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diff --git a/1832-h/1832-h.htm b/1832-h/1832-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..9f16d3e --- /dev/null +++ b/1832-h/1832-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,5901 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + The Case of the Lamp That Went Out, by Grace Isabel Colbron + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Lamp That Went Out, by Augusta Groner + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Lamp That Went Out + +Author: Augusta Groner + +Translator: Grace Isabel Colbron + +Release Date: November 17, 2008 [EBook #1832] +Last Updated: October 14, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAMP THAT WENT OUT *** + + + + +Produced by An Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteer, and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE CASE OF THE LAMP THAT WENT OUT + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Augusta Groner + </h2> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h3> + Translated by Grace Isabel Colbron + </h3> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Contents + </h2> + <p> + <a href="#link2H_INTR"> INTRODUCTION TO JOE MULLER </a><br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0002"> <b>THE CASE OF THE LAMP THAT WENT OUT</b> </a><br /><br /> + </p> + <table summary="" style="margin-right: auto; margin-left: auto"> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I. </a> + </td> + <td> + THE DISCOVERY + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0002"> CHAPTER II. </a> + </td> + <td> + THE BROKEN WILLOW TWIG + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III. </a> + </td> + <td> + THE EVENING PAPER + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV. </a> + </td> + <td> + SPEAK WELL OF THE DEAD + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V. </a> + </td> + <td> + BY A THREAD + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0006"> CHAPTER VI. </a> + </td> + <td> + ALMOST CONVICTED + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII. </a> + </td> + <td> + THE FACE AT THE GATE + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII. </a> + </td> + <td> + JOHANN KNOLL REMEMBERS SOMETHING ELSE + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX. </a> + </td> + <td> + THE ELECTRICIAN + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0010"> CHAPTER X. </a> + </td> + <td> + MULLER RETURNS TO THE THORNE MANSION + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI. </a> + </td> + <td> + IN THE POLICE COURT + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII. </a> + </td> + <td> + ON THE LIDO + </td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td> + </td> + </tr> + </table> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_INTR" id="link2H_INTR"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <h2> + INTRODUCTION TO JOE MULLER + </h2> + <p> + Joseph Muller, Secret Service detective of the Imperial Austrian police, + is one of the great experts in his profession. In personality he differs + greatly from other famous detectives. He has neither the impressive + authority of Sherlock Holmes, nor the keen brilliancy of Monsieur Lecoq. + Muller is a small, slight, plain-looking man, of indefinite age, and of + much humbleness of mien. A naturally retiring, modest disposition, and two + external causes are the reasons for Muller’s humbleness of manner, which + is his chief characteristic. One cause is the fact that in early youth a + miscarriage of justice gave him several years in prison, an experience + which cast a stigma on his name and which made it impossible for him, for + many years after, to obtain honest employment. But the world is richer, + and safer, by Muller’s early misfortune. For it was this experience which + threw him back on his own peculiar talents for a livelihood, and drove him + into the police force. Had he been able to enter any other profession, his + genius might have been stunted to a mere pastime, instead of being, as + now, utilised for the public good. + </p> + <p> + Then, the red tape and bureaucratic etiquette which attaches to every + governmental department, puts the secret service men of the Imperial + police on a par with the lower ranks of the subordinates. Muller’s + official rank is scarcely much higher than that of a policeman, although + kings and councillors consult him and the Police Department realises to + the full what a treasure it has in him. But official red tape, and his + early misfortune... prevent the giving of any higher official standing to + even such a genius. Born and bred to such conditions, Muller understands + them, and his natural modesty of disposition asks for no outward honours, + asks for nothing but an income sufficient for his simple needs, and for + aid and opportunity to occupy himself in the way he most enjoys. + </p> + <p> + Joseph Muller’s character is a strange mixture. The kindest-hearted man in + the world, he is a human bloodhound when once the lure of the trail has + caught him. He scarcely eats or sleeps when the chase is on, he does not + seem to know human weakness nor fatigue, in spite of his frail body. Once + put on a case his mind delves and delves until it finds a clue, then + something awakes within him, a spirit akin to that which holds the + bloodhound nose to trail, and he will accomplish the apparently + impossible, he will track down his victim when the entire machinery of a + great police department seems helpless to discover anything. The high + chiefs and commissioners grant a condescending permission when Muller + asks, “May I do this? ... or may I handle this case this way?” both + parties knowing all the while that it is a farce, and that the department + waits helpless until this humble little man saves its honour by solving + some problem before which its intricate machinery has stood dazed and + puzzled. + </p> + <p> + This call of the trail is something that is stronger than anything else in + Muller’s mentality, and now and then it brings him into conflict with the + department,... or with his own better nature. Sometimes his unerring + instinct discovers secrets in high places, secrets which the Police + Department is bidden to hush up and leave untouched. Muller is then taken + off the case, and left idle for a while if he persists in his opinion as + to the true facts. And at other times, Muller’s own warm heart gets him + into trouble. He will track down his victim, driven by the power in his + soul which is stronger than all volition; but when he has this victim in + the net, he will sometimes discover him to be a much finer, better man + than the other individual, whose wrong at this particular criminal’s hand + set in motion the machinery of justice. Several times that has happened to + Muller, and each time his heart got the better of his professional + instincts, of his practical common-sense, too, perhaps,... at least as far + as his own advancement was concerned, and he warned the victim, defeating + his own work. This peculiarity of Muller’s character caused his undoing at + last, his official undoing that is, and compelled his retirement from the + force. But his advice is often sought unofficially by the Department, and + to those who know, Muller’s hand can be seen in the unravelling of many a + famous case. + </p> + <p> + The following stories are but a few of the many interesting cases that + have come within the experience of this great detective. But they give a + fair portrayal of Muller’s peculiar method of working, his looking on + himself as merely an humble member of the Department, and the comedy of + his acting under “official orders” when the Department is in reality + following out his directions. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE CASE OF THE LAMP THAT WENT OUT + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I. THE DISCOVERY + </h2> + <p> + The radiance of a clear September morning lay over Vienna. The air was so + pure that the sky shone in brightest azure even where the city’s buildings + clustered thickest. On the outskirts of the town the rays of the awakening + sun danced in crystalline ether and struck answering gleams from the dew + on grass and shrub in the myriad gardens of the suburban streets. + </p> + <p> + It was still very early. The old-fashioned steeple clock on the church of + the Holy Virgin in Hietzing had boomed out six slow strokes but a short + time back. Anna, the pretty blonde girl who carried out the milk for the + dwellers in several streets of this aristocratic residential suburb, was + just coming around the corner of the main street into a quiet lane. This + lane could hardly be dignified by the name of street as yet, it was so + very quiet. It had been opened and named scarcely a year back and it was + bordered mostly by open gardens or fenced-in building lots. There were + four houses in this street, two by two opposite each other, and another, + an old-fashioned manor house, lying almost hidden in its great garden. But + the quiet street could not presume to ownership of this last house, for + the front of it opened on a parallel street, which gave it its number. + Only the garden had a gate as outlet onto our quiet lane. + </p> + <p> + Anna stopped in front of this gate and pulled the bell. She had to wait + for some little time until the gardener’s wife, who acted as janitress, + could open the door. But Anna was not impatient, for she knew that it was + quite a distance from the gardener’s house in the centre of the great + stretch of park to the little gate where she waited. In a few moments, + however, the door was opened and a pleasant-faced woman exchanged a + friendly greeting with the girl and took the cans from her. + </p> + <p> + Anna hastened onward with her usual energetic step. The four houses in + that street were already served and she was now bound for the homes of + customers several squares away. Then her step slowed just a bit. She was a + quiet, thoughtful girl and the lovely peace of this bright morning sank + into her heart and made her rejoice in its beauty. All around her the + foliage was turning gently to its autumn glory of colouring and the + dewdrops on the rich-hued leaves sparkled with an unusual radiance. A + thrush looked down at her from a bough and began its morning song. Anna + smiled up at the little bird and began herself to sing a merry tune. + </p> + <p> + But suddenly her voice died away, the colour faded from her flushed + cheeks, her eyes opened wide and she stood as if riveted to the ground. + With a deep breath as of unconscious terror she let the burden of the milk + cans drop gently from her shoulder to the ground. In following the bird’s + flight her eyes had wandered to the side of the street, to the edge of one + of the vacant lots, there where a shallow ditch separated it from the + roadway. An elder-tree, the great size of which attested its age, hung its + berry-laden branches over the ditch. And in front of this tree the bird + had stopped suddenly, then fluttered off with the quick movement of the + wild creature surprised by fright. What the bird had seen was the same + vision that halted the song on Anna’s lips and arrested her foot. It was + the body of a man—a young and well-dressed man, who lay there with + his face turned toward the street. And his face was the white frozen face + of a corpse. + </p> + <p> + Anna stood still, looking down at him for a few moments, in wide-eyed + terror: then she walked on slowly as if trying to pull herself together + again. A few steps and then she turned and broke into a run. When she + reached the end of the street, breathless from haste and excitement, she + found herself in one of the main arteries of traffic of the suburb, but + owing to the early hour this street was almost as quiet as the lane she + had just left. Finally the frightened girl’s eyes caught sight of the + figure of a policeman coming around the next corner. She flew to meet him + and recognised him as the officer of that beat. + </p> + <p> + “Why, what is the matter?” he asked. “Why are you so excited?” + </p> + <p> + “Down there—in the lane, there’s a dead man,” answered the girl, gasping + for breath. + </p> + <p> + “A dead man?” repeated the policeman gravely, looking at the girl. “Are + you sure he’s dead?” + </p> + <p> + Anna nodded. “His eyes are all glassy and I saw blood on his back.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you’re evidently very much frightened, and I suppose you don’t want + to go down there again. I’ll look into the matter, if you will go to the + police station and make the announcement. Will you do it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, then, that will gain time for us. Good-bye, Miss Anna.” + </p> + <p> + The man walked quickly down the street, while the girl hurried off in the + opposite direction, to the nearest police station, where she told what she + had seen. + </p> + <p> + The policeman reached his goal even earlier. The first glance told him + that the man lying there by the wayside was indeed lifeless. And the icy + stiffness of the hand which he touched showed him that life must have fled + many hours back. Anna had been right about the blood also. The dead man + lay on the farther side of the ditch, half down into it. His right arm was + bent under his body, his left arm was stretched out, and the stiffened + fingers... they were slender white fingers... had sought for something to + break his fall. All they had found was a tall stem of wild aster with its + purple blossoms, which they were holding fast in the death grip. On the + dead man’s back was a small bullet-wound and around the edges of it his + light grey coat was stained with blood. His face was distorted in pain and + terror. It was a nice face, or would have been, did it not show all too + plainly the marks of dissipation in spite of the fact that the man could + not have been much past thirty years old. He was a stranger to the + policeman, although the latter had been on this beat for over three years. + </p> + <p> + When the guardian of the law had convinced himself that there was nothing + more to do for the man who lay there, he rose from his stooping position + and stepped back. His gaze wandered up and down the quiet lane, which was + still absolutely empty of human life. He stood there quietly waiting, + watching over the ghastly discovery. In about ten minutes the police + commissioner and the coroner, followed by two roundsmen with a litter, + joined the solitary watcher, and the latter could return to his post. + </p> + <p> + The policemen set down their litter and waited for orders, while the + coroner and the commissioner bent over the corpse. There was nothing for + the physician to do but to declare that the unfortunate man had been dead + for many hours. The bullet which struck him in the back had killed him at + once. The commissioner examined the ground immediately around the corpse, + but could find nothing that pointed to a struggle. There remained only to + prove whether there had been a robbery as well as a murder. + </p> + <p> + “Judging from the man’s position the bullet must have come from that + direction,” said the commissioner, pointing towards the cottages down the + lane. + </p> + <p> + “People who are killed by bullets may turn several times before they + fall,” said a gentle voice behind the police officer. The voice seemed to + suit the thin little man who stood there meekly, his hat in his hand. + </p> + <p> + The commissioner turned quickly. “Ah, are you there already, Muller?” he + said, as if greatly pleased, while the physician broke in with the remark: + </p> + <p> + “That’s just what I was about to observe. This man did not die so quickly + that he could not have made a voluntary or involuntary movement before + life fled. The shot that killed him might have come from any direction.” + </p> + <p> + The commissioner nodded thoughtfully and there was silence for a few + moments. Muller—for the little thin man was none other than the + celebrated Joseph Muller, one of the most brilliant detectives in the + service of the Austrian police—looked down at the corpse carefully. + He took plenty of time to do it and nobody hurried him. For nobody ever + hurried Muller; his well-known and almost laughable thoroughness and + pedantry were too valuable in their results. It was a tradition in the + police that Muller was to have all the time he wanted for everything. It + paid in the end, for Muller made few mistakes. Therefore, his superior the + police commissioner, and the coroner waited quietly while the little man + made his inspection of the corpse. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Muller finally, with a polite bow to the commissioner, + before he bent to brush away the dust on his knees. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” asked Commissioner Holzer. + </p> + <p> + Muller smiled an embarrassed smile as he replied: + </p> + <p> + “Well... I haven’t found out anything yet except that he is dead, and that + he has been shot in the back. His pockets may tell us something more.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, we can examine them at once,” said the commissioner. “I have been + delaying that for I wanted you here; but I had no idea that you would come + so soon. I told them to fetch you if you were awake, but doubted you would + be, for I know you have had no sleep for forty-eight hours.