"When the jeweler walked back into the small roadside inn, his eyes swept the room carefully. But there was nothing obviously wrong, at least, not if you didn't know what to look for.
Caderousse, the innkeeper, still clutched the gold coins and paper money in his hands like they might vanish if he let go. His wife, La Carconte, plastered on her sweetest fake smile as their guest returned.
'Well, well,' the jeweler said with a knowing look, 'I see you've been double-checking your payment while I was gone. Worried I short-changed you?'
'Oh no, nothing like that!' Caderousse said quickly. 'It's just... this whole thing feels surreal, you know? We came into this money so unexpectedly that we can barely believe it's real. We have to keep looking at it to convince ourselves we're not dreaming.'
The jeweler smiled slightly. 'Do you have any other guests staying here tonight?'
'Just us,' Caderousse replied. 'Honestly, we don't really run a proper inn. We're so close to town that nobody ever stops here for the night.'
'Then I'm afraid I'm imposing on you terribly.'
'Not at all!' La Carconte said, her voice dripping with sudden hospitality. 'We're happy to have you!'
'But where will I sleep?'
'In the room upstairs.'
'Isn't that your bedroom?'
'Don't worry about it. We have another bed in the next room.'
Caderousse shot his wife a shocked look, clearly not expecting this sudden generosity.
The jeweler stood by the fire, humming to himself as he warmed up. La Carconte had lit it to dry his rain-soaked clothes. Once she finished playing hostess to the fire, she set about preparing his dinner, laying out a cloth at the end of the table and setting out the leftovers from their own meal, plus a few fresh eggs.
Meanwhile, Caderousse had carefully locked away his treasure. The paper money went back in his wallet, the gold coins in their bag, and everything secured in the cupboard. Then he started pacing the room, his mood dark and troubled. Every so often, he'd glance at the jeweler, who just stood there steaming by the fire, shifting occasionally to dry different parts of his clothes.
'There,' La Carconte announced, placing a bottle of wine on the table. 'Dinner's ready whenever you are.'
'Aren't you eating?' the jeweler asked.
'I'm not hungry,' Caderousse muttered.
'We ate so late today,' his wife added quickly.
'So I'm eating alone then?'
'Oh, we'll keep you company,' La Carconte said with eager attentiveness, completely unlike her usual cold indifference to guests.
Throughout the meal, Caderousse kept shooting sharp, searching looks at his wife, quick as lightning strikes. Outside, the storm raged on.
'Listen to that!' La Carconte said. 'You were smart to come back.'
'Still,' the jeweler replied, 'if the storm dies down by the time I finish eating, I'll try to leave again.'
'It's the mistral wind,' Caderousse said heavily. 'It'll blow until tomorrow morning for sure.' He sighed deeply.
'Well,' the jeweler said as he sat down, 'all I can say is, too bad for anyone caught outside in this.'
'Yes,' La Carconte agreed. 'They're in for a miserable night.'
As the jeweler ate, the woman who was usually so irritable and unfriendly transformed into the most attentive host imaginable. If the poor man had known her before, this sudden change would have raised every red flag. But he didn't know her, so he suspected nothing.
Caderousse continued pacing in gloomy silence, carefully avoiding looking at his guest. But as soon as the stranger finished his meal, the agitated innkeeper rushed to the door and threw it open.
'I think the storm's over,' he said.
As if the universe itself wanted to prove him wrong, a massive thunderclap shook the entire building. A sudden gust of wind and rain blew out the lamp in his hand. Trembling, Caderousse quickly shut the door and returned inside while La Carconte lit a candle from the dying embers in the fireplace.
'You must be exhausted,' she said to the jeweler. 'I've put fresh sheets on your bed. Go up whenever you're ready.'
The jeweler, whose name was Joannes, waited a bit to see if the storm would calm down. But within minutes, it became clear that the rain and thunder were only getting worse. Accepting his fate, he wished his hosts goodnight and headed upstairs.
I heard his footsteps pass directly over my head, the floorboards creaking under his weight. La Carconte's eyes tracked him as he climbed the stairs, while Caderousse deliberately turned away, as if he couldn't bear to watch.
At the time, none of this seemed particularly sinister to me. Sure, the story about the diamond sounded a bit far-fetched, but everything else seemed normal enough. I was exhausted from traveling and planned to leave as soon as the storm passed, so I decided to get some sleep. The most update n0vels are published on 𝗇𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗅•𝖿𝗂𝗋𝖾•𝗇𝖾𝗍
From my hiding spot, I could hear every movement the jeweler made above me. He arranged things as best he could for the night, then collapsed onto the bed. I heard it creak and groan under his weight. My eyelids grew heavy, and since nothing seemed wrong, I didn't fight the sleep that washed over me.
Before drifting off, I glanced one more time into the kitchen. Caderousse sat at the long wooden table on one of those low stools country folk use instead of chairs. His back was to me, head buried in his hands, so I couldn't see his expression.
La Carconte stared at him for a long moment, then shrugged and sat down directly across from him. Just then, the dying fire flared up as a piece of wood caught flame, casting bright light across the room. She kept her eyes fixed on her husband, but when he didn't move, she reached out with her bony hand and touched his forehead.
Caderousse shuddered. Her lips seemed to move, she was talking, but either she spoke too quietly or I was too drowsy to hear. Confused images and sounds floated through my mind as I fell into a deep, heavy sleep.
I don't know how long I was unconscious when a gunshot jolted me awake, followed by a terrible scream.
Weak, stumbling footsteps echoed across the room above me. Then something heavy fell onto the staircase with a sickening thud. I hadn't fully regained consciousness when I heard more groans mixed with strangled cries, the sounds of people fighting to the death. One final, prolonged scream that ended in a series of groans shocked me fully awake.
I raised myself up on one arm and looked around, but everything was pitch black. Then I realized something was dripping onto my forehead from the ceiling above. When I touched my forehead, my hand came away wet and sticky.
The terrible noises stopped. Perfect silence followed, except for footsteps walking around in the room above. The stairs creaked as someone descended. They approached the fire and lit a candle.
It was Caderousse. His face was deathly pale, and his shirt was covered in blood.
With the lit candle, he hurried back upstairs. A moment later, he came down again holding a small leather case. He opened it to make sure the diamond was inside, then seemed to debate which pocket to put it in. Finally, as if neither pocket seemed safe enough, he wrapped it in his red handkerchief and tied it around his head. Next, he grabbed the paper money and gold from the cupboard, stuffed them in his pockets, quickly bundled up some clothes, and disappeared into the stormy night.
Everything suddenly became clear. I blamed myself for what had happened, as if I'd committed the crime myself. I thought I could still hear faint moans, and imagined the jeweler might still be alive. I had to help him, to make up for not preventing this murder, even if I hadn't caused it.
I forced my way out of the cramped hiding spot and into the house. Grabbing the lit candle, I rushed toward the stairs. About halfway up, a body lay sprawled across the steps."