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Every sentence, every word, told. The prisoner's assurance, already shaken, fell little by little, just like the outer coating of a wall when riddled with bullets. But there is a woman in the case, and it is a woman for whom Monsieur Daburon has feelings. He regrets his involvement in the case:. Left to himself, however, M. Daburon did not experience that intense satisfaction, mixed with vanity, which he ordinarily felt after he had successfully conducted an examination, and had succeeded in getting his prisoner into the same position as Albert.

Something disturbed and shocked him. At the bottom of his heart, he felt ill at ease. He had triumphed; but his victory gave him only uneasiness, pain, and vexation. A reflection so simple that he could hardly understand why it had not occurred to him at first, increased his discontent, and made him angry with himself. I am punished for not having obeyed that inner voice. I ought to have declined to proceed with the investigation.

The Viscount de Commarin, was, all the same, certain to be arrested, imprisoned, examined, confounded, tried, and probably condemned. Then, being in no way connected with the trial, I could have reappeared before Claire. Her grief will be great. As her friend, I could have soothed her, mingled my tears with hers, calmed her regrets. With time, she might have been consoled, and perhaps have forgotten him. She could not have helped feeling grateful to me, and then who knows--? While now, whatever may happen, I shall be an object of loathing to her: she will never be able to endure the sight of me.

In her eyes I shall always be her lover's assassin. I have with my own hands opened an abyss! I have lost her a second time, and by my own fault. He was in despair. He had never so hated Albert,--that wretch, who, stained with a crime, stood in the way of his happiness. Then too he cursed old Tabaret! Alone, he would not have decided so quickly. He would have waited, thought over the matter, matured his decision, and certainly have perceived the inconveniences, which now occurred to him. The old fellow, always carried away like a badly trained bloodhound, and full of stupid enthusiasm, had confused him, and led him to do what he now so much regretted.

It was precisely this unfavorable moment that M. Tabaret chose for reappearing before the magistrate. He had just been informed of the termination of the inquiry; and he arrived, impatient to know what had passed, swelling with curiosity, and full of the sweet hope of hearing of the fulfilment of his predictions.

Old Tabaret, who expected to receive praises by the basketful, was astounded at this tone! It was therefore, with great hesitancy that he offered his further services. I ask pardon: he has of course then confessed everything. He acknowledges that the proofs are decisive: he can not give an account of how he spent his time; but he protests his innocence. Tabaret stood with his mouth wide open, and his eyes staring wildly, and altogether in the most grotesque attitude his astonishment could effect.

He was literally thunderstruck. In spite of his anger, M. Daburon could not help smiling; and even Constant gave a grin, which on his lips was equivalent to a paroxysm of laughter. The idea! It is inconceivable! Not an alibi? We must then be mistaken: he cannot be the criminal. That is certain! It is but too clearly shown that M.

However, if you like, you can ask Constant for his report of the examination, and read it over while I put these papers in order. He sat down in Constant's chair, and, leaning his elbows on the table, thrusting his hands in his hair, he in less than no time read the report through. When he had finished, he arose with pale and distorted features. This man is innocent. Tabaret, however, sees something that changes his opinion:. Read this examination over carefully; there is not a reply but which declares this unfortunate man innocent, not a word but which throws out a ray of light.

And he is still in prison, still in solitary confinement? Ah, wretched Tabaret! Pardon me, sir, if I lack the respect due to you; but you have not grasped my method. It is, however, very simple. Given a crime, with all the circumstances and details, I construct, bit by bit, a plan of accusation, which I do not guarantee until it is entire and perfect. If a man is found to whom this plan applies exactly in every particular the author of the crime is found: otherwise, one has laid hands upon an innocent person. It is not sufficient that such and such particulars seem to point to him; it must be all or nothing.

This is infallible. Now, in this case, how have I reached the culprit? Through proceeding by inference from the known to the unknown. I have examined his work; and I have formed an idea of the worker. Reason and logic lead us to what? To a villain, determined, audacious, and prudent, versed in the business. And do you think that such a man would neglect a precaution that would not be omitted by the stupidest tyro?