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I can sleep, at least with one eye, when I’m on the chase,” answered + the detective. “So it’s really only twenty-four hours, you see.” Muller + had just returned from tracking down an aristocratic swindler whom he had + found finally in a little French city and had brought back to a Viennese + prison. He had returned well along in the past night and Holzer knew that + the tired man would need his rest. Still he had sent for Muller, who lived + near the police station, for the girl’s report had warned him that this + was a serious case. And in serious cases the police did not like to do + without Muller’s help. + </p> + <p> + And as usual when his work called him, Muller was as wide awake as if he + had had a good night’s sleep behind him. The interest of a new case robbed + him of every trace of fatigue. It was he alone—at his own request—who + raised the body and laid it on its back before he stepped aside to make + way for the doctor. + </p> + <p> + The physician opened the dead man’s vest to see whether the bullet had + passed completely through the body. But it had not; there was not the + slightest trace of blood upon the shirt. + </p> + <p> + “There’s nothing more for me to do here, Muller,” said the physician, as + he bowed to the commissioner and left the place. + </p> + <p> + Muller examined the pockets of the dead man. + </p> + <p> + “It’s probably a case of robbery, too,” remarked the commissioner. “A man + as well-dressed as this one is would be likely to have a watch.” + </p> + <p> + “And a purse,” added the detective. “But this man has neither—or at + least he has them no longer.” + </p> + <p> + In the various pockets of the dead man’s clothes Muller found the + following articles: a handkerchief, several tramway tickets, a penknife, a + tiny mirror, and comb, and a little book, a cheap novel. He wrapped them + all in the handkerchief and put them in his own pocket. The dead man’s + coat had fallen back from his body during the examination, and as Muller + turned the stiffened limbs a little he saw the opening of another pocket + high up over the right hip of the trousers. The detective passed his hand + over the pocket and heard something rattle. Then he put his hand in the + pocket and drew out a thin narrow envelope which he handed to the + commissioner. Holzer looked at it carefully. It was made of very thin + expensive paper and bore no address. But it was sealed, although not very + carefully, for the gummed edges were open in spots. It must have been + hastily closed and was slightly crushed as if it had been carried in a + clenched hand. The commissioner cut open the envelope with his penknife. + He gave an exclamation of surprise as he showed Muller the contents. In + the envelope there were three hundred-gulden notes. + </p> + <p> + The commissioner looked at Muller without a word, but the detective + understood and shook his head. “No,” he said calmly, “it may be a case of + robbery just the same. This pocket was not very easy to find, and the + money in it was safer than the dead man’s watch and purse would be. That + is, if he had a watch and purse—and he very probably had a watch,” + he added more quickly. + </p> + <p> + For Muller had made a little discovery. On the lower hem of the left side + of the dead man’s waistcoat he saw a little lump, and feeling of it he + discovered that it was a watch key which had slipped down out of the torn + pocket between the lining and the material of the vest. A sure proof that + the dead man had had a watch, which in all probability had been taken from + him by his murderer. There was no loose change or small bills to be found + in any of the pockets, so that it was more than likely that the dead man + had had his money in a purse. It seemed to be a case of murder for the + sake of robbery. At least Muller and the commissioner believed it to be + one, from what they had discovered thus far. + </p> + <p> + The police officer gave his men orders to raise the body and to take it to + the morgue. An hour later the unknown man lay in the bare room in which + the only spot of brightness were the rays of the sun that crept through + the high barred windows and touched his cold face and stiffened form as + with a pitying caress. But no, there was one other little spot of + brightness in the silent place. It was the wild aster which the dead man’s + hand still held tightly clasped. The little purple flowers were quite + fresh yet, and the dewdrops clinging to them greeted the kiss of the sun’s + rays with an answering smile. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II. THE BROKEN WILLOW TWIG + </h2> + <p> + As soon as the corpse had been taken away, the police commissioner + returned to the station. But Muller remained there all alone to make a + thorough examination of the entire vicinity. + </p> + <p> + It was not a very attractive spot, this particular part of the street. + There must have been a nursery there at one time, for there were still + several ordered rows of small trees to be seen. There were traces of + flower cultivation as well, for several trailing vines and overgrown + bushes showed where shrubs had been grown which do not usually grow + without man’s assistance. Immediately back of the old elder tree Muller + found several fine examples of rare flowers, or rather he found the shrubs + which his experienced eye recognised as having once borne these unusual + blossoms. One or two blooms still hung to the bushes and the detective, + who was a great lover of flowers, picked them and put them in his + buttonhole. While he did this, his keen eyes were darting about the place + taking in all the details. This vacant lot had evidently been used as an + unlicensed dumping ground for some time, for all sorts of odds and ends, + old boots, bits of stuff, silk and rags, broken bottles and empty tin + cans, lay about between the bushes or half buried in the earth. What had + once been an orderly garden was now an untidy receptacle for waste. The + pedantically neat detective looked about him in disgust, then suddenly he + forgot his displeasure and a gleam shot up in his eye. It was very little, + the thing this man had seen, this man who saw so much more than others. + </p> + <p> + About ten paces from where he stood a high wooden fence hemmed in the lot. + The fence belonged to the neighbouring property, as the lot in which he + stood was not protected in any way. To the back it was closed off by a + corn field where the tall stalks rustled gently in the faint morning + breeze. All this could be seen by anybody and Muller had seen it all at + his first glance. But now he had seen something else. Something that + excited him because it might possibly have some connection with the newly + discovered crime. His keen eyes, in glancing along the wooden fence at his + right hand, had caught sight of a little twig which had worked its way + through the fence. This twig belonged to a willow tree which grew on the + other side, and which spread its grey-green foliage over the fence or + through its wide openings. One of the little twigs which had crept in + between the planks was broken, and it had been broken very recently, for + the leaves were still fresh and the sap was oozing from the crushed stem. + Muller walked over to the fence and examined the twig carefully. He soon + saw how it came to be broken. The broken part was about the height of a + man’s knee from the ground. And just at this height there was quite a + space between two of the planks of the fence, heavy planks which were laid + cross-ways and nailed to thick posts. It would have been very easy for + anybody to get a foothold in this open space between the planks. + </p> + <p> + It was very evidently some foot thrust in between the planks which had + broken the little willow twig, and its soft rind had left a green mark on + the lower plank. “I wonder if that has anything to do with the murder,” + thought Muller, looking over the fence into the lot on the other side. + </p> + <p> + This neighbouring plot was evidently a neglected garden. It had once worn + an aristocratic air, with stone statues and artistic arrangement of flower + beds and shrubs. It was still attractive even in its neglected condition. + Beyond it, through the foliage of its heavy trees, glass windows caught + the sunlight. Muller remembered that there was a handsome old house in + this direction, a house with a mansard roof and wide-reaching wings. He + did not now know to whom this handsome old house belonged, a house that + must have been built in the time of Maria Theresa,... but he was sure of + one thing, and that was that he would soon find out to whom it belonged. + At present it was the garden which interested him, and he was anxious to + see where it ended. A few moments’ further inspection showed him what he + wanted to know. The garden extended to the beginning of the park-like + grounds which surrounded the old house with the mansard roof. A tall iron + railing separated the garden from the park, but this railing did not + extend down as far as the quiet lane. Where it ended there was a light, + well-built wooden fence. Along the street side of the fence there was a + high thick hedge. Muller walked along this hedge until he came to a little + gate. Then crossing the street, he saw that the house whose windows + glistened in the sunlight was a house which he knew well from its other + side, its front facade. + </p> + <p> + Now he went back to the elder tree and then walked slowly away from this + to the spot where he found the broken willow twig. He examined every foot + of the ground, but there was nothing to be seen that was of any interest + to him—not a footprint, or anything to prove that some one else had passed + that way a short time before. And yet it would have been impossible to + pass that way without leaving some trace, for the ground was cut up in all + directions by mole hills. + </p> + <p> + Next the detective scrutinised as much of the surroundings as would come + into immediate connection with the spot where the corpse had been found. + There was nothing to be seen there either, and Muller was obliged to + acknowledge that he had discovered nothing that would lead to an + understanding of the crime, unless, indeed, the broken willow twig should + prove to be a clue. He sprang back across the ditch, turned up the edges + of his trousers where they had been moistened by the dew and walked slowly + along the dusty street. He was no longer alone in the lane. An old man, + accompanied by a large dog, came out from one of the new houses and walked + towards the detective, he was very evidently going in the direction of the + elder-tree, which had already been such a centre of interest that morning. + When he met Muller, the old man halted, touched his cap and asked in a + confidential tone: “I suppose you’ve been to see the place already?” + </p> + <p> + “Which place?” was Muller’s reserved answer. + </p> + <p> + “Why, I mean the place where they found the man who was murdered. They + found him under that elder-tree. My wife just heard of it and told me. I + suppose everybody round here will know it soon.” + </p> + <p> + “Was there a man murdered here?” asked Muller, as if surprised by the + news. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he was shot last night. Only I don’t understand why I didn’t hear + the shot. I couldn’t sleep a wink all night for the pain in my bones.” + </p> + <p> + “You live near here, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I live in No.1. Didn’t you see me coming out?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t notice it. I came across the wet meadows and I stooped to turn + up my trousers so that they wouldn’t get dusty—it must have been + then you came out.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, then you must have been right near the place I was talking about. Do + you see that elder tree there? It’s the only one in the street, and the + girl who brings the milk found the man under it. The police have been here + already and have taken him away. They discovered him about six o’clock and + now it’s just seven.” + </p> + <p> + “And you hadn’t any suspicion that this dreadful thing was happening so + near you?” asked the detective casually. + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t know a thing, sir, not a thing. There couldn’t have been a fight + or I would have heard it. But I don’t know why I didn’t hear the shot.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, then you must have been asleep after all, in spite of your pain,” + said Muller with a smile, as he walked along beside the man back to the + place from which he had just come. + </p> + <p> + The old man shook his head. “No, I tell you I didn’t close an eye all + night. I went to bed at half-past nine and I smoked two pipes before I put + out the light, and then I heard every hour strike all night long and it + wasn’t until nearly five o’clock, when it was almost dawn, that I dozed + off a bit.” + </p> + <p> + “Then it is astonishing that you didn’t hear anything!” + </p> + <p> + “Sure it’s astonishing! But it’s still more astonishing that my dog Sultan + didn’t hear anything. Sultan is a famous watchdog, I’d have you know. + He’ll growl if anybody passes through the street after dark, and I don’t + see why he didn’t notice what was going on over there last night. If a + man’s attacked, he generally calls for help; it’s a queer business all + right.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Sultan, why didn’t you make a noise?” asked Muller, patting the + dog’s broad head. Sultan growled and walked on indifferently, after he had + shaken off the strange hand. + </p> + <p> + “He must have slept more soundly than usual. He went off into the country + with me yesterday. We had an errand to do there and on the way back we + stopped in for a drink. Sultan takes a drop or two himself occasionally, + and that usually makes him sleep. I had hard work to bring him home. We + got here just a few minutes before half-past nine and I tell you we were + both good and tired.” + </p> + <p> + By this time they had come to the elder-tree and the old man’s stream of + talk ceased as he stood before the spot where the mysterious crime had + occurred. He looked down thoughtfully at the grass, now trampled by many + feet. “Who could have done it?” he murmured finally, with a sigh that + expressed his pity for the victim. + </p> + <p> + “Hietzing is known to be one of the safest spots in Vienna,” remarked + Muller. + </p> + <p> + “Indeed it is, sir; indeed it is. As it would well have to be with the + royal castles right here in the neighbourhood! Indeed it would have to be + safe with the Court coming here all the time.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, you see more police here than anywhere else in the city.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, they’re always sticking their nose in where they’re not necessary,” + remarked the old man, not realising to whom he was speaking. “They fuss + about everything you do or don’t do, and yet a man can be shot down right + under our very noses here and the police can’t help it.” + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear sir, it isn’t always possible for the police to prevent a + criminal carrying out his evil intention,” said Muller good-naturedly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, why not? if they watch out sharp enough?” + </p> + <p> + “The police watch out sharper than most people think. But they can’t catch + a man until he has committed his crime, can they?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I suppose not,” said the old man, with another glance at the + elder-tree. He bowed to Muller and turned and walked away. + </p> + <p> + Muller followed him slowly, very much pleased with this meeting, for it + had given him a new clue. There was no reason to doubt the old man’s + story. And if this story was true, then the crime had been committed + before half-past nine of the evening previous. For the old man—he + was evidently the janitor in No.1—had not heard the shot. + </p> + <p> + Muller left the scene of the crime and walked towards the four houses. + Before he reached them he had to pass the garden which belonged to the + house with the mansard roof. Right and left of this garden were vacant + lots, as well as on the opposite side of the street. Then came to the + right and left the four new houses which stood at the beginning of the + quiet lane. Muller passed them, turned up a cross street and then down + again, into the street running parallel, to the lane, a quiet aristocratic + street on which fronted the house with the mansard roof. + </p> + <p> + A carriage stood in front of this house, two great trunks piled up on the + box beside the driver. A young girl and an old man in livery were placing + bags and bundles of rugs inside the carriage. Muller walked slowly toward + the carriage. Just as he reached the open gate of the garden he was + obliged to halt, to his own great satisfaction. For at this moment a group + of people came out from the house, the owners of it evidently, prepared + for a journey and surrounded by their servants. + </p> + <p> + Beside the old man and the young girl, there were two other women, one + evidently the housekeeper, the other possibly the cook. The latter was + weeping openly and devoutly kissing the hand of her mistress. The + housekeeper discovered that a rug was missing and sent the maid back for + it, while the old servant helped the lady into the carriage. The door of + the carriage was wide open and Muller had a good glimpse of the pale, + sweet-faced and delicate-looking young woman who leaned back in her + corner, shivering and evidently ill. The servants bustled about, making + her comfortable, while her husband superintended the work with anxious + tenderness. He was a tall, fine-looking man with deep-set grey eyes and a + rich, sympathetic voice. He gave his orders to his servants with calm + authority, but he also was evidently suffering from the disease of our + century—nervousness, for Muller saw that the man’s hands clenched + feverishly and that his lips were trembling under his drooping moustache. + </p> + <p> + The maid hastened down with the rug and spread it over her mistress’s + knees, as the gentleman exclaimed nervously: “Do hurry with that! Do you + want us to miss the train?” + </p> + <p> + The butler closed the door of the carriage, the coachman gathered up the + reins and raised his whip. The housekeeper bowed low and murmured a few + words in farewell and the other servants followed her example with tears + in their eyes. “You’ll see us again in six weeks,” the lady called out and + her husband added: “If all goes well.” Then he motioned to the waiting + driver and the carriage moved off swiftly, turning the corner in a few + moments. + </p> + <p> + The little group of servants returned to the courtyard behind the high + gates. Muller, whom they had not noticed, was about to resume his walk, + when he halted again. The courtyard of the house led back through a + flagged walk to the park-like garden that surrounded it on the sides and + rear. Down this walk came a young woman. She came so quickly that one + might almost call it running. She was evidently excited about something. + Muller imagined what this something might be, and he remained to hear what + she had to say. He was not mistaken. The woman, it was Mrs. Schmiedler, + the gardener’s wife, began her story at once. “Haven’t you heard yet?” she + said breathlessly. “No, you can’t have heard it yet or you wouldn’t stand + there so quietly, Mrs. Bernauer.” + </p> + <p> + “What’s the matter?” asked the woman whom Muller took to be the + housekeeper. + </p> + <p> + “They killed a man last night out here! They found his body just now in + the lane back of our garden. The janitor from No.1 told me as I was going + to the store, so I went right back to look at the place, and I came to + tell you, as I didn’t think you’d heard it yet.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Bernauer was evidently a woman of strong constitution and of an + equable mind. The other three servants broke out into an excited hubbub of + talk while she remained quite indifferent and calm. “One more poor fellow + who had to leave the world before he was ready,” she remarked calmly, with + just the natural touch of pity in her voice that would come to any + warm-hearted human being upon hearing of such an occurrence. She did not + seem at all excited or alarmed to think that the scene of the crime had + been so near. + </p> + <p> + The other servants were very much more excited and had already rushed off, + under the guidance of the gardener’s wife, to look at the dreadful spot. + Franz, the butler, had quite forgotten to close the front gate in his + excitement, and the housekeeper turned to do it now. + </p> + <p> + “The fools, see them run,” she exclaimed half aloud. “As if there was + anything for them to do there.” + </p> + <p> + The gate closed, Mrs. Bernauer turned and walked slowly to the house. + Muller walked on also, going first to the police station to report what he + had discovered. Then he went to his own rooms and slept until nearly noon. + On his return to the police station he found that notices of the + occurrence had already been sent out to the papers. