Hertzfeld, who was a prominent figure in the theatre and café life of Paris, and who was probably giving a big déjeuner.
Léontine was no doubt on her way to this function, and very possibly Chu-Chu's associate was also an invited guest. Chu-Chu, in his character of Monsieur de Maxeville, had very likely received an invitation, as I had several times seen him with Von Hertzfeld and his little group of intimates, for outside of Ivan's mob Baron Rosenthal and I were the only ones who knew that Monsieur de Maxeville was other than a clubman of sufficient fortune, an excellent companion and a devotee of outdoor sports.
But Chu-Chu, knowing that I might even at that moment be hot on his trail, had not cared to run the risk of sticking his head above the surface. On the other hand, he must have some definite reason for wishing to be on the Hertzfeld premises during the luncheon party. Either there was some work in hand another string of pearls perhaps, for some of the women guests would be sure to be decked out in wonders—or else he might want to have a look at the house and its surroundings. He would be kept waiting until Léontine's return, and as a brave garçon of a taxi driver it is not probable that in an establishment as lavish as Hertzfeld's he would be neglected by the butler's department. Hertzfeld was a man who handed out hundred-franc notes as a tip for opening the door of his limousine.
There was no room for any doubt. Léontine was bound for Baron von Hertzfeld's, and the taxi