It is inconceivable. It's impossible! I am as sure of my system as of a sum that has been proved. The assassin has an alibi. Albert has pleaded none; then he is innocent. Daburon surveyed the detective pityingly, much as he would have looked at a remarkable monomaniac. When the old fellow had finished,--"My worthy M. Tabaret," the magistrate said to him: "you have but one fault.

You err through an excess of subtlety, you accord too freely to others the wonderful sagacity with which you yourself are endowed.

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Our man has failed in prudence, simply because he believed his rank would place him above suspicion. My culprit,--the true one,--he whom we have missed catching, feared everything. Besides, does Albert defend himself? He is overwhelmed because he perceives coincidences so fatal that they appear to condemn him, without a chance of escape. Does he try to excuse himself? He simply replies, 'It is terrible.

I have more than sufficient proofs for that. There are always enough of those against an arrested man. They existed against every innocent man who was ever condemned. Why, I had them in quantities against Kaiser, the poor little tailor, who--" "Well," interrupted the magistrate, hastily, "if it is not he, the most interested one, who committed the crime, who then is it? His father, the Count de Commarin?

Daburon had arranged his papers, and finished his preparations. He took up his hat, and, as he prepared to leave, replied: "You must then see that I am right. Come and see me by-and-by, M. Tabaret, and make haste and get rid of all your foolish ideas. To-morrow we will talk the whole matter over again.

I am rather tired to-night. Tabaret barred his exit. He is innocent, I swear to you. Help me, then, to find the real culprit. Sir, think of your remorse should you cause an--" But the magistrate would not hear more. He pushed old Tabaret quickly aside, and hurried out. The old man now turned to Constant. He wished to convince him. Lost trouble: the tall clerk hastened to put his things away, thinking of his soup, which was getting cold.

So that M. Tabaret soon found himself locked out of the room and alone in the dark passage. All the usual sounds of the Palais had ceased: the place was silent as the tomb. The old detective desperately tore his hair with both hands. It is I, fool that I am, who have infused into the obstinate spirit of this magistrate a conviction that I can no longer destroy.

He is innocent and is yet enduring the most horrible anguish. Suppose he should commit suicide! There have been instances of wretched men, who in despair at being falsely accused have killed themselves in their cells. Poor boy! But I will not abandon him. I have ruined him: I will save him!

I must, I will find the culprit; and he shall pay dearly for my mistake, the scoundrel! This trifling tone in a magistrate, who was accused of being grave even to a fault, troubled the old man. Did not this quizzing hide a determination not to be influenced by anything that he could say? He believed it did; and it was without the least deception that he commenced his pleading. He put the case more calmly this time, but with all the energy of a well-digested conviction.

He had appealed to the heart, he now appealed to reason; but, although doubt is essentially contagious, he neither succeeded in convincing the magistrate, nor in shaking his opinion. His strongest arguments were of no more avail against M. Daburon's absolute conviction than bullets made of bread crumbs would be against a breastplate. And there was nothing very surprising in that. Old Tabaret had on his side only a subtle theory, mere words; M. Daburon possessed palpable testimony, facts. And such was the peculiarity of the case, that all the reasons brought forward by the old man to justify Albert simply reacted against him, and confirmed his guilt.

A repulse at the magistrate's hands had entered too much into M. Tabaret's anticipations for him to appear troubled or discouraged. He declared that, for the present, he would insist no more; he had full confidence in the magistrate's wisdom and impartiality. All he wished was to put him on his guard against the presumptions which he himself unfortunately had taken such pains to inspire.

He was going, he added, to busy himself with obtaining more information. They were only at the beginning of the investigation; and they were still ignorant of very many things, even of Widow Lerouge's past life. More facts might come to light. Who knew what testimony the man with the earrings, who was being pursued by Gevrol, might give? Though in a great rage internally, and longing to insult and chastise he whom he inwardly styled a "fool of a magistrate," old Tabaret forced himself to be humble and polite.

He wished, he said, to keep well posted up in the different phases of the investigation, and to be informed of the result of future interrogations. He ended by asking permission to communicate with Albert, He thought his services deserved this slight favour. He desired an interview of only ten minutes without witnesses. Daburon refused this request.