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III. THE EVENING PAPER + </h2> + <p> + The autopsy proved beyond a doubt that the murdered man had been dead for + many hours before the discovery of his body. The bullet which had struck + him in the back had pierced the trachea and death had occurred within a + few minutes. The only marks for identification of the body were the + initials L. W. on his underwear. The evening paper printed an exact + description of the man’s appearance and his clothing. + </p> + <p> + It was about ten o’clock next morning when Mrs. Klingmayer, a widow living + in a quiet street at the opposite end of the city from Hietzing, returned + from her morning marketing. It was only a few little bundles that she + brought with her and she set about preparing her simple dinner. Her + packages were wrapped in newspapers, which she carefully smoothed out and + laid on the dresser. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Klingmayer was the widow of a street-car conductor and the little + pension which she received from the company, as well as the money she + could earn for herself, did not permit of the indulgence in a daily + newspaper. And yet the reading of the papers was the one luxury for which + the simple woman longed. Her grocer, who was a friend of years, knew this + and would wrap up her purchases in papers of recent date, knowing that she + could then enjoy them in her few moments of leisure. To-day this leisure + came unexpectedly early, for Mrs. Klingmayer had less work than usual to + attend to. + </p> + <p> + Her little flat consisted of two rooms and a kitchen with a large closet + opening out from it. She lived in the kitchen and rented the front rooms. + Her tenants were a middle-aged man, inspector in a factory, who had the + larger room; and a younger man who was bookkeeper in an importing house in + the city. But this young man had not been at home for forty-eight hours, a + fact, however, which did not greatly worry his landlady. The gentleman in + question lived a rather dissipated life and it was not the first time that + he had remained away from home over night. It is true that it was the + first time that he had not been home for two successive nights. But as + Mrs. Klingmayer thought, everything has to happen the first time sometime. + “It’s not likely to be the last time,” the worthy woman thought. + </p> + <p> + At all events she was rather glad of it to-day, for she suffered from + rheumatism and it was difficult for her to get about. The young man’s + absence saved her the work of fixing up his room that morning and allowed + her to get to her reading earlier than usual. When she had put the pot of + soup on the fire, she sat down by the window, adjusted her big spectacles + and began to read. To her great delight she discovered that the paper she + held in her hand bore the date of the previous afternoon. In spite of the + good intentions of her friend the grocer, it was not always that she could + get a paper of so recent date, and she began to read with doubled + anticipation of pleasure. + </p> + <p> + She did not waste time on the leading articles, for she understood little + about politics. The serial stories were a great delight to her, or would + have been, if she had ever been able to follow them consecutively. But her + principal joy were the everyday happenings of varied interest which she + found in the news columns. To-day she was so absorbed in the reading of + them that the soup pot began to boil over and send out rivulets down onto + the stove. Ordinarily this would have shocked Mrs. Klingmayer, for the + neatness of her pots and pans was the one great care of her life. But now, + strange to relate, she paid no attention to the soup, nor to the smell and + the smoke that arose from the stove. She had just come upon a notice in + the paper which took her entire attention. She read it through three + times, and each time with growing excitement. This is what she read: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + MURDER IN HIETZING + + This morning at six o’clock the body of a man about 30 years + old was discovered in a lane in Hietzing. The man must have + been dead many hours. He had been shot from behind. The dead + man was tall and thin, with brown eyes, brown hair and moustache. + The letters L. W. were embroidered in his underwear. There was + nothing else discovered on him that could reveal his identity. + His watch and purse were not in his pockets: presumably they had + been taken by the murderer. A strange fact is that in one of + his pockets—a hidden pocket it is true—there was the sum of + 300 guldens in bills. +</pre> + <p> + This was the notice which made Mrs. Klingmayer neglect the soup pot. + </p> + <p> + Finally the old woman stood up very slowly, threw a glance at the stove + and opened the window mechanically. Then she lifted the pots from the fire + and set them on the outer edge of the range. And then she did something + that ordinarily would have shocked her economical soul—she poured + water on the fire to put it out. + </p> + <p> + When she saw that there was not a spark left in the stove, she went into + her own little room and prepared to go out. Her excitement caused her to + forget her rheumatism entirely. One more look around her little kitchen, + then she locked it up and set out for the centre of the city. + </p> + <p> + She went to the office of the importing house where her tenant, Leopold + Winkler, was employed as bookkeeper. The clerk at the door noticed the + woman’s excitement and asked her kindly what the trouble was. + </p> + <p> + “I’d like to speak to Mr. Winkler,” she said eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Winkler hasn’t come in yet,” answered the young man. “Is anything the + matter? You look so white! Winkler will probably show up soon, he’s never + very punctual. But it’s after eleven o’clock now and he’s never been as + late as this before.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t believe he’ll ever come again,” said the old woman, sinking down + on a bench beside the door. + </p> + <p> + “Why, what do you mean?” asked the clerk. “Why shouldn’t he come again?” + </p> + <p> + “Is the head of the firm here?” asked Mrs. Klingmayer, wiping her forehead + with her handkerchief. The clerk nodded and hurried away to tell his + employer about the woman with the white face who came to ask for a man + who, as she expressed it, “would never come there again.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think she’s quite right in the head,” he volunteered. The head of + the firm told him to bring the woman into the inner office. + </p> + <p> + “Who are you, my good woman?” he asked kindly, softened by the evident + agitation of this poorly though neatly dressed woman. + </p> + <p> + “I am Mr. Winkler’s landlady,” she answered. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! and he wants you to tell me that he’s sick? I’m afraid I can’t + believe all that this gentleman says. I hope he’s not asking your help to + lie to me. Are you sure that his illness is anything else but a case of + being up late?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think that he’ll ever be sick again—I didn’t come with any + message from him, sir; please read this, sir.” And she handed him the + newspaper, showing him the notice. While the gentleman was reading she + added: “Mr. Winkler didn’t come home last night either.” + </p> + <p> + Winkler’s employer read the few lines, then laid the paper aside with a + very serious face. “When did you see him last?” he asked of the woman. + </p> + <p> + “Day before yesterday in the morning. He went away about half-past eight + as he usually does,” she replied. And then she added a question of her + own: “Was he here day before yesterday?” + </p> + <p> + The merchant nodded and pressed an electric bell. Then he rose from his + seat and pulled up a chair for his visitor. “Sit down here. This thing has + frightened you and you are no longer young.” When the servant entered, the + merchant told him to ask the head bookkeeper to come to the inner office. + </p> + <p> + When this official appeared, his employer inquired: “When did Winkler + leave here day before yesterday?” + </p> + <p> + “At six o’clock, sir, as usual.” + </p> + <p> + “He was here all day without interruption?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, with the exception of the usual luncheon hour.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he have the handling of any money Monday?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Mr. Pokorny,” said the merchant, handing his employee the + evening paper and pointing to the notice which had so interested him. + </p> + <p> + Pokorny read it, his face, like his employer’s, growing more serious. “It + looks almost as if it must be Winkler, sir,” he said, in a few moments. + </p> + <p> + “We will soon find that out. I should like to go to the police station + myself with this woman; she is Winkler’s landlady—but I think it + will be better for you to accompany her. They will ask questions about the + man which you will be better able to answer than I.” + </p> + <p> + Pokorny bowed and left the room. Mrs. Klingmayer rose and was about to + follow, when the merchant asked her to wait a moment and inquired whether + Winkler owed her anything. “I am sorry that you should have had this shock + and the annoyances and trouble which will come of it, but I don’t want you + to be out of pocket by it.” + </p> + <p> + “No, he doesn’t owe me anything,” replied the honest old woman, shaking + her head. A few big tears rolled down over her withered cheeks, possibly + the only tears that were shed for the dead man under the elder-tree. But + even this sympathetic soul could find nothing to say in his praise. She + could feel pity for his dreadful death, but she could not assert that the + world had lost anything by his going out of it. As if saddened by the + impossibility of finding a single good word to say about the dead man, she + left the office with drooping head and lagging step. + </p> + <p> + Pokorny helped her into the cab that was already waiting before the door. + The office force had got wind of the fact that something unusual had + occurred and were all at the windows to see them drive off. The three + clerks who worked in the department to which Winkler belonged gathered + together to talk the matter over. They were none of them particularly hit + by it, but naturally they were interested in the discovery in Hietzing, + and equally naturally, they tried to find a few good words to say about + the man whose life had ended so suddenly. + </p> + <p> + The youngest of them, Fritz Bormann, said some kind words and was about to + wax more enthusiastic, when Degenhart, the eldest clerk, cut in with the + words: “Oh, don’t trouble yourself. Nobody ever liked Winkler here. He + was not a good man—he was not even a good worker. This is the first + time that he has a reasonable excuse for neglecting his duties.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, come, see here! how can you talk about the poor man that way when + he’s scarcely cold in death yet,” said Fritz indignantly. + </p> + <p> + Degenhart laughed harshly. + </p> + <p> + “Did I ever say anything else about him while he was warm and alive? Death + is no reason for changing one’s opinion about a man who was + good-for-nothing in life. And his death was a stroke of good luck that he + scarcely deserved. He died without a moment’s pain, with a merry thought + in his head, perhaps, while many another better man has to linger in + torture for weeks. No, Bormann, the best I can say about Winkler is that + his death makes one nonentity the less on earth.” + </p> + <p> + The older man turned to his desk again and the two younger clerks + continued the conversation: “Degenhart appears to be a hard man,” said + Fritz, “but he’s the best and kindest person I know, and he’s dead right + in what he says. It was simply a case of conventional superstition. I + never did like that Winkler.” + </p> + <p> + “No, you’re right,” said the other. “Neither did I and I don’t know why, + for the matter of that. He seemed just like a thousand others. I never + heard of anything particularly wrong that he did.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no more did I,” continued Bormann, “but I never heard of anything + good about him either. And don’t you think that it’s worse for a man to + seem to repel people by his very personality, rather than by any + particular bad thing that he does?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. I don’t know how to explain it, but that’s just how I feel about it. + I had an instinctive feeling that there was something wrong about Winkler, + the sort of a creepy, crawly feeling that a snake gives you.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV. SPEAK WELL OF THE DEAD + </h2> + <p> + Meanwhile Pokorny and Mrs. Klingmayer had reached the police station and + were going upstairs to the rooms of the commissioner on service for the + day. Like all people of her class, Mrs. Klingmayer stood in great awe and + terror of anything connected with the police or the law generally. She + crept slowly and tremblingly up the stairs behind the head bookkeeper and + was very glad when she was left alone for a few minutes while Pokorny went + in to see the commissioner. But as soon as his errand was known, both the + bookkeeper and his companion were led into the office of Head Commissioner + Dr. von Riedau, who had charge of the Hietzing murder case. + </p> + <p> + When Dr. von Riedau heard the reason of their coming, his interest was + immediately aroused, and he pulled a chair to his side for the little thin + man with whom he had been talking when the two strangers were ushered in. + </p> + <p> + “Then you believe you could identify the murdered man?” asked the + commissioner. + </p> + <p> + “From the general description and the initials on his linen, I believe it + must be Leopold Winkler,” answered Pokorny. “Mrs. Klingmayer has not seen + him since Monday morning, nor has she had any message from him. He left + the office Monday afternoon at 6 o’clock and that was the last time that + we saw him. The only thing that makes me doubt his identity is that the + paper reports that three hundred gulden were found in his pocket. Winkler + never seemed to have money, and I do not understand how he should have + been in possession of such a sum.” + </p> + <p> + “The money was found in the dead man’s pockets,” said the commissioner. + “And yet it may be Winkler, the man you know. Muller, will you order a + cab, please?” + </p> + <p> + “I have a cab waiting for me. But it only holds two,” volunteered Pokorny. + </p> + <p> + “That doesn’t matter, I’ll sit on the box,” answered the man addressed as + Muller. + </p> + <p> + “You are going with us?” asked Pokorny. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he will accompany you,” replied the commissioner. “This is detective + Muller, sir. By a mere chance, he happened to be on hand to take charge of + this case and he will remain in charge, although it may be wasting his + talents which we need for more difficult problems. If you or any one else + have anything to tell us, it must be told only to me or to Muller. And + before you leave to look at the body, I would like to know whether the + dead man owned a watch, or rather whether he had it with him on the day of + the murder.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir; he did have a watch, a gold watch,” answered Mrs. Klingmayer. + </p> + <p> + Riedau looked at the bookkeeper, who nodded and said: “Yes, sir; Winkler + had a watch, a gold watch with a double case. It was a large watch, very + thick. I happen to have noticed it by chance and also I happen to know + that he had not had the watch for very long.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you tell us anything more about the watch?” asked the commissioner of + the landlady. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir; there was engraving on the outside cover, initials, and a crown + on the other side.” + </p> + <p> + “What were the initials?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know that, sir; at least I’m not sure about it. There were so + many twists and curves to them that I couldn’t make them out. I think one + of them was a W though, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “The other was probably an L then.” + </p> + <p> + “That might be, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “The younger clerks in the office may be able to tell something more about + the watch,” said Pokorny, “for they were quite interested in it for a + while. It was a handsome watch and they were envious of Winkler’s + possession of it. But he was so tactless in his boasting about it that + they paid no further attention to him after the first excitement.” + </p> + <p> + “You say he didn’t have the watch long?” + </p> + <p> + “Since spring I think, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “He brought it home on the 19th of March,” interrupted Mrs. Klingmayer. “I + remember the day because it was my birthday. I pretended that he had + brought it home to me for a present.” + </p> + <p> + “Was he in the habit of making you presents?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, sir; he was very close with his money, sir. + </p> + <p> + “Well, perhaps he didn’t have much money to be generous with. Now tell me + about his watch chain. I suppose he had a watch chain?” + </p> + <p> + Both the bookkeeper and the landlady nodded and the latter exclaimed: “Oh, + yes, sir; I could recognise it in a minute.” + </p> + <p> + “How?” + </p> + <p> + “It was broken once and Mr. Winkler mended it himself. I lent him my + pliers and he bent the two links together with them. It didn’t look very + nice after that, but it was strong again. You could see the mark of the + pliers easily.” + </p> + <p> + “Why didn’t he take the chain to the jeweler’s to be fixed?” asked the + commissioner. + </p> + <p> + The woman smiled. “It wouldn’t have been worth the money, sir; the chain + wasn’t real gold.” + </p> + <p> + “But the watch was real, wasn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, sir; that was real gold. I pawned it once for Mr. Winkler and + they gave me 24 gulden for it.” + </p> + <p> + “One question more, did he have a purse? And did he have it with him on + the day of the murder?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir; he had a purse, and he must have taken it with him because he + didn’t leave it in his room.” + </p> + <p> + “What sort of a purse was it?” + </p> + <p> + “A brown leather purse, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Was it a new one?