18 
LAND & WATER 
January iS, 1917 
The Golden Triangle 
By Maurice Leblanc 
[Translated by Alexander Teixeira dc MattosI 
Synopsis; Captain Patrice Bdval, a wounded French 
officer, prevents in a Paris street the abduction of a nurse 
who is known to her patients as " Little Mother Coralie." 
Bclval declares his love to Coralie only to he told by her 
that she is already married, and that he must make no further 
c§ort to retain her friendship. Belval has sent to him anony- 
mously a box containing a rusty key, by means of which 
he gains access to a house, in which he finds five men torturing 
another man, Essares, who turns out to be Coralie' s husband, 
Essares shoots one man, Fakhi, and buys off his other four 
assailants for a million francs a piece, with zt'hich they 
leave the house. The next day Belval, following Coralie 
to her house, finds that Essares, who had contemplated 
flight from Paris, has been brutally murdered. An 
examining magistrate explains to Belval that Essares 
was prime mover in a plot for exporting gold from France. 
In order to recover some 300 million francs which Essares 
had concealed, the authorities consider it necessary 
to hush up the circumstances of Uic financier's death. 
The only possible clue to the whereabouts of the gold 
is a paper found in Essares dead hand, bearing the words, 
"Golden Triangle." Ya-Bon, Belval' s Senegalese servant, 
promises to call in Arsene Lupin to unravel the mystery, 
and Belval, with seven wounded and convalescent soldiers. 
takes up residence in Essares' house to protect Coralie from 
a mysterious threatened vengeance on her. Belval ascertains 
that Simeon, Essares attendant, has mysteriously befriended 
both himself and Coralie, and also obtains evidence that 
twenty years before, Essares had been responsible for the 
murder of Coralie's mother and his{Belval's) father and that 
an unknown friend had tried to protect Coralie and himself 
T 
CHAPTER X {continued) 
iHEN, Patrice, Coralie said, you no longer believe 
he is dead, this unknown friend, or that you heard 
his dying cries ? " 
I cannot sa\'," Belval answered, " Simeon was 
not necessarily acting alone. He may have had a confidant, 
an assistant in the work which he undertook. Perhaps 
it was this other man who died at nineteen minutes 
past seven. I cannot say. Everything that happened 
on that ill-fated morning remains involved in the deepest 
mystery. The only conviction that we are able to hold 
is that for twenty years Simeon Diodokis has worked 
unobtrusively and patiently on our behalf, doing his utmost 
to defeat the murderer, and that Simeon Diodokis is alive. 
Alive, but mad ! " Patrice added. " So that we can neither 
thank him nor question him about the grim story which he 
knows or about the dangers that threaten you." 
« * * * * 
Patrice resolved once more to make the attempt, though 
he felt sure of a fresh disappointment. Simeon had a bed- 
room next to that occupied by two of the wounded soldiers 
in the wing which formerly contained the servants' quarters. 
Here Patrice found him. 
He was sitting half-asleep in a chair turned towards the 
garden. His pipe was in his mouth ; he had allowed it to 
go out. The room was small, sparsely furnished, but clean 
and light. Hidden from view, the best part of the old man's 
life was spent here. M. Masseron had often visited the room, 
in Simeon's absence ; and so had Patrice, each from his own 
point of view. 
The only discovery worthy of note consisted of a crude 
diagram iii pencil, on the white wall-paper behind a chest of 
drawers : three lines intersecting to form a large equilateral 
triangle. In the middle of this geometrical figure were three 
words clumsily inscribed in adhesive gold-leaf : 
The GoldeS Triangle. 
There was nothing more, not another clue of any kind, to 
further M. Masseron's search. 
Patrice walked straight up to the old man and tapped him 
on the shoulder : 
"Simeon ! " he said. 
The other lifted his yellow spectacles to him; and Patrice 
felt a sudden wish to snatch away this glass obstacle which 
concealed the old fellow's eyes and prevented him from 
looking into his soul and his distant memories. Simeon 
began to laugh foolishly. 