He declared, that, for the present, the prisoner must continue to remain strictly in solitary confinement. By way of consolation, he added that, in three or four days, he might perhaps be able to reconsider this decision, as the motives which prompted it would then no longer exist. Tabaret; "but I understand it, and submit.

He felt that, besides the great happiness of saving an innocent man, compromised by his imprudence, he would experience unspeakable delight in avenging himself for the magistrate's obstinacy. He takes things quite at his ease, this charming magistrate. But I must find out the real truth of the case between now and then. Abandon all modern conventions of mystery fiction that have been thrust upon contemporary authors by creative writing professors, professional critics, and the like: Avoid shifting points of view, choose 1st, 2nd, or 3rd person point of view, avoid or at least minimize the use of coincidence This is story telling.

Nothing gets in the way. Information dumps, coincidence, omniscient narrator, multiple points of view, they are all here in mass. Pretend you are living in the 's and reading a detective novel for the first time. Nov 16, Little Nell rated it really liked it Shelves: classics , mystery , r-r , four-star-novels , read-again. Reading that made me think, no kidding, but I put it here anyway. Gaboriau wrote a lot, he wrote a lot of books, twelve of them, and a lot of short stories, and some of them were made into films, and I've never heard of any of them, including this one.

But now that I've read this one I would read another of his, if I ever come across one that is. This is how our book begins: On Thursday, the 6th of March, , two days after Shrove Tuesday, five women belonging to the village of La Jonchere presented themselves at the police station at Bougival. They stated that for two days past no one had seen the Widow Lerouge, one of their neighbours, who lived by herself in an isolated cottage. They had several times knocked at the door, but all in vain.

The window-shutters as well as the door were closed; and it was impossible to obtain even a glimpse of the interior. So the women go back to the cottage, and the police go to the cottage, and a locksmith goes to the cottage, and a young boy comes to the cottage with the key.

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He found it in a ditch by the roadside, how it got there you will find out when you read the book. Inside they find the place is a mess, the furniture has been knocked over, the drawers have been broken open, and in the bedroom is the Widow Lerouge laying near the fireplace with her face in the ashes. So now we have to figure out who killed the widow. It not only takes the investigating magistrate, M. Daburon, the chief of detective police Gevrol and his "subordinate," Lecoq, it also takes a certain M.

Tabaret, or Tirauclair, take your pick. Tabaret is an amateur sleuth, who "goes for playing the detective by way of amusement. I really want to give this book five stars because I really enjoyed it, but I don't think I can, here is why. It is that time of the year, the time when I am decorating trees, putting up garland and setting up Christmas villages.

My Christmas houses for these villages have to be at different heights, I don't want streets that just go in a row never changing, so I make hills, some small hills, some big hills, you get the idea, and for my hills I use books. Since I wasn't thinking of what I was reading, but of villages and trees, it never occurred to me that since one of my villages has more buildings this year the platform will also be bigger, and it was all done and everything in place before I realized the cabinet with my already read books was behind the new platform not to be reached until sometime in January.

That means I had to use books I haven't read yet or use some of my son's books. I did both, but it seems a little strange to have Stephen King horror novels as hills in the living room village. Anyway, as I was getting out my books for hills I came across The Lerouge Case which looked familiar, but I didn't know why.

I couldn't remember buying it, I couldn't remember it being given to me, I couldn't even remember putting it on the shelf, so I was intrigued enough to read it. So yesterday when I was finished my last book I started reading, and now comes the reason I don't think I can give it five stars. When I got to about the fourth or fifth chapter I was almost certain that I had read it before, when I was half way, I not only was sure I read it before, but I had a pretty good idea who did the murder or murders however you want to look at it, and long before the end I was sure who did the crime or crimes I suppose, again depending on how you want to look at it.

Oh, and by the end I knew I was right. I think to be a five star book I should have known I already read it long before I was half way through, but then again, I did keep reading, and when I was getting close to the end I couldn't put it down and was awake long after midnight until we finally got the right killer caught.