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, sir; it was well worn.” + </p> + <p> + “How big was it? About like mine?” Riedau took out his own pocketbook. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir; it was a little smaller. It had three pockets in it. I mended it + for him once, so I know it well. I didn’t have any brown thread so I + mended it with yellow.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. von Riedau nodded to Muller. The latter had been sitting at a little + side-table writing down the questions and answers. When Riedau saw this he + did not send for a clerk to do the work, for Muller preferred to attend to + such matters himself as much as possible. The facts gained in the + examination were impressed upon his mind while he was writing them, and he + did not have to wade through pages of manuscript to get at what he needed. + Now he handed his superior officer the paper. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said Riedau, “I’ll send it out to the other police stations. + I will attend to this myself. You go on with these people to see whether + they can identify the corpse.” + </p> + <p> + Fifteen minutes later the three stood before the body in the morgue and + both the bookkeeper and his companion identified the dead man positively + as Leopold Winkler. + </p> + <p> + When the identification was made, a notice was sent out to all Austrian + police stations and to all pawnshops with an exact description of the + stolen watch and purse. + </p> + <p> + Muller led his companions back to the commissioner’s office and they made + their report to Dr. von Riedau. Upon being questioned further, Pokorny + stated: “I had very little to do with Winkler. We met only when he had a + report to make to me or to show me his books, and we never met outside the + office. The clerks who worked in the same room with him, may know him + better. I know only that he was a very reserved man and very little + liked.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I do not need to detain you any longer, nor to trouble you further + in this affair. I thank you for coming to us so promptly. It has been of + great assistance.” + </p> + <p> + The bookkeeper left the station, but Mrs. Klingmayer, who was now quite + reassured as to the harmlessness of the police, was asked to remain and to + tell what she knew of the private life of the murdered man. Her answers to + the various questions put to her proved that she knew very little about + her tenant. But this much was learned from her: that he was very close + with his money at times, but that again at other times he seemed to have + all he wanted to spend. At such times he paid all his debts, and when he + stayed home for supper, he would send her out for all sorts of expensive + delicacies. These extravagant days seemed to have nothing whatever to do + with Winkler’s business pay day, but came at odd times. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Klingmayer remembered two separate times when he had received a + postal money order. But she did not know from whom the letters came, nor + even whether they were sent from the city or from some other town. Winkler + received other letters now and then, but his landlady was not of the + prying kind, and she had paid very little attention to them. + </p> + <p> + He seemed to have few friends or even acquaintances. She did not know of + any love affair, at least of nothing “regular.” He had remained away over + night two or three times during the year that he had been her tenant. This + was about all that Mrs. Klingmayer could say, and she returned to her home + in a cab furnished her by the kind commissioner. + </p> + <p> + About two hours later, a police attendant announced that a gentleman would + like to see Dr. von Riedan on business concerning the murder in Hietzing. + “Friedrich Bormann” was the name on the card. + </p> + <p> + “Ask him to step in here,” said the commissioner. “And please ask Mr. + Muller to join us.” + </p> + <p> + The good-looking young clerk entered the office bashfully and Muller + slipped in behind him, seating himself inconspicuously by the door. At a + sign from the commissioner the visitor began. “I am an employee of Braun + & Co. I have the desk next to Leopold Winkler, during the year that he + has been with us—the year and a quarter to be exact—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, then you know him rather well?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes. At least we were together all day, although I never met him + outside the office.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you cannot tell us much about his private life?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, but there was something happened on Monday, and in talking it + over with Mr. Braun, he suggested that I should come to you and tell you + about it. It wasn’t really very important, and it doesn’t seem as if it + could have anything to do with this murder and robbery; still it may be of + some use.” + </p> + <p> + “Everything that would throw light on the dead man’s life could be of + use,” said Dr. von Riedau. “Please tell us what it is you know.” + </p> + <p> + Fritz Bormann began: “Winkler came to the office as usual on Monday + morning and worked steadily at his desk. But I happened to notice that he + spoiled several letters and had to rewrite them, which showed me that his + thoughts were not on his work, a frequent occurrence with him. However, + everything went along as usual until 11 o’clock. Then Winkler became very + uneasy. He looked constantly toward the door, compared his watch with the + office clock, and sprang up impatiently as the special letter carrier, who + usually comes about 11 with money orders, finally appeared.” + </p> + <p> + “Then he was expecting money you think?” + </p> + <p> + “It must have been so. For as the letter carrier passed him, he called + out: ‘Haven’t you anything for me?’ and as the man shook his head Winkler + seemed greatly disappointed and depressed. Before he left to go to lunch, + he wrote a hasty letter, which he put in his pocket. + </p> + <p> + “He came in half an hour later than the rest of us. He had often been + reprimanded for his lack of punctuality, but it seemed to do no good. He + was almost always late. Monday was no exception, although he was later + than usual that day.” + </p> + <p> + “And what sort of a mood was he in when he came back?” + </p> + <p> + “He was irritable and depressed. He seemed to be awaiting a message which + did not come. His excitement hindered him from working, he scarcely did + anything the entire afternoon. Finally at five o’clock a messenger boy + came with a letter for him. I saw that Winkler turned pale as he took the + note in his hand. It seemed to be only a few words written hastily on a + card, thrust into an envelope. Winkler’s teeth were set as he opened the + letter. The messenger had already gone away.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you notice his number?” asked Dr. von Riedau. + </p> + <p> + “No, I scarcely noticed the man at all. I was looking at Winkler, whose + behaviour was so peculiar. When he read the card his face brightened. He + read it through once more, then he tore both card and envelope into little + bits and threw the pieces out of the open window. + </p> + <p> + “Then he evidently did not want anybody to see the contents of this note,” + said a voice from the corner of the room. + </p> + <p> + Fritz Bormann looked around astonished and rather doubtful at the little + man who had risen from his chair and now came forward. Without waiting for + an answer from the clerk, the other continued: “Did Winkler have money + sent him frequently?” + </p> + <p> + Bormann looked inquiringly at the commissioner, who replied with a smile: + “You may answer. Answer anything that Mr. Muller has to ask of you, as he + is in charge of this case.” + </p> + <p> + “As far as I can remember, it happened three times,” was Bormann’s answer. + </p> + <p> + “How close together?” + </p> + <p> + “Why—about once in every three or four months, I think.” + </p> + <p> + “That looks almost like a regular income,” exclaimed Riedau. His eyes met + Muller’s, which were lit up in sudden fire. “Well, what are you thinking + of?” asked the commissioner. + </p> + <p> + “A woman,” answered Muller; and continued more as if thinking aloud than + as if addressing the others: “Winkler was a good-looking man. Might he not + have had a rich love somewhere? Might not the money have come from her, + the money that was found in his pocket?” Muller’s voice trailed off into + indistinctness at the last words, and the fire died out of his eyes. Then + he laughed aloud. + </p> + <p> + The commissioner smiled also, a good-natured smile, such as one would give + to a child who has been over-eager. “It doesn’t matter to us where the + money came from. All that matters here is where the bullet came from—the + bullet which prevented his enjoying this money. And it is of more interest + to us to find out who robbed him of his life and his property, rather than + the source from which this property came.” + </p> + <p> + The commissioner’s tone was friendly, but Muller’s face flushed red, and + his head dropped. Riedau turned to Bormann and continued: “And because it + is of no interest to us where his money came from—for it can have + nothing whatever to do with his murder and the subsequent robbery—therefore + what you noticed of his behaviour cannot be of any importance or bearing + in the case in any way. Unless, indeed, you should find out anything more. + But we appreciate the thoughtfulness of yourself and your employer and + your readiness to help us.” + </p> + <p> + Bormann rose to leave, but the commissioner put out a hand to stop him. “A + few moments more, please; you may know of something else that will be of + assistance to us. We have heard that Winkler boasted of his belongings —did + he talk about his private affairs in any way?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, I do not think he did.” + </p> + <p> + “You say that he destroyed the note at once, evidently realising that no + one must see it—this note may have been a promise for the money + which had not yet come. Did he, however, tell any one later that he + expected a certain sum? Do you think he would have been likely to tell any + one?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I do not think that he would tell any one. He never mentioned to any + of us that he had received money, or even that he expected to receive it. + None of us knew what outside resources he might have, or whence they came. + If it had not been that the money was paid him by the carrier in the + office two or three times—so, that we could see it—we would + none of us have known of this income, except for the fact that he was + freer in spending after the money came. He would dine at expensive + restaurants, and this fact he would mention to us, whereas at other times + he would go to the cheap cafe.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you know anything about the people he was acquainted with outside the + office?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. I seldom met him outside of the office. One evening it did + happen that I saw him at Ronacher’s. He was there with a lady—that + is, a so-called ‘lady’—and it must have been one of the times that he had + money, for they were enjoying an expensive supper. At other times, some of + the other clerks met him at various resorts, always with the same sort of + woman. But not always with the same woman, for they were different in + appearance.” + </p> + <p> + “He was never seen anywhere with other men?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir; at least not by any of us.” + </p> + <p> + “He was not liked in the office?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” Bormann’s answer was sharp. + </p> + <p> + “For what reason?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know; we just didn’t like him. We had very little to do with him + at first because of this, and soon we noticed that he seemed just as + anxious to avoid us as we were to avoid him.” + </p> + <p> + The commissioner rose and Bormann followed his example. “I am very sorry, + sir, if I have taken up your time to no purpose,” said the latter + modestly, as he took up his hat. + </p> + <p> + “I am not so sure that what you have said may not be of great value to + us,” said a voice behind them. Muller stood there, looking at Riedau with + a glance almost of defiance. His eyes were again lit up with the strange + fire that shone in them when he was on the trail. The commissioner + shrugged his shoulders, bowed to the departing visitor, and then turned + without an answer to some documents on his desk. There was silence in the + room for a few moments. Finally a gentle voice came from Muller’s corner + again: “Dr. von Riedau?” + </p> + <p> + The commissioner raised his head and looked around. “Oh, are you still + there?” he asked with a drawl. + </p> + <p> + Muller knew what this drawl meant. It was the manner adopted by the + amiable commissioner when he was in a mood which was not amiable. And + Muller knew also the cause of the mood. It was his own last remark, the + words he addressed to Bormann. Muller himself recognised the fact that + this remark was out of place, that it was almost an impertinence, because + it was in direct contradiction to a statement made a few moments before by + his superior officer. Also he realised that his remark had been quite + unnecessary, because it was a matter of indifference to the young man, who + was only obeying his employer’s orders in reporting what he had seen, + whether his report was of value or not. Muller had simply uttered aloud + the thought that came into his mind, a habit of his which years of + official training had not yet succeeded in breaking. It was annoying to + himself sometimes, for these half-formed thoughts were mere instinct—they + were the workings of his own genius that made him catch a suspicion of the + truth long before his conscious mind could reason it out or appreciate its + value. But that sort of thing was not popular in official police life. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” asked the commissioner, as Muller did not continue, “your tongue + is not usually so slow—as you have proved just a few moments back—what + were you going to say now?” + </p> + <p> + “I was about to ask your pardon for my interruption. It was unnecessary, I + should not have said it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I realise that you know better yourself,” said Riedau, now quite + friendly again, “and now what else have you to say? Do you really think + that what the young man has just told us is of any value at all for this + case?” + </p> + <p> + “It seems to me as if it might be of value to us.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it seems to you, eh? Your imagination is working overtime again, + Muller,” said the commissioner with a laugh. But the laugh turned to + seriousness as he realised how many times Muller’s imagination had helped + the clumsy official mind to its proudest triumphs. The commissioner was an + intelligent man, as far as his lights went, and he was a good-hearted man. + He rose from his chair and walked over to where the detective stood. “You + needn’t look so embarrassed, Muller,” he said. “There is no cause for you + to feel bad about it. And—I am quite willing to admit that my remark + just now was unnecessary. You may give your imagination full rein, we can + trust to your intelligence and your devotion to duty to keep it from + unnecessary flights. So curbed, I know it will be of as much assistance to + us this time as it always has been.” + </p> + <p> + Muller’s quiet face lit up, and his eyes shone in a happiness that made + him appear ten years younger. That was one of the strange things about + Joseph Muller. This genius in his profession was in all other ways a man + of such simplicity of heart and bearing, that the slightest word of + approval from one of the officials for whom he worked could make him as + happy as praise from the teacher will make a schoolboy. The moments when + he was in command of any difficult case, when these same superiors would + wait for a word from him, when high officials would take his orders or + would be obliged to acknowledge that without him they were helpless, these + moments were forgotten as soon as the problem was solved and Muller became + again the simple subordinate and the obscure member of the Imperial police + force. + </p> + <p> + When Muller left the commissioner’s room and walked through the outer + office, one of the clerks looked after him and whispered to his companion: + “Do you think he’s found the Hietzing murderer yet?” The other answered: + “I don’t think so, but he looks as if he had found a clue. He’ll find him + sooner or later. He always does.” + </p> + <p> + Muller did not hear these words, although they also would have pleased + him. He walked slowly down the stairs murmuring to himself: “I think I was + right just the same. We are following a false trail.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V. BY A THREAD + </h2> + <p> + It was on Monday, the 27th of September, that Leopold Winkler was murdered + and robbed, and early on Tuesday, the 28th, his body was found. That day + the evening papers printed the report of the murder and the description of + the dead man, and on Wednesday, the 29th, Mrs. Klingmayer read the news + and went to see Winkler’s employer. By noon of that day the body was + identified and a description of the stolen purse and watch telegraphed to + police headquarters in various cities. A few hours later, these police + stations had sent out notices by messenger to all pawnshops and dealers in + second-hand clothing, and now the machinery of the law sat waiting for + some news of an attempt on the part of the robber-and-murderer to get rid + of his plunder. + </p> + <p> + On this same Wednesday, about the twilight hour, David Goldstamm, dealer + in second-hand clothing, stood before the door of his shop in a side + street of the old Hungarian city of Pressburg and watched his assistant + take down the clothes which were hanging outside and carry them into the + store. The old man’s eyes glanced carelessly up and down the street and + caught sight of a man who turned the corner and came hurrying towards him. + This man was a very seedy-looking individual. An old faded overcoat hung + about his thin figure, and a torn and dusty hat fell over his left eye. He + seemed also to be much the worse for liquor and very wobbly on his feet. + And yet he seemed anxious to hurry onward in spite of the unevenness of + his walk. + </p> + <p> + Then he slowed up suddenly, glanced across the street to Goldstamm’s + store, and crossed over. + </p> + <p> + “Have you any boots for me?” he asked, sticking out his right foot that + the dealer might see whether he had anything the requisite size. + </p> + <p> + “I think there’s something there,” answered the old man in his usual + businesslike tone, leading the way into the store. + </p> + <p> + The stranger followed. Goldstamm lit the one light in the little place and + groped about in an untidy heap of shoes of all kinds and sizes until he + found several pairs that he thought might fit. These he brought out and + put them in front of his customer. But in spite of his bleary eyes, the + man caught sight of some patches on the uppers of one pair, and pushed + them away from him. + </p> + <p> + “Give me something better than that. I can pay for it. I don’t have to + wear patched shoes,” he grunted. + </p> + <p> + Goldstamm didn’t like the looks of the man, but he felt that he had better + be careful and not make him angry. “Have patience, sir, I’ll find you + something better,” he said gently, tossing the heap about again, but now + keeping his face turned towards his customer. + </p> + <p> + “I want a coat also and a warm pair of trousers,” said the stranger in a + rough voice. He bent down to loosen the shabby boot from his right foot, + and as he did so something fell out of the pocket of his coat. An + unconscious motion of his own raised foot struck this small object and + tossed it into the middle of the heap of shoes close by Goldstamm’s hand. + The old man reached out after it and caught it. It was just an ordinary + brown leather pocketbook, of medium size, old and shabby, like a thousand + others. But the eyes of the little old man widened as if in terror, his + face turned pale and his hands trembled. For he had seen, hanging from one + side of this worn brown leather pocketbook, the end of a yellow thread, + the loosened end of the thread with which one side of the purse was + mended. The thread told David Goldstamm who it was that had come into his + shop. + </p> + <p> + He regained his control with a desperate effort of the will. It took him + but a few seconds to do so, and, thanks to his partial intoxication, the + customer had not noticed the shopkeeper’s start of alarm. But he appeared + anxious and impatient to regain possession of his purse. + </p> + <p> + “Haven’t you found it yet?” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + Goldstamm hastened to give it back. The tramp put the purse in his pocket + with a sigh of relief. Goldstamm had regained his calm and his mind was + working eagerly. He put several pairs of shoes before his customer, with + the remark: “You must try them on. We’ll find something to suit you. And + meanwhile I will bring in several pairs of trousers from those outside. I + have some fine coats to show you too.” + </p> + <p> + Goldstamm went out to the door, almost colliding there with his assistant + who was coming in with his arm full of garments. The old man motioned to + the boy, who retreated until they were both hidden from the view of the + man within the store. + </p> + <p> + “Give me those blue trousers there,” said Goldstamm in a loud voice. Then + in a whisper he said to the boy: “Run to the police station. The man with + the watch and the purse is in there.” + </p> + <p> + The boy understood and set off at once at a fast pace, while the old man + returned to his store with a heavy heart. He wondered whether he would be + able to keep the murderer there until the police could come. And he also + wondered what it might cost him, an old and feeble man, who would be as a + weak reed in the hands of the strong tramp in there. But he knew it was + his duty to do whatever he could to help in the arrest of one who had just + taken the life of a fellow creature. The realisation of this gave the old + man strength and calmness. + </p> + <p> + “A nice sort of an eye for size you have,” cried the tramp as the old man + came up to him. “I suppose you’ve brought me in a boy’s suit? What do you + take me for? Any girl could go to a ball in the shoes you brought me to + try on here.” + </p> + <p> + “Are they so much too small?” asked the dealer in an innocent tone. “Well, + there’s plenty more there. And perhaps you had better be trying on this + suit behind the curtain here while I’m hunting up the shoes.” + </p> + <p> + This suggestion seemed to please the stranger, as he was evidently in a + hurry. He passed in behind the curtain and began to undress. Goldstamm’s + keen eyes watched him through a crack. There was not much to be seen + except that the tramp seemed anxious to keep his overcoat within reach of + his hand. He had carefully put the purse in one of its pockets. + </p> + <p> + “We’ll get the things all together pretty soon,” said the dealer. “I’ve + found a pair of boots here, fine boots of good quality, and sure to fit.” + </p> + <p> + “Stop your talk,” growled the other, “and come here and help me so that I + can get away.” + </p> + <p> + Goldstamm came forward, and though his heart was very heavy within him, he + aided this man, this man about whom so many hundreds were now thinking in + terror, as calmly as he had aided his other poor but honest customers. + </p> + <p> + With hands that did not tremble, the dealer busied himself about his + customer, listening all the while to sounds in the street in the hope that + his tete-e-tete with the murderer would soon be over. But in spite of all + his natural anxiety, the old man’s sharp eyes took cognizance of various + things, one of which was that the man whom he was helping to dress in his + new clothes did not have the watch which was described in the police + notice. This fact, however, did not make the old man’s heart any lighter, + for the purse mended with yellow thread was too clearly the one stolen + from the murdered man found in the quiet street in Hietzing. + </p> + <p> + “What’s the matter with you, you’re so slow? I can get along better + myself,” growled the tramp, pushing the old man away from him. Goldstamm + had really begun to tremble now in spite of his control, in the fear that + the man would get away from him before the police came. + </p> + <p> + The tramp was already dressed in the new suit, into a pocket of which he + put the old purse. + </p> + <p> + “There, now the boots and then we’re finished,” said the dealer with an + attempt at a smile. In his heart he prayed that the pair he now held in + his hand might not fit, that he might gain a few minutes more. But the + shoes did fit. A little pushing and stamping and the man was ready to + leave the store. He was evidently in a hurry, for he paid what was asked + without any attempt to bargain. Had Goldstamm not known whom he had before + him now, he would have been very much astonished at this, and might + perhaps have been sorry that he had not named a higher sum. But under the + circumstances he understood only too well the man’s desire to get away, + and would much rather have had some talk as to the payment, anything that + would keep his customer a little longer in his store. + </p> + <p> + “There, now we’re ready. I’ll pack up your old things for you. Or perhaps + we can make a deal for them. I pay the highest prices in the city,” said + Goldstamm, with an apparent eagerness which he hoped would deceive the + customer. + </p> + <p> + But the man had already turned towards the door, and called hack over his + shoulder: “You can keep the old things, I don’t want them.” + </p> + <p> + As he spoke he opened the door of the store and stood face to face with a + policeman holding a revolver. He turned, with a curse, back into the room, + but the dealer was nowhere to be seen. David Goldstamm had done his duty + to the public, in spite of his fear. Now, seeing that the police had + arrived, he could think of his duty to his family. This duty was plainly + to save his own life, and when the tramp turned again to look for him, he + had disappeared out of the back door. + </p> + <p> + “Not a move or I will shoot,” cried the policeman, and now two others + appeared behind him, and came into the store. But the tramp made no + attempt to escape. He stood pale and trembling while they put the + handcuffs on him, and let them take him away without any resistance. He + was put on the evening express for Vienna, and taken to Police + Headquarters in that city. He made no protest nor any attempt to escape, + but he refused to utter a word on the entire journey. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI. ALMOST CONVICTED + </h2> + <p> + The evening was already far gone when Muller entered Riedau’s office. + </p> + <p> + “You’re in time, the man isn’t here yet. The train is evidently late,” + said the commissioner. “We’re working this case off quickly. We will have + the murderer here in half an hour at the latest. He did not have much time + to enjoy the stolen property. He was here in Vienna this morning, and was + arrested in Pressburg this afternoon. Here is the telegram, read it.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. von Riedau handed Muller the message. The commissioner was evidently + pleased and excited. The telegram read as follows: “Man arrested here in + possession of described purse containing four ten gulden notes and four + guldens in silver. Arrested in store of second-hand clothes dealer + Goldstamm. Will arrive this evening in Vienna under guard.” + </p> + <p> + The message was signed by the Chief of the Pressburg police. + </p> + <p> + Muller laid the paper on the desk without a word. There was a watch on + this desk already; it was a heavy gold watch, unusually thick, with the + initials L. W. on the cover. Just as Muller laid down the telegram, a door + outside was opened and the commissioner covered the watch hastily. There + was a loud knock at his own door and an attendant entered to announce that + the party from Pressburg had arrived He was followed by one of the + Pressburg police force, who brought the official report. + </p> + <p> + “Did you have any difficulty with him?” asked the commissioner. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, sir; it was a very easy job. He made no resistance at all, and he + seems to be quite sober now. But he hasn’t said a word since we arrested + him.” + </p> + <p> + Then followed the detailed report of the arrest, and the delivery of the + described pocketbook to the commissioner. + </p> + <p> + “Is that all?” asked Dr. von Riedau. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you may go home now, we will take charge of the man.” + </p> + <p> + The policeman bowed and left the room. A few moments later the tramp was + brought in, guarded by two armed roundsmen. His guards remained at the + door, while the prisoner himself walked forward to the middle of the room. + Commissioner von Riedau sat at his desk, his clerk beside him ready to + take down the evidence. Muller sat near a window with a paper on his lap, + looking the least interested of anybody in the proceedings. + </p> + <p> + For a moment there was complete silence in the room, which was broken in a + rather unusual manner. A deep voice, more like a growl, although it had a + queer strain of comic good-nature in it, began the proceedings with the + remark: “Well now, say, what do you want of me, anyway?” + </p> + <p> + The commissioner looked at the man in astonishment, then turned aside that + the prisoner might not notice his smile. But he might have spared himself + the trouble, for Muller, the clerk, and the two policemen at the door were + all on a broad grin. + </p> + <p> + Then the commissioner pulled himself together again, and began with his + usual official gravity: “It is I who ask questions here. Is it possible + that you do not know this? You look to me as if you had had experience in + police courts before.” The commissioner gazed at the prisoner with eyes + that were not altogether friendly. The tramp seemed to feel this, and his + own eyes dropped, while the good-natured impertinence in his bearing + disappeared. It was evidently the last remains of his intoxication. He was + now quite sober. + </p> + <p> + “What is your name?” asked the commissioner. + </p> + <p> + “Johann Knoll.” + </p> + <p> + “Where were you born?” + </p> + <p> + “Near Brunn.” + </p> + <p> + “Your age?” + </p> + <p> + “I’m—I’ll be forty next Christmas.” + </p> + <p> + “Your religion?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you can see I’m no Jew, can’t you?” + </p> + <p> + “You will please answer my questions in a proper manner. This impertinence + will not make things easier for you.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, sir,” said the tramp humbly. “I am a Catholic.” + </p> + <p> + “You have been in prison before?” This was scarcely a question. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir,” said Knoll firmly. + </p> + <p> + “What is your business?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know what to say, sir,” answered Knoll, shrugging his shoulders. + “I’ve done a lot of things in my life. I’m a cattle drover and a lumber + man, and I—” + </p> + <p> + “Did you learn any trade?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, I never learned anything.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you mean to tell me that without having learned any trade you’ve + gotten through life thus far honestly?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I’ve worked hard enough—I’ve worked good and hard sometimes.” + </p> + <p> + “The last few days particularly, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no, sir, not these last days—I was drover on a transport of + pigs; we brought ‘em down from Hungary, 200 of ‘em, to the slaughter house + here.” + </p> + <p> + “When was that?” + </p> + <p> + “That was—that was Monday.” + </p> + <p> + “This last Monday?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. + </p> + <p> + “And then you went to Hietzing?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, that’s right.” + </p> + <p> + “Why did you go to Hietzing?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, see here, sir, if I had gone to Ottakring, then I suppose you would + have asked why did I go to Ottakring. I just went to Hietzing. A fellow + has to go somewhere. You don’t stay in the same spot all the time, do + you?” + </p> + <p> + Again the commissioner turned his head and another smile went through the + room. This Hietzing murderer had a sense of humour. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, we’ll go to Hietzing again, in our minds at least,” said the + commissioner, turning back to Knoll when he had controlled his merriment. + “You went there on Monday, then—and the day was coming to an end. + What did you do when you reached Hietzing?” + </p> + <p> + “I looked about for a place to sleep.” + </p> + <p> + “Where did you look for a place to sleep?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, in Hietzing.” + </p> + <p> + “That is not definite enough.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, in a garden.” + </p> + <p> + “You were trespassing, you mean?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, sir. There wasn’t anybody that seemed to want to invite me to + dinner or to give me a place to sleep. I just had to look out for myself.” + </p> + <p> + “You evidently know how to look out for yourself at the cost of others, a + heavy cost.” The commissioner’s easy tone had changed to sternness. Knoll + felt this, and a sharp gleam shot out from his dull little eyes, while the + tone of his voice was gruff and impertinent again as he asked: “What do + you mean by that?” + </p> + <p> + “You know well enough. You had better not waste any more time, but tell us + at once how you came into possession of this purse.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s my purse,” Knoll answered with calm impertinence. “I got it the way + most people get it. I bought it.” + </p> + <p> + “This purse?” the commissioner emphasised both words distinctly. + </p> + <p> + “This purse—yes,” answered the tramp with a perfect imitation of + Riedau’s voice. “Why shouldn’t I have bought this purse just like any + other?” + </p> + <p> + “Because you stole this purse from the man whom you—murdered,” was + the commissioner’s reply. + </p> + <p> + There was another moment of dead silence in the room. The commissioner and + Muller watched intently for any change of expression in the face of the + man who had just had such an accusation hurled at him. Even the clerk and + the two policemen at the door were interested to see what would happen. + </p> + <p> + Knoll’s calm impertinence vanished, a deadly pallor spread over his face, + and he seemed frozen to stone. He attempted to speak, but was not able to + control his voice. His hands were clenched and tremors shook his gaunt but + strong-muscled frame. + </p> + <p> + “When did I murder anybody?” he gasped finally in a hoarse croak. “You’ll + have to prove it to me that I am a murderer.” + </p> + <p> + “That is easily proved. Here is one of the proofs,” said Riedan coldly, + pointing to the purse. “The purse and the watch of the murdered man are + fatal witnesses against you.” + </p> + <p> + “The watch? I haven’t any watch. Where should I get a watch?” + </p> + <p> + “You didn’t have one until Monday, possibly; I can believe that. But you + were in possession of a watch between the evening of Monday, the 27th, and + the morning of Wednesday, the 29th.” + </p> + <p> + Knoll’s eyes dropped again and he did not trust himself to speak. + </p> + <p> + “Well, you do not deny this statement?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I can’t,” said Knoll, still trying to control his voice. “You must + have the watch yourself now, or else you wouldn’t be so certain about it.