" So this," thought Patrice, " is my friend and my father's 
friend. He loved my father, respected his wishes, was faith- 
ful to his memory, raised a tomb to him, prayed for him, and 
swore to avenge him. And now his mind has gone." 
Patrice felt that speech was useless. But, though the sound 
of his voice roused no echo in that wandering brain, it was 
possible that the eyes were susceptible to a reminder. He 
wrote on a clean sheet of paper the words that Simeon had 
gazed upon so often : 
P.\TRicE .\ND Coralie. 14 April 1895. 
The old man looked, shook his head and repeated his 
melancholy, foolish chuckle. 
The officer added a new line : 
Armand Belv.\l 
The old man displayed the same torpor. Patrice con- 
tinued the test. He wrote down the names of Essares Bey 
and Colonel Fakhi. He drew a triangle. The old ma n failed 
to understand and went on chuckling. 
But suddenly his laughter lost iomc of its childishness. 
Patrice had written the name of Bournef, the accomplice ; 
and this time the old secretary appeared to be stirred by a 
recollection. He tried to get up, fell back in his chair, then 
rose to his feet again and took his hat from a peg on the wall. 
Pie left his room and, followed by Patrice, marched out of 
the house and turned to the left, in the direction of Auteuil. 
He moved like a man in a trance who is hypnotised into 
walking without knowing where he is going. He led the way 
along the Rue de Bou ,'ainvilliers, crossed the Seine and turned 
down the Ouai de Crenelle with an unhesitating step. Then 
when he reached the boulevard, he stopped, putting out his 
arm, made a sign to Patrice to do likewise. A kiosk hid them 
from view. He put his head round it. Patrice followed his 
example. 
Opposite, at the corner of the boulevard and side-street, 
was a cafe, witii a portion of the pavement in front of it 
marked out by dwarf shrubs in tubs. Behind these tubs 
four men sat drinking. Three oi them had their backs turned 
to Patrice. He saw the only one that faced him ; and he at 
once recognised Bournef. 
By this time Simeon was some distance away, like a man 
whose part is played and who leaves it to others to complete 
the work. Patrice looked round, caught sight of a post- 
office and went in briskly. He knew that M. Masseron was 
at the Rue Raynouard. He telephoned and told him where 
Bournef was. M. Masseron replied that he would come at 
once. 
Since the murder of Essares Bey, M. Masseron's enquiry 
had made no progress in so far as Colonel Fakhi's four accom- 
plices were concerned. True, they discovered the man 
Gregoire's sanctuary and the bedrooms with the wall-cup- 
boards ; but the whole place was enipty. The accomplices 
had disappeared. 
" Old Simeon," said Patrice to himself, " was acquainted 
with their habits. • He must have known that they were 
accustomed to meet at this cafe on a certain day of the week, 
at a fixed hour, and he suddenly remembered it all at the sight 
of Bournef's name." 
.\ few minutes later, M. Masseron alighted from his car 
with his men. The business did not take long. The open 
front of the cafe was surrounded. The accomphces offered 
no resistance. M. Masseron sent three of them under a strong 
guard to the Depot and hustled Bournef into a private room. 
" Come along," he said to Patrice. " We'll question 
him." 
" Mmc. Essares is alone at the house," Patrice objected. 
" Alone ? No. There arc all your soldier-men." 
" Yes, but I would rather go back, if you don't mind. 
It's the first time that I have left her and I'm justified in 
feeling anxious." 
" It's only a matter of a few minutes," M. Masseron in- 
sisted. " One should always take advantage of the fluster 
caused by the arrest." 
Patrice followed him, but they soon saw that Bournef was 
not one of those men who are easily put out. He simply 
shrugged his shoulders at their threats. 
'' It's no use, sir," he said, " to try and frighten me. I 
{Continued on -bage 20) 