So it's four stars for now. On to the next book, after I finish the village anyway. Happy reading. Feb 09, Tatiana Pereira rated it really liked it Shelves: classic-mysteries , french-literature. This book was much better than expected. I read the Project Gutenberg public domain edition, so the English translation is a little clunky and the book does feel a bit old and dated at the beginning. It takes some getting used to. However, the last two thirds were just terrific. I figured out the solution well before the fictional detective did it was fairly obvious to a seasoned mystery reader , but that didn't take anything away from the pleasure of reading the story all the way to the end.

D This book was much better than expected. Nov 22, Amaha rated it it was amazing. It's only kind of a mystery, like any good French novel of its era, it's mostly about upper class problems with money and marrying well. I read this book to fulfill the goal read a book about an amateur detective.

It was a little hard to keep the characters straight at times, but it did have a fairly interesting plot. I wouldn't mind trying another that the author wrote. Entertaining who-dunnit. I enjoyed it immensely. Feb 01, Yessie DM rated it really liked it. It's the first book that I read by Gaboriau and I have enjoyed this novel a lot! One of the earliest novels to develop deductive forensics. However, there is minimal content of this nature compare to plot narrative, characterisation and commentary. It is because of this that many people tend to ignore Gaboriau as a precursor to Conan Doyle and Poe.

His investigator hero is a retired male who uses deduction with a lot of intuition and iamagination thrown in; he doesn't always get it right A good read and very clever writing. Le Coq who later features as a lead investigator in One of the earliest novels to develop deductive forensics. Le Coq who later features as a lead investigator in a number of Gaboriau's novels is briefly mentioned but has no real input in this work.

He is a junior detective and is mentioned briefly at the beginning of the book to introduce the amateur detective Tabaret. Apparently in later books Tabaret is a mentor and teacher to Lecoq. But already we see some some of the characteristics made famous in the Holmes novels. Tabaret is an amateur, not part of the regular police force.

L'Affaire Lerouge (French Edition)

The book starts of with the murder of the widow Lerouge. She lived by herself in a small village outside Paris and her origins are somewhat mysterious. Early on Tabaret is introduced and he quickly finds a large number of clues missed by the police and magistrates. The magistrate is impressed even if Gevrol is not and Tabaret is asked to help the officials in solving the case. Two things make the make the book such enjoyable. He pokes fun at the mannerisms and affectations of all the characters.

The other reason is that the plot goes of in unexpected directions in each chapter. You believe you know what the general line of the book will be and in the next chapter things are turned on their heads. Characters you think are guilty are seen to be innocent. A person thought to be upright has a dark secret. There is a case of two half brothers switched at birth, that is not what it seems at first.

ISBN 13: 9781530523351

There are strange and somewhat implausible connections between characters that unexpected coincidences. Right up to the final chapters you are not quite sure how it will end.

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  • A fun book to read. However there are so many implausible coincidences that the book may not appeal to people expecting a more traditional mystery. Je recommande fortement la lecture de 'L'affaire Lerouge'.

    L'affaire Lerouge (Book, ) []

    Jul 22, Dagny rated it really liked it Shelves: 19th-century , french. The Lerouge Case is the first published Lecoq story and Lecoq is learning about crime detection from Tabaret. Monsieur Lecoq was published three years later and recounts Lecoq's first case. The Widow Lerouge has been missing. When her neighbours request the assistance of the local gendarmes, her murdered body is found. The scene, on the surface, indicates a robbery, but the spoils have been found abandoned nearby.

    Little is known of her past; it must be unravelled in order to find a motive for th The Lerouge Case is the first published Lecoq story and Lecoq is learning about crime detection from Tabaret. Little is known of her past; it must be unravelled in order to find a motive for this assassination of an elderly woman. A pleasant surprise What an unexpected pleasure.

    L'Affaire Lerouge d'Emile Gaboriau

    While fairly verbose, the author spends a fair amount of time inside the character's heads An old fashioned murder mystery with twists. Also interesting discussion of justice system of old, yet relevant today. Given the historical time period, much detail and somewhat stock characters, I found this book intriguing Not your typical murder mystery. May 18, unevendays rated it really liked it Shelves: crime-detective-fiction , historical , classics.

    The wonderful Project Gutenberg provided me with this to read, and as a fan of the detective fiction genre, particularly Sherlock Holmes, Gaston Leroux and Edgar Allen Poe, I thought I really should add this to my reading list.