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, you see, I thought you’d had experience with police courts before,” + said the commissioner amiably. “Of course I have the watch already. The + man whom you sold it to this morning knew by three o’clock this afternoon + where this watch came from. He brought it here at once and gave us your + description. A very exact description. The man will be brought here to + identify you to-morrow. We must send for him anyway, to return his money + to him. He paid you fifty-two gulden for the watch. And how much money was + in the purse that you took from the murdered man?” + </p> + <p> + “Three gulden eighty-five.” + </p> + <p> + “That was a very small sum for which to commit a murder.” + </p> + <p> + Knoll groaned and bit his lips until they bled. + </p> + <p> + Commissioner von Riedau raised the paper that covered the watch and + continued: “You presumably recognised that the chain on which this watch + hung was valueless, also that it could easily be recognised. Did you throw + it away, or have you it still?” + </p> + <p> + “I threw it in the river.” + </p> + <p> + “That will not make any difference. We do not need the chain, we have + quite enough evidence without it. The purse, for instance: you thought, I + suppose, that it was just a purse like a thousand others, but it is not. + This purse is absolutely individual and easily recognised, because it is + mended in one spot with yellow thread. The thread has become loosened and + hangs down in a very noticeable manner. It was this yellow thread on the + purse, which he happened to see by chance, that showed the dealer + Goldstamm who it was that had entered his store.” + </p> + <p> + Knoll stood quite silent, staring at the floor. Drops of perspiration + stood out on his forehead, some of them rolling like tears down his cheek. + </p> + <p> + The commissioner rose from his seat and walked slowly to where the + prisoner stood. He laid one hand on the man’s shoulder and said in a voice + that was quite gentle and kind again: “Johann Knoll, do not waste your + time, or ours, in thinking up useless lies. You are almost convicted of + this crime now. You have already acknowledged so much, that there is but + little more for you to say. If you make an open confession, it will be + greatly to your advantage.” + </p> + <p> + Again the room was quiet while the others waited for what would happen. + For a moment the tramp stood silent, with the commissioner’s right hand + resting on his shoulder. Then there was a sudden movement, a struggle and + a shout, and the two policemen had overpowered the prisoner and held him + firmly. Muller rose quickly and sprang to his chief’s side. Riedau had not + even changed colour, and he said calmly: “Oh, never mind, Muller; sit down + again. The man had handcuffs on and he is quite quiet now. I think he has + sense enough to see that he is only harming himself by his violence.” + </p> + <p> + The commissioner returned to his desk and Muller went back to his chair by + the window. The prisoner was quiet again, although his face wore a dark + flush and the veins on throat and forehead were swollen thick. He trembled + noticeably and the heavy drops besprinkled his brow. + </p> + <p> + “I—I have something to say, sir,” he began, “but first I want to beg + your pardon—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, never mind that. I am not angry when a man is fighting for his life, + even if he doesn’t choose quite the right way,” answered the commissioner + calmly, playing with a lead pencil. + </p> + <p> + Knoll’s expression was defiant now. He laughed harshly and began again: + “What I’m tellin’ you now is the truth whether you believe it or not. I + didn’t kill the man. I took the watch and purse from him. I thought he was + drunk. If he was killed, I didn’t do it.” + </p> + <p> + “He was killed by a shot.” + </p> + <p> + “A shot? Why, yes, I heard a shot, but I didn’t think any more about it, I + didn’t think there was anythin’ doing, I thought somebody was shootin’ a + cat, or else-” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don’t bother to invent things. It was a man who was shot at, the man + whom you robbed. But go on, go on. I am anxious to hear what you will tell + me.” + </p> + <p> + Knoll’s hands, clenched to fists and his eyes glowed in hate and defiance. + Then he dropped them to the floor again and began to talk slowly in a + monotonous tone that sounded as if he were repeating a lesson. His manner + was rather unfortunate and did not tend to induce belief in the truth of + his story. The gist of what he said was as follows: + </p> + <p> + He had reached Hietzing on Monday evening about 8 o’clock. He was thirsty, + as usual, and had about two gulden in his possession, his wages for the + last day’s work. He turned into a tavern in Hietzing and ate and drank + until his money was all gone, and he had not even enough left to pay for a + night’s lodging. But Knoll was not worried about that. He was accustomed + to sleeping out of doors, and as this was a particularly fine evening, + there was nothing in the prospect to alarm him. He set about finding a + suitable place where he would not be disturbed by the guardians of the + law. His search led him by chance into a newly opened street. This suited + him exactly. The fences were easy to climb, and there were several little + summer houses in sight which made much more agreeable lodgings than the + ground under a bush. And above all, the street was so quiet and deserted + that he knew it was just the place for him. He had never been in the + street before, and did not know its name. He passed the four houses at the + end of the street—he was on the left sidewalk—and then he came + to two fenced-in building lots. These interested him. He was very agile, + raised himself up on the fences easily and took stock of the situation. + One of the lots did not appeal to him particularly, but the second one + did. It bordered on a large garden, in the middle of which he could see a + little house of some kind. It was after sunset but he could see things + quite plainly yet for the air was clear and the moon was just rising. He + saw also that in the vacant lot adjoining the garden, a lot which appeared + to have been a garden itself once, there was a sort of shed. It looked + very much damaged but appeared to offer shelter sufficient for a fine + night. + </p> + <p> + The shed stood on a little raise of the ground near the high iron fence + that protected the large garden. Knoll decided that the shed would make a + good place to spend the night. He climbed the fence easily and walked + across the lot. When he was just settling himself for his nap, he heard + the clock on a near-by church strike nine. The various drinks he had had + for supper put him in a mood that would not allow him to get to sleep at + once. The bench in the old shed was decidedly rickety and very + uncomfortable, and as he was tossing about to find a good position, a + thought came into his mind which he acknowledged was not a commendable + one. It occurred to him that if he pursued his investigations in the + neighbourhood a little further, he might be able to pick up something that + would be of advantage to him on his wanderings. His eyes and his thoughts + were directed towards the handsome house which he could see beyond the + trees of the old garden. + </p> + <p> + The moon was now well up in the sky and it shone brightly on the mansard + roof of the fine old mansion. The windows of the long wing which stretched + out towards the garden glistened in the moonbeams, and the light coloured + wall of the house made a bright background for the dark mask of trees + waving gently in the night breeze. Knoll’s little shed was sufficiently + raised on its hillock for him to have a good view of the garden. There was + no door to the shed and he could see the neighbouring property clearly + from where he lay on his bench. While he lay there watching, he saw a + woman walking through the garden. He could see her only when she passed + back of or between the lower shrubs and bushes. As far as he could see, + she came from the main building and was walking towards a pretty little + house which lay in the centre of the garden. Knoll had imagined this house + to be the gardener’s dwelling and as it lay quite dark he supposed the + inmates were either asleep or out for the evening. It had been this house + which he was intending to honour by a visit. But seeing the woman walking + towards it, he decided it would not be safe to carry out his plan just yet + awhile. + </p> + <p> + A few moments later he was certain that this last decision had been a wise + one, for he saw a man come from the main building and walk along the path + the woman had taken. “No, nothing doing there,” thought Knoll, and + concluded he had better go to sleep. He could not remember just how long + he may have dozed but it seemed to him that during that time he had heard + a shot. It did not interest him much. He supposed some one was shooting at + a thieving cat or at some small night animal. He did not even remember + whether he had been really sound asleep, before he was aroused by the + breaking down of the bench on which he lay. The noise of it more than the + shock of the short fall, awoke him and he sprang up in alarm and listened + intently to hear whether any one had been attracted by it. His first + glance was towards the building behind the garden. There was no sound nor + no light in the garden house but there was a light in the main building. + While the tramp was wondering what hour it might be, the church clock + answered him by ten loud strokes. + </p> + <p> + His head was already aching from the wine and he did not feel comfortable + in the drafty old building. He came out from it, crept along to the spot + where he had climbed the fence before, and after listening carefully and + hearing nothing on either side, he climbed back to the road. The Street + lay silent and empty, which was just what he was hoping for. He held + carefully to the shadow thrown by the high board fence over which he had + climbed until he came to its end. Then he remembered that he hadn’t done + anything wrong and stepped out boldly into the moonlight. The moon was + well up now and the street was almost as light as day. Knoll was attracted + by the queer shadows thrown by a big elder tree, waving its long branches + in the wind. As he came nearer he saw that part of the shadow was no + shadow at all but was the body of a man lying in the street near the bush. + “I thought sure he was drunk” was the way Knoll described it. “I’ve been + like that myself often until somebody came along and found me.” + </p> + <p> + When he came to this spot in his story, he halted and drew a long breath. + Commissioner von Riedau had begun to make some figures on the paper in + front of him, then changed the lines until the head of a pretty woman in a + fur hat took shape under his fingers. + </p> + <p> + “Well, go on,” he said, looking with interest at his drawing and improving + it with several quick strokes. + </p> + <p> + Johann Knoll continued: + </p> + <p> + “Then the devil came over me and I thought I better take this good + opportunity—well—I did. The man was lying on his back and I + saw a watch chain on his dark vest. I bent over him and took his watch and + chain. Then I felt around in his pocket and found his purse. And then—well + then I felt sorry for him lying out in the open road like that, and I + thought I’d lift him up and put him somewhere where he could sleep it off + more convenient. But I didn’t see there was a little ditch there and I + stumbled over it and dropped him. ‘It’s a good thing he’s so drunk that + even this don’t wake him up,’ I thought, and ran off. Then I thought I + heard something moving and I was scared stiff, but there was nothing in + the street at all. I thought I had better take to the fields though and I + crossed through some corn and then out onto another street. Finally I + walked into the city, stayed there till this morning, sold the watch, then + went to Pressburg.” + </p> + <p> + “So that was the way it was,” said the commissioner, pushing his drawing + away from him and motioning to the policemen at the door. “You may take + this man away now,” he added in a voice of cool indifference, without + looking at the prisoner. + </p> + <p> + Knoll’s head drooped and he walked out quietly between his two guards. The + clock on the office wall struck eleven. + </p> + <p> + “Dear me! what a lot of time the man wasted,” said the commissioner, + putting the report of the proceedings, the watch and the purse in a drawer + of his desk. “When anybody has been almost convicted of a crime, it’s + really quite unnecessary to invent such a long story.” + </p> + <p> + A few minutes later, the room was empty and Muller, as the last of the + group, walked slowly down the stairs. He was in such a brown study that he + scarcely heard the commissioner’s friendly “goodnight,” nor did he notice + that he was walking down the quiet street under a star-gilded sky. “Almost + convicted—almost. Almost?” Muller’s lips murmured while his head was + full of a chaotic rush of thought, dim pictures that came and went, + something that seemed to be on the point of bringing light into the + darkness, then vanishing again. “Almost—but not quite. There is + something here I must find out first. What is it? I must know—” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII. THE FACE AT THE GATE + </h2> + <p> + The second examination of the prisoner brought nothing new. Johann Knoll + refused to speak at all, or else simply repeated what he had said before. + This second examination took place early the next morning, but Muller was + not present. He was taking a walk in Hietzing. + </p> + <p> + When they took Johann Knoll in the police wagon to the City Prison, Muller + was just sauntering slowly through the street where the murder had been + committed. And as the door of the cell shut clangingly behind the man + whose face was distorted in impotent rage and despair, Joseph Muller was + standing in deep thought before the broken willow twig, which now hung + brown and dry across the planks of the fence. He looked at it for a long + time. That is, he seemed to be looking at it, but in reality his eyes were + looking out and beyond the willow twig, out into the unknown, where the + unknown murderer was still at large. Leopold Winkler’s body had already + been committed to the earth. How long will it be before his death is + avenged? Or perhaps how long may it even be before it is discovered from + what motive this murder was committed. Was it a murder for robbery, or a + murder for personal revenge perhaps? Were the two crimes committed here by + one and the same person, or were there two people concerned? And if two, + did they work as accomplices? Or is it possible that Knoll’s story was + true? Did he really only rob the body, not realising that it was a dead + man and not merely an intoxicated sleeper as he had supposed? These and + many more thoughts rushed tumultuously through Muller’s brain until he + sighed despairingly under the pressure. Then he smiled in amusement at the + wish that had crossed his brain, the wish that this case might seem as + simple to him as it apparently did to the commissioner. It would certainly + have saved him a lot of work and trouble if he could believe the obvious + as most people did. What was this devil that rode him and spurred him on + to delve into the hidden facts concerning matters that seemed so simple on + the surface? The devil that spurred him on to understand that there always + was some hidden side to every case? Then the sigh and the smile passed, + and Muller raised his head in one of the rare moments of pride in his own + gifts that this shy unassuming little man ever allowed himself. This was + the work that he was intended by Providence to do or he wouldn’t have been + fitted for it, and it was work for the common good, for the public safety. + Thinking back over the troubles of his early youth, Muller’s heart + rejoiced and he was glad in his own genius. Then the moment of unwonted + elation passed and he bent his mind again to the problem before him. + </p> + <p> + He sauntered slowly through the quiet street in the direction of the four + houses. To reach them he passed the fence that enclosed this end of the + Thorne property. Muller had already known, for the last twenty-four hours + at least, that the owner of the fine old estate was an artist by the name + of Herbert Thorne. His own landlady had informed him of this. He himself + was new to the neighbourhood, having moved out there recently, and he had + verified her statements by the city directory. As he was now passing the + Thorne property, in his slow, sauntering walk, he had just come within a + dozen paces of the little wooden gate in the fence when this gate opened. + Muller’s naturally soft tread was made still more noiseless by the fact + that he wore wide soft shoes. Years before he had acquired a bad case of + chilblains, in fact had been in imminent danger of having his feet frozen + by standing for five hours in the snow in front of a house, to intercept + several aristocratic gentlemen who sooner or later would be obliged to + leave that house. The police had long suspected the existence of this + high-class gambling den; but it was not until they had put Muller in + charge of the case, that there were any results attained. The arrests were + made at the risk of permanent injury to the celebrated detective. Since + then, Muller’s step was more noiseless than usual, and now the woman who + opened the gate and peered out cautiously did not hear his approach nor + did she see him standing in the shadow of the fence. She looked towards + the other end of the street, then turned and spoke to somebody behind her. + “There’s nobody coming from that direction,” he said. Then she turned her + head the other way and saw Muller. She looked at him for a moment and + slammed the gate shut, disappearing behind it. Muller heard the lock click + and heard the beat of running feet hastening rapidly over the gravel path + through the garden. + </p> + <p> + The detective stood immediately in front of the gate, shaking his head. + “What was the matter with the woman? What was it that she wanted to see or + do in the street? Why should she run away when she saw me?” These were his + thoughts. But he didn’t waste time in merely thinking. Muller never did. + Action followed thought with him very quickly. He saw a knot-hole in the + fence just beside the gate and he applied his eyes to this knot-hole. And + through the knot-hole he saw something that interested and surprised him. + </p> + <p> + The woman whose face had appeared so suddenly at the gate, and disappeared + still more suddenly, was the same woman whom he had seen bidding farewell + to Mr. Thorne and his wife on the Tuesday morning previous, the woman whom + he took to be the housekeeper. The old butler stood beside her. It was + undoubtedly the same man, although he had worn a livery then and was now + dressed in a comfortable old house coat. He stood beside the woman, + shaking his head and asking her just the questions that Muller was asking + himself at the moment. + </p> + <p> + “Why, what is the matter with you, Mrs. Bernauer? You’re so nervous since + yesterday. Are you ill? Everything seems to frighten you? Why did you run + away from that gate so suddenly? I thought you wanted me to show you the + place?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Bernauer raised her head and Muller saw that her face looked pale and + haggard and that her eyes shone with an uneasy feverish light. She did not + answer the old man’s questions, but made a gesture of farewell and then + turned and walked slowly towards the house. She realised, apparently, and + feared, perhaps, that the man who was passing the gate might have noticed + her sudden change of demeanour and that he was listening to what she might + say. She did not think of the knot-hole in the board fence, or she might + have been more careful in hiding her distraught face from possible + observers. + </p> + <p> + Muller stood watching through this knot-hole for some little time. He took + a careful observation of the garden, and from his point of vantage he + could easily see the little house which was apparently the dwelling of the + gardener, as well as the mansard roof of the main building. There was + considerable distance between the two houses. The detective decided that + it might interest him to know something more about this garden, this house + and the people who lived there. And when Muller made such a decision it + was usually not very long before he carried it out. + </p> + <p> + The other street, upon which the main front of the mansard house opened, + contained a few isolated dwellings surrounded by gardens and a number of + newly built apartment houses. On the ground floor of these latter houses + were a number of stores and immediately opposite the Thorne mansion was a + little cafe. This suited Muller exactly, for he had been there before and + he remembered that from one of the windows there was an excellent view of + the gate and the front entrance of the mansion opposite. It was a very + modest little cafe, but there was a fairly good wine to be had there and + the detective made it an excuse to sit down by the window, as if enjoying + his bottle while admiring the changing colours of the foliage in the + gardens opposite. + </p> + <p> + Another rather good chance, he discovered, was the fact that the landlord + belonged to the talkative sort, and believed that the refreshments he had + to sell were rendered doubly agreeable when spiced by conversation. In + this case the good man was not mistaken. It was scarcely ten o’clock in + the forenoon and there were very few people in the cafe. The landlord was + quite at leisure to devote himself to this stranger in the window seat, + whom he did not remember to have seen before, and who was therefore doubly + interesting to him. Several subjects of conversation usual in such cases, + such as politics and the weather, seemed to arouse no particular + enthusiasm in his patron’s manner. Finally the portly landlord decided + that he would touch upon the theme which was still absorbing all Hietzing. