." 
" Cries ? " 
" At least so it seemed to me ; but the connection was very 
indistinct." 
" All that I heard was somebody asking for you, somebody 
who was in a great hurry; and, as I was not, I hung up the 
telephone and postponed the pleasure of thanking you." 
1; Of thanking me ? " 
" Yes, I have heard how my wife was assaulted last night 
and how you came to her rescue. And 1 am anxious to see you 
and exj>ross my gratitude. Shall we make an nppriintment ? 
Could, we meet at the hospital, at three o'elock this 
afternoon ? " 
Patrice made no reply. The audacity of this man, threaten- 
ed with arrest and preparing for iliglit, baffled him. At the 
(ConthmeU un pa^e 30) 
