Henri de Valfort insisted that he’d accompany me to his brother’s room. “It’s not really necessary, I said, noticing that he had turned pale. Henri shook his head. He looked now more than ever, like an ‘old bachelor’, but if so, neither happy to be old, nor a bachelor. “I, too, have some questions to answer to myself,” he said cryptically, walking away. I tried to stall him, but he was already at the door, calling me. “C’mon, Morsirisse! Let’s not waist anymore time!” Left with no choice, I followed him, and we crossed diagonally the hall, from the library to the staircase. Ahead of me, he started climbing slowly the wide marble steps. He was moving with a certain non-affected nonchalance, one hand gliding on the banister, the other one, still clutching the key, -finally recovered by Mélanie, a moment ago.- As he reached the midpoint of his ascent, he stopped,…show more content… I was already implied in my statement.” “Good. I’m sure you will also admit that this murder is a very clever one. I would even say that, so far, it is a perfect murder!” “No doubt about it.” “Very good. Therefore, such a clever murder must have been planned in details, with great care, and ahead of time…” “Of course! Must you, Morsirisse, go into such trifles…?” “I am merely making the point that, when planning his crime, ‘our’ murderer left nothing to hazard. Everything was decided, and prepared in advance, and he was ready to strike at the first opportunity. And, when I say: ‘he was ready’, I mean that I’m sure he would not have depended on a key that might or might not, be hanging on the kitchen board at the precise minute he would decide to kill. ” “Apparently, so. But, what are you trying to say? Are you implying that he already had a key to my brother’s room? That he didn’t need Mélanie’s key? Is that what you’re saying?” “Yes. And no! Yes, he had already had made a copy of the key, but he still needed Mélanie’s.” “But, why?! Why would he need two keys to open one