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, by the way, sir, do you know that you are in the immediate vicinity + of the place where the murder of Monday evening was committed? People are + still talking about it around here. And I see by the papers that the + murderer was arrested in Pressburg yesterday and brought to Vienna last + night.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed, is that so? I haven’t seen a paper to-day,” replied Muller, + awakening from his apparent indifference. + </p> + <p> + The landlord was flattered by the success of the new subject, and stood + ready to unloose the floodgates of his eloquence. His customer sat up and + asked the question for which the landlord was waiting. + </p> + <p> + “So it was around here that the man was shot?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. His name was Leopold Winkler, that was in the papers to-day too. You + see that pretty house opposite? Well, right behind this house is the + garden that belongs to it and back of that, an old garden which has been + neglected for some time. It was at the end of this garden where it touches + the other street, that they found the man under a big elder-tree, early + Tuesday morning, day before yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, indeed!” said. Muller, greatly interested, as if this was the first + he had heard of it. The landlord took a deep breath and was about to begin + again when his customer, who decided to keep the talkative man to a + certain phase of the subject, now took command of the conversation + himself. + </p> + <p> + “I should think that the people opposite, who live so near the place where + the murder was committed, wouldn’t be very much pleased,” he said. “I + shouldn’t care to look out on such a spot every time I went to my window.” + </p> + <p> + “There aren’t any windows there,” exclaimed the landlord, “for there + aren’t any houses there. There’s only the old garden, and then the large + garden and the park belonging to Mr. Thorne’s house, that fine old house + you see just opposite here. It’s a good thing that Mr. Thorne and his wife + went away before the murder became known. The lady hasn’t been well for + some weeks, she’s very nervous and frail, and it probably would have + frightened her to think that such things were happening right close to her + home.” + </p> + <p> + “The lady is sick? What’s the matter with her?” + </p> + <p> + “Goodness knows, nerves, heart trouble, something like that. The things + these fine ladies are always having. But she wasn’t always that way, not + until about a year ago. She was fresh and blooming and very pretty to look + at before that.” + </p> + <p> + “She is a young lady then?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, indeed, sir; she’s very young still and very pretty. It makes you + feel sorry to see her so miserable, and you feel sorry for her husband. + Now there’s a young couple with everything in the world to make them happy + and so fond of each other, and the poor little lady has to be so sick.” + </p> + <p> + “They are very happy, you say?” asked Muller carelessly. He had no + particular set purpose in following up this inquiry, none but his usual + understanding of the fact that a man in his business can never amass too + much knowledge, and that it will sometimes happen that a chance bit of + information comes in very handy. + </p> + <p> + The landlord was pleased at the encouragement and continued: “Indeed they + are very happy. They’ve only been married two years. The lady comes from a + distance, from Graz. Her father is an army officer I believe, and I don’t + think she was over-rich. But she’s a very sweet-looking lady and her rich + husband is very fond of her, any one can see that.” + </p> + <p> + “You said just now that they had gone away, where have they gone to?” + </p> + <p> + “They’ve gone to Italy, sir. Mrs. Thorne was one of the few people who do + not know Venice. Franz, that’s the butler, sir, told me yesterday evening + that he had received a telegram saying that the lady and gentleman had + arrived safely and were very comfortably fixed in the Hotel Danieli. You + know Danieli’s?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I do. I also was one of the few people who did not know Venice, that + is I was until two years ago. Then, however, I had the pleasure of riding + over the Bridge of Mestre,” answered Muller. He did not add that he was + not alone at the time, but had ridden across the long bridge in company + with a pale haggard-faced man who did not dare to look to the right or to + the left because of the revolver which he knew was held in the detective’s + hand under his loose overcoat. Muller’s visit to Venice, like most of his + journeyings, had been one of business. This time to capture and bring home + a notorious and long sought embezzler. He did not volunteer any of this + information, however, but merely asked in a politely interested manner + whether the landlord himself had been to Venice. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, indeed,” replied the latter proudly. “I was head waiter at Baner’s + for two years.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you must make me some Italian dishes soon,” said Muller. Further + conversation was interrupted by the entrance of Franz, the old butler of + the house opposite. + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, sir; I must get him his glass of wine,” said the landlord, + hurrying away to the bar. He returned in a moment with a small bottle and + a glass and set it down on Muller’s table. + </p> + <p> + “You don’t mind, sir, if he sits down here?” he asked. “He usually sits + here at this table because then he can see if he is needed over at the + house.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, please let him come here. He has prior rights to this table + undoubtedly,” said the stranger politely. The old butler sat down with an + embarrassed murmur, as the voluble landlord explained that the stranger + had no objection. Then the boniface hurried off to attend to some newly + entered customers and the detective, greatly pleased at the prospect, + found himself alone with the old servant. + </p> + <p> + “You come here frequently?” he began, to open the conversation. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, since my master and myself have settled down here—we + travelled most of the time until several years ago—I find this place + very convenient. It’s a cosy little room, the wine is good and not + expensive, I’m near home and yet I can see some new faces occasionally.” + </p> + <p> + “I hope the faces that you see about you at home are not so unpleasant + that you are glad to get away from them?” asked Muller with a smile. + </p> + <p> + The old man gave a start of alarm. “Oh, dear, no, sir,” he exclaimed + eagerly; “that wasn’t what I meant. Indeed I’m fond of everybody in the + house from our dear lady down to the poor little dog.” + </p> + <p> + Here Muller gained another little bit of knowledge, the fact that the lady + of the house was the favourite of her servants, or that she seemed to them + even more an object of adoration than the master. + </p> + <p> + “Then you evidently have a very good place, since you seem so fond of + every one.” + </p> + <p> + “Indeed I have a good place, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “You’ve had this place a long time?” + </p> + <p> + “More than twenty years. My master was only eleven years old when I took + service with the family.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, indeed! then you must be a person of importance in the house if you + have been there so long?” + </p> + <p> + “Well more or less I might say I am,” the old man smiled and looked + flattered, then added: “But the housekeeper, Mrs. Bernauer, is even more + important than I am, to tell you the truth. She was nurse to our present + young master, and she’s been in the house ever since. When his parents + died, it’s some years ago now, she took entire charge of the housekeeping. + She was a fine active woman then, and now the young master and mistress + couldn’t get along without her. They treat her as if she was one of the + family.” + </p> + <p> + “And she is ill also? I say also,” explained Muller, “because the landlord + has just been telling me that your mistress is ill.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, indeed, more’s the pity! our poor dear young lady has been miserable + for nearly a year now. It’s a shame to see such a sweet angel as she is + suffer like that and the master’s quite heart-broken over it. But there’s + nothing the matter with Mrs. Bernauer. How did you come to think that she + was sick?” + </p> + <p> + Muller did not intend to explain that the change in the housekeeper’s + appearance, a change which had come about between Tuesday morning and + Thursday morning, might easily have made any one think that she was ill. + He gave as excuse for his question the old man’s own words: “Why, I + thought that she might be ill also because you said yourself that the + housekeeper—what did you say her name was?” + </p> + <p> + “Bernauer, Mrs. Adele Bernauer. She was a widow when she came to take care + of the master. Her husband was a sergeant of artillery.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I mean,” continued Muller, “you said yourself that when the + gentleman’s parents died, Mrs. Bernauer was a fine active woman, therefore + I supposed she was no longer so.” + </p> + <p> + Franz thought the matter over for a while. “I don’t know just why I put it + that way. Indeed she’s still as active as ever and always fresh and well. + It’s true that for the last two or three days she’s been very nervous and + since yesterday it is as if she was a changed woman. She must be ill, I + don’t know how to explain it otherwise.” + </p> + <p> + “What seems to be the matter with her?” asked Muller and then to explain + his interest in the housekeeper’s health, he fabricated a story: “I + studied medicine at one time and although I didn’t finish my course or get + a diploma, I’ve always had a great interest in such things, and every now + and then I’ll take a case, particularly nervous diseases. That was my + specialty.” Muller took up his glass and turned away from the window, for + he felt a slow flush rising to his cheeks. It was another of Muller’s + peculiarities that he always felt an inward embarrassment at the lies he + was obliged to tell in his profession. + </p> + <p> + The butler did not seem to have noticed it however, and appeared eager to + tell of what concerned him in the housekeeper’s appearance and demeanour. + “Why, yesterday at dinner time was the first that we began to notice + anything wrong with Mrs. Bernauer. The rest of us, that is, Lizzie the + upstairs girl, the cook and myself. She began to eat her dinner with a + good appetite, then suddenly, when we got as far as the pudding, she let + her fork fall and turned deathly white. She got up without saying a word + and left the room. Lizzie ran after her to ask if anything was the matter, + but she said no, it was nothing of importance. After dinner, she went + right out, saying she was doing some errands. She brought in a lot of + newspapers, which was quite unusual, for she sometimes does not look at a + newspaper once a week even. I wouldn’t have noticed it but Lizzie’s the + kind that sees and hears everything and she told us about it.” Franz + stopped to take a drink, and Muller said indifferently, “I suppose Mrs. + Bernauer was interested in the murder case. The whole neighbourhood seems + to be aroused about it.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I don’t think that was it,” answered the old servant, “because then + she would have sent for a paper this morning too.” + </p> + <p> + “And she didn’t do that?” + </p> + <p> + “No, unless she might have gone out for it herself. There’s a news stand + right next door here. But I don’t think she did because I would have seen + the paper around the house then.” + </p> + <p> + “And is that all that’s the matter with her?” asked Muller in a tone of + disappointment. “Why, I thought you’d have something really interesting to + tell me.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, that isn’t all, sir,” exclaimed the old man eagerly. + </p> + <p> + Muller leaned forward, really interested now, while Franz continued: “She + was uneasy all the afternoon yesterday. She walked up and down stairs and + through the halls—I remember Lizzie making some joke about it—and + then in the evening to our surprise she suddenly began a great rummaging + in the first story.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that where she lives?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no; her room is in the wing out towards the garden. The rooms on the + first floor all belong to the master and mistress. This morning we found + out that Mrs. Bernauer’s cleaning up of the evening before had been done + because she remembered that the master wanted to take some papers with him + but couldn’t find them and had asked her to look for them and send them + right on.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I shouldn’t call that a sign of any particular nervousness, but + rather an evidence of Mrs. Bernauer’s devotion to her duty.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, sir—but it certainly is queer that she should go into the + garden at four o’clock this morning and appear to be looking for something + along the paths and under the bushes. Even if a few of the papers blew out + of the window, or blew away from the summer house, where the master writes + sometimes, they couldn’t have scattered all over the garden like that.” + </p> + <p> + Muller didn’t follow up this subject any longer. There might come a time + when he would be interested in finding out the reason for the + housekeeper’s search in the garden, but just at present he wanted + something else. He remembered some remark of the old man’s about the “poor + little dog,” and on this he built his plan. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well,” he said carelessly, “almost everybody is nervous and impatient + now-a-days. I suppose Mrs. Bernauer felt uneasy because she couldn’t find + the paper right away. There’s nothing particularly interesting or + noticeable about that. Anyway, I’ve been occupying myself much more these + last years with sick animals rather than with sick people. I’ve had some + very successful cures there.” + </p> + <p> + “No, really, have you? Then you could do us a great favour,” exclaimed + Franz in apparent eagerness. Muller’s heart rejoiced. He had apparently + hit it right this time. He knew that in a house like that “a poor dog” + could only mean a “sick dog.” But his voice was quite calm as he asked: + “How can I do you a favour?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, you see, sir, we’ve got a little terrier,” explained the old man, + who had quite forgotten the fact that he had mentioned the dog before. + “And there’s been something the matter with the poor little chap for + several days. He won’t eat or drink, he bites at the grass and rolls + around on his stomach and cries—it’s a pity to see him. If you’re + fond of animals and know how to take care of them, you may be able to help + us there.” + </p> + <p> + “You want me to look at the little dog? Why, yes, I suppose I can.” + </p> + <p> + “We’ll appreciate it,” said the old man with an embarrassed smile. But + Muller shook his head and continued: “No, never mind the payment, I + wouldn’t take any money for it. But I’ll tell you what you can do for me. + I’m very fond of flowers. If you think you can take the responsibility of + letting me walk around in the garden for a little while, and pick a rose + or two, I will be greatly pleased.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, of course you may,” said Franz. “Take any of the roses you see there + that please you. They’re nearly over for the season now and it’s better + they should be picked rather than left to fade on the bush. We don’t use + so many flowers in the house now when the family are not there.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, then, it’s a bargain,” laughed Muller, signalling to the + landlord. “Are you, going already?” asked the old servant. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I must be going if I am to spend any time with the little dog.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose I ought to be at home myself,” said Franz. “Something’s the + matter with the electric wiring in our place. The bell in the master’s + room keeps ringing. I wrote to Siemens & Halske to send us a man out + to fix it. He’s likely to come any minute now.” The two men rose, paid + their checks, and went out together. Outside the cafe Muller hesitated a + moment. “You go on ahead,” he said to Franz. “I want to go in here and get + a cigar.” + </p> + <p> + While buying his cigar and lighting it, he asked for several newspapers, + choosing those which his quick eye had told him were no longer among the + piles on the counter. “I’m very sorry, sir,” said the clerk; “we have only + a few of those papers, just two or three more than we need for our regular + customers, and this morning they are all sold. The housekeeper from the + Thorne mansion took the very last ones.” + </p> + <p> + This was exactly what Muller wanted to know. He left the store and caught + up with the old butler as the latter was opening the handsome iron gate + that led from the Thorne property out onto the street. + </p> + <p> + “Well, where’s our little patient?” asked the detective as he walked + through the courtyard with Franz. + </p> + <p> + “You’ll see him in a minute,” answered the old servant. He led the way + through a light roomy corridor furnished with handsome old pieces in + empire style, and opened a door at its further end. + </p> + <p> + “This is my room.” + </p> + <p> + It was a large light room with two windows opening on the garden. Muller + was not at all pleased that the journey through the hall had been such a + short one. However he was in the house, that was something, and he could + afford to trust to chance for the rest. Meanwhile he would look at the + dog. The little terrier lay in a corner by the stove and it did not take + Muller more than two or three minutes to discover that there was nothing + the matter with the small patient but a simple case of over-eating. But he + put on a very wise expression as he handled the little dog and looking up, + asked if he could get some chamomile tea. