The voyage began as many such voyages do. The air quivered with excitement, adventure, and a sense of mystery as my fellow passengers and I boarded the transatlantic steamship Provence. We enjoyed making each other's acquaintance, and though we were sociable and charming, we kept the safe distance that characterizes those who may never see each other again. Here, on this ship, we had the luxury of being isolated from the world, except for one inescapable link—the wireless telegraph. Its voice followed us around like an ever-present shadow, whispering words of the outside world. I was the recipient of two telegrams. Others, too, received messages from family and friends wishing them bon voyage.
However, on the second day of our voyage, we received a telegram so startling and vicious, it destroyed the peace we had enjoyed up until that moment. It read: Caution! Arsène Lupin is aboard theProvence. First-class cabin, blond hair, wound on right forearm. Traveling alone under the name of R—
At that most crucial moment, a flash of lightning interrupted the transmission, and the rest of the message never reached us. The passengers only knew Lupin was using an alias beginning with the letter R.
That, however, was enough to rouse fear and apprehension among everyone on board the ship. Arsène Lupin! The infamous gentleman burglar's exploits were well reported in newspapers across France and in other European countries.
"Horrible! Arsène Lupin is in our midst!" exclaimed Miss Nelly Underdown, the prettiest woman on the ship and—dare I say—loveliest of all lovely creatures on land.
"They say Lupin is a man of a thousand faces," I said. "He could appear as a chauffeur or a Russian physician, a Spanish bullfighter or an old man. No one can say for certain what Lupin truly looks like. He is a master of disguise."
"You do not put one's mind at ease," lamented Lady Jerland, who was Miss Nelly's traveling companion. "How are we to secure our valuables?"
A group of us had gathered on the rear deck of the ship, reclining comfortably on lounge chairs. The day was bright and warm, with no sign of the storm that had interrupted the notorious telegram.
"How can we protect ourselves from this madman?" cried Miss Nelly.
"I would hardly call Lupin a madman," I said, trying to comfort her and gently placing my hand on her shoulder. She lowered her eyes and blushed.
"Monsieur d'Andrézy," said Miss Nelly, "you are on such intimate terms with the captain. Surely you know something?"
I laughed, delighted by Miss Nelly's confidence in me.
"I assure you, I have no definite knowledge," I replied. "But can't we investigate this matter just as well as Detective Ganimard, the personal enemy of Arsène Lupin?" It was common knowledge that Ganimard had vowed to bring Lupin to justice, even if he had to follow Lupin to the ends of the earth.
"It sounds a bit complicated," said Miss Nelly.
"Lupin's vocation, though unsavory to many, does take a certain amount of skill. Every movement detailed and timed to the second—"
"If I may be so bold as to speak," interrupted Monsieur Rozaine, a young man who rivaled me for the affections of Miss Nelly earlier, "it appears that you admire Lupin, Monsieur Bernard d'Andrézy."
Ignoring his comment, I continued. "Lupin's skill demonstrates not the work of a madman, Miss Nelly, but the art of a clever, organized, and very meticulous person."
"But then who could ever catch such a man?" Miss Nelly sighed, her full lips in a pout.
I took a moment to reflect on the exquisite Miss Nelly, with her golden hair and deep emerald eyes. Her skin was like porcelain, and her body was as perfectly proportioned as that of Venus, the goddess of beauty.
"My dear, all this dreadful talk has left me quite weak," Lady Jerland murmured. "I shall retire to my quarters to lie down before tea."
I waited patiently until Lady Jerland left before going on.
"Although we might not be quite as resourceful as the celebrated Detective Ganimard, we do have some facts to help us determine who Lupin may be."
"Please explain, Monsieur d'Andrézy," pleaded Miss Nelly.
"With pleasure," I said, bowing, and removed a passenger list from my right pocket. Using my left hand to unfold the paper took a few moments, and everyone patiently waited for me to resume.
"First, Lupin is using an alias beginning with R," I reminded them.
"That's a common letter for a surname," argued Rozaine.
"Second, he is traveling alone," I noted.
"So are half the passengers on this ship," Rozaine interjected. Miss Nelly nodded vigorously in agreement, and Rozaine's face lit up.
"Third, he is blond." I smiled at everyone.
"Well?" Rozaine shrugged his shoulders.
"Well, now it is a matter of process of elimination," I said. "Here, on this passenger list, there are only thirteen men with surnames that begin with R, and nine are family men."
"That leaves just four who are traveling alone," calculated Miss Nelly.
"Correct, mademoiselle," I nodded. "Of the four, one is the Marquis de Raverdan—"
"He is the secretary to the American ambassador," interrupted Miss Nelly. "I know him well."
I scrolled down the list. "The second is Major Rawson."
"He's my uncle," someone else called out.
"Monsieur Rivolta is the third," I said.
"That's me," exclaimed a dark Italian with a heavy, black beard.
"You can hardly be called a blond," said Miss Nelly.
"And finally"—I paused before continuing—"Monsieur Rozaine."
All eyes fixed on the young, blond-haired man. He turned red and was rendered speechless.
"Well, Monsieur Rozaine? Have you anything to say?" Miss Nelly demanded of him.
"This is insanity!" Rozaine finally cried. He struggled to his feet. Some of the women recoiled in terror.
"I admit I fit the description of that scoundrel Lupin, but I swear I am not he," Rozaine shouted excitedly.
"Didn't the telegram say something about a wound?" asked Miss Nelly.
Everyone nodded and began murmuring.
"I can prove to you I have no such wound," sputtered Rozaine, rolling up his left shirtsleeve.
Smiling secretly, I remembered the wound was said to be on his right arm, not on his left. I was about to call attention to that fact when a loud scream erupted from the sleeping quarters. Everyone abandoned the deck and rushed to the inner part of the ship.
"Help, help!" Lady Jerland wailed frantically. Her cheeks were smeared with makeup and tears. She was breathing heavily. "They're gone! My jewels! My pearls! They're gone!"
I led the way into Lady Jerland's cabin. Pieces of jewelry still lay on top of her dresser; the thief had taken only the most precious diamonds and pearls and left the rest. Each stolen jewel had been carefully removed from its mounting.
"Yes, Lady Jerland's unblemished pearls were indeed a prize," I whispered to Miss Nelly.
"Who could have done this?" Lady Jerland wept bitterly.
The passengers looked at one another. They had all reached the same conclusion. This was the work of Arsène Lupin.