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll go for it, I think there’s some in the house. Do you want it made + fresh?” said Franz. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that will be better, about a cupful will do,” was Muller’s answer. + He knew that this harmless remedy would be likely to do the dog good and + at the present moment he wanted to be left alone in the room. As soon as + Franz had gone, the detective hastened to the window, placing himself + behind the curtain so that he could not be seen from outside. He himself + could see first a wide courtyard lying between the two wings of the house, + then beyond it the garden, an immense square plot of ground beautifully + cultivated. The left wing of the house was about six windows longer than + the other, and from the first story of it it would be quite easy to look + out over the vacant lot where the old shed stood which had served as a + night’s lodging for Johann Knoll. + </p> + <p> + There was not the slightest doubt in Muller’s mind that this part of the + tramp’s story was true, for by a natural process of elimination he knew + there was nothing to be gained by inventing any such tale. Besides which + the detective himself had been to look at the shed. His well-known + pedantic thoroughness would not permit him to take any one’s word for + anything that he might find out for himself. In his investigations on + Tuesday morning he had already seen the half-ruined shed, now he knew that + it contained a broken bench. + </p> + <p> + Thus far, therefore, Knoll’s story was proved to be true—but there was + something that didn’t quite hitch in another way. The tramp had said that + he had seen first a woman and then a man come from the main house and go + in the direction of the smaller house which he took to be the gardener’s + dwelling. This Muller discovered now was quite impossible. A tall hedge, + fully seven or eight feet high and very thick, stretched from the + courtyard far down into the garden past the gardener’s little house. There + was a broad path on the right and the left of this green wall. From his + position in the shed, Knoll could have seen people passing only when they + were on the right side of the hedge. But to reach the gardener’s house + from the main dwelling, the shortest way would be on the left side of the + hedge. This much Muller saw, then he heard the butler’s steps along the + hall and he went back to the corner where the dog lay. + </p> + <p> + Franz was not alone. There was some one else with him, the housekeeper, + Mrs. Bernauer. Just as they opened the door, Muller heard her say: “If the + gentleman is a veterinary, then we’d better ask him about the parrot—” + </p> + <p> + The sentence was never finished. Muller never found out what was the + matter with the parrot, for as he looked up with a polite smile of + interest, he looked into a pale face, into a pair of eyes that opened wide + in terror, and heard trembling lips frame the words: “There he is again!” + </p> + <p> + A moment later Mrs. Bernauer would have been glad to have recalled her + exclamation, but it was too late. + </p> + <p> + Muller bowed before her and asked: “‘There he is again,’ you said; have + you ever seen me before?” + </p> + <p> + The woman looked at him as if hypnotised and answered almost in a whisper: + “I saw you Tuesday morning for the first time, Tuesday morning when the + family were going away. Then I saw you pass through our street twice again + that same day. This morning you went past the garden gate and now I find + you here. What-what is it you want of us?” + </p> + <p> + “I will tell you what I want, Mrs. Bernauer, but first I want to speak to + you alone. Mr. Franz doesn’t mind leaving us for a while, does he?” + </p> + <p> + “But why?” said the old man hesitatingly. He didn’t understand at all what + was going on and he would much rather have remained. + </p> + <p> + “Because I came here for the special purpose of speaking to Mrs. + Bernauer,” replied Muller calmly. + </p> + <p> + “Then you didn’t come on account of the dog?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I didn’t come on account of the dog.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you—you lied to me?” + </p> + <p> + “Partly.” + </p> + <p> + “And you’re no veterinary?” + </p> + <p> + “No—I can help your dog, but I am not a veterinary and never have + been.” + </p> + <p> + “What are you then?” + </p> + <p> + “I will tell Mrs. Bernauer who and what I am when you are outside—outside + in the courtyard there. You can walk about in the garden if you want to, + or else go and get some simple purgative for this dog. That is all he + needs; he has been over-fed.” + </p> + <p> + Franz was quite bewildered. These new developments promised to be + interesting and he was torn between his desire to know more, and his + doubts as to the propriety of leaving the housekeeper with this queer + stranger. He hesitated until the woman herself motioned to him to go. He + went out into the hall, then into the courtyard, watched by the two in the + room who stood silently in the window until they saw the butler pass down + into the garden. Then they looked at each other. + </p> + <p> + “You belong to the police?” asked Adele Bernauer finally with a deep sigh. + </p> + <p> + “That was a good guess,” replied Muller with an ironic smile, adding: “All + who have any reason to fear us are very quick in recognising us.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean by that?” she exclaimed with a start. “What are you + thinking of?” + </p> + <p> + “I am thinking about the same thing that you are thinking of—that I + have proved you are thinking of—the same thing that drove you out + into the street yesterday and this morning to buy the papers. These papers + print news which is interesting many people just now, and some people a + great deal. I am thinking of the same thing that was evidently in your + thoughts as you peered out of the garden gate this morning, although you + would not come out into the street. I know that you do not read even one + newspaper regularly. I know also that yesterday and today you bought a + great many papers, apparently to get every possible detail about a certain + subject. Do you deny this?” + </p> + <p> + She did not deny it, she did not answer at all. She sank down on a chair, + her wide staring eyes looking straight ahead of her, and trembling so that + the old chair cracked underneath her weight. But this condition did not + last long. The woman had herself well under control. Muller’s coming, or + something else, perhaps, may have overwhelmed her for a moment, but she + soon regained her usual self-possession. + </p> + <p> + “Still you have not told me what you want here,” she began coldly, and as + he did not answer she continued: “I have a feeling that you are watching + us. I had this feeling when I saw you the first time and noticed then—pardon + my frankness—that you stared at us sharply while we were saying + goodbye to our master and mistress. Then I saw you pass twice again + through the street and look up at our windows. This morning I find you at + our garden gate and now—you will pardon me if I tell the exact truth—now + you have wormed yourself in here under false pretenses because you have no + right whatever to force an entrance into this house. And I ask you again, + what do you want here?” + </p> + <p> + Muller was embarrassed. That did not happen very often. Also it did not + happen very often that he was in the wrong as he was now. The woman was + absolutely right. He had wormed himself into the house under false + pretenses to follow up the new clue which almost unconsciously as yet was + leading him on with a stronger and stronger attraction. He could not have + explained it and he certainly was not ready to say anything about it at + police headquarters, even at the risk of being obliged to continue to + enter this mysterious house under false pretenses and to be told that he + was doing so. Of course this sort of thing was necessary in his business, + it was the only way in which he could follow up the criminals. + </p> + <p> + But there was something in this woman’s words that cut into a sensitive + spot and drove the blood to his cheeks. There was something in the bearing + and manner of this one-time nurse that impressed him, although he was not + a man to be lightly impressed. He had a feeling that he had made a fool of + himself and it bothered him. For a moment he did not know what he should + say to this woman who stood before him with so much quiet energy in her + bearing. But the something in his brain, the something that made him what + he was, whispered to him that he had done right, and that he must follow + up the trail he had found. That gave him back his usual calm. + </p> + <p> + He took up his hat, and standing before the pale-faced woman, looking her + firmly in the eyes, he said: “It is true that I have no right as yet to + force my way into your house, therefore I have been obliged to enter it as + best I could. I have done this often in my work, but I do it for the + safety of society. And those who reproach me for doing it are generally + those whom I have been obliged to persecute in the name of the law. Mrs. + Bernauer, I will confess that there are moments in which I feel ashamed + that I have chosen this profession that compels me to hunt down human + beings. But I do not believe that this is one of those moments. You have + read this morning’s papers; you must know, therefore, that a man has been + arrested and accused of the murder which interests you so much; you must + be able to realise the terror and anxiety which are now filling this man’s + heart. For to-day’s papers—I have read them myself—expressed + the public sentiment that the police may succeed in convicting this man of + the crime, that the death may be avenged and justice have her due. Several + of these papers, the papers I know you have bought and presumably read, do + not doubt that Johann Knoll is the murderer of Leopold Winkler. + </p> + <p> + “Now there are at least two people who do not believe that Knoll is the + murderer. I am one of them, and you, Mrs. Bernauer, you are the other. I + am going now and when I come again, as I doubtless will come again, I will + come with full right to enter this house. I acknowledge frankly that I + have no justification in causing your arrest as yet, but you are quite + clever enough to know that if I had the faintest justification I would not + leave here alone. And one thing more I have to say. You may not know that + I have had the most extraordinary luck in my profession, that in more than + a hundred cases there have been but two where the criminal I was hunting + escaped me. And now, Mrs. Bernauer, I will bid you good day.” + </p> + <p> + Muller stepped towards the window and motioned to Franz, who was walking + up and down outside. The old man ran to the door and met the detective in + the hall. + </p> + <p> + “You’d better go in and look after Mrs. Bernauer,” said the latter, “I can + find my way out alone.” + </p> + <p> + Franz looked after him, shaking his head in bewilderment and then entered + his own room. “Merciful God!” he exclaimed, bending down in terror over + the housekeeper, who lay on the floor. In his shock and bewilderment he + imagined that she too had been murdered, until he realised that it was + only a swoon from which she recovered in a moment. He helped her regain + her feet and she looked about as if still dazed, stammering: “Has he + gone?” + </p> + <p> + “The strange man? ... Yes, he went some time ago. But what happened to + you? Did he give you something to make you faint? Do you think he was a + thief?” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Bernauer shook her head and murmured: “Oh, no, quite the contrary.” A + remark which did not enlighten Franz particularly as to the status of the + man who had just left them. There was a note of fear in the housekeepers’s + voice and she added hastily: “Does any one besides ourselves know that he + was here?” + </p> + <p> + “No, Lizzie and the cook are in the kitchen talking about the murder.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Bernauer shivered again and went slowly out of the room and up the + stairs. + </p> + <p> + If Franz believed that the stranger had left the house by the front + entrance he was very much mistaken. When Muller found himself alone in the + corridor he turned quickly and hurried out into the garden. None of the + servants had seen him. Lizzie and the cook were engaged in an earnest + conversation in the kitchen and Franz was fully occupied with Mrs. + Bernauer. The gardener was away and his wife busy at her wash tubs. No one + was aware, therefore, that Muller spent about ten minutes wandering about + the garden, and ten minutes were quite sufficient for him to become so + well acquainted with the place that he could have drawn a map of it. He + left the garden through the rear gate, the latch of which he was obliged + to leave open. The gardener’s wife found it that way several hours later + and was rather surprised thereat. Muller walked down the street rapidly + and caught a passing tramway. His mood was not of the best, for he could + not make up his mind whether or no this morning had been a lost one. His + mind sorted and rearranged all that he knew or could imagine concerning + Mrs. Bernauer. But there was hardly enough of these facts to reassure him + that he was not on a false trail, that he had not allowed himself to waste + precious hours all because he had seen a woman’s haggard face appear for a + moment at the little gate in the quiet street. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII. JOHANN KNOLL REMEMBERS SOMETHING ELSE + </h2> + <p> + Muller’s goal was the prison where Johann Knoll was awaiting his fate. The + detective had permission to see the man as often as he wished to. Knoll + had been proven a thief, but the accusation of murder against him had not + been strengthened by anything but the most superficial circumstantial + evidence, therefore it was necessary that Muller should talk with him in + the hope of discovering something more definite. + </p> + <p> + Knoll lay asleep on his cot as the detective and the warder entered the + cell. Muller motioned the attendant to leave him alone with the prisoner + and he stood beside the cot looking down at the man. The face on the hard + pillow was not a very pleasant one to look at. The skin was roughened and + swollen and had that brown-purple tinge which comes from being constantly + in the open air, and from habitual drinking. The weather-beaten look may + be seen often in the faces of men whose honest work keeps them out of + doors; but this man had not earned his colouring honestly, for he was one + of the sort who worked only from time to time when it was absolutely + necessary and there was no other way of getting a penny. His hands proved + this, for although soiled and grimy they had soft, slender fingers which + showed no signs of a life of toil. But even a man who has spent forty + years in useless idling need not be all bad. There must have been some + good left in this man or he could not have lain there so quietly, + breathing easily, wrapped in a slumber as undisturbed as that of a child. + It did not seem possible that any man could lie there like that with the + guilt of murder on his conscience, or even with the knowledge in his soul + that he had plundered a corpse. + </p> + <p> + Muller had never believed the first to be the case, but he had thought it + possible that Knoll knew perfectly well that it was a lifeless body he was + robbing. He had believed it at least until the moment when he stood + looking down at the sleeping tramp. Now, with the deep knowledge of the + human heart which was his by instinct and which his profession had + increased a thousand-fold, Muller knew that this man before him had no + heavy crime upon his conscience—that it was really as he had said—that + he had taken the watch and purse from one whom he believed to be + intoxicated only. Of course it was not a very commendable deed for which + the tramp was now in prison, but it was slight in comparison to the crimes + of which he was suspected. + </p> + <p> + Muller bent lower over the unconscious form and was surprised to see a + gentle smile spread over the face before him. It brightened and changed + the coarse rough face and gave it for a moment a look of almost child-like + innocence. Somewhere within the coarsened soul there must be a spot of + brightness from which such a smile could come. + </p> + <p> + But the face grew ugly again as Knoll opened his eyes and looked up. He + shook off the clouds of slumber as he felt Muller’s hand on his shoulder + and raised himself to a sitting position, grumbling: “Can’t I have any + rest? Are they going to question me again? I’m getting tired of this. I’ve + said everything I know anyhow.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps not everything. Perhaps you will answer a few of my questions + when I tell you that I believe the story you told us yesterday, and that I + want to be your friend and help you.” + </p> + <p> + Knoll’s little eyes glanced up without embarrassment at the man who spoke + to him. They were sharp eyes and had a certain spark of intelligence in + them. Muller had noticed that yesterday, and he saw it again now. But he + saw also the gleam of distrust in these eyes, a distrust which found + expression in Knoll’s next words. “You think you can catch me with your + good words, but you’re makin’ a mistake. I’ve got nothin’ new to say. And + you needn’t think that you can blind me, I know you’re one of the police, + and I’m not going to say anything at all.” + </p> + <p> + “Just as you like. I was trying to help you, I believe I really could help + you. I have just come from Hietzing—but of course if you don’t want + to talk to me—” Muller shrugged his shoulders and turned toward the + door. + </p> + <p> + But before he reached it Knoll stood at his side. “You really mean to help + me?” he gasped. + </p> + <p> + “I do,” said the detective calmly. + </p> + <p> + “Then swear, on your mother’s soul—or is your mother still alive?” + </p> + <p> + “No, she has been dead some time.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, will you swear it?” + </p> + <p> + “Would you believe an oath like that?” + </p> + <p> + “Why shouldn’t I?” + </p> + <p> + “With the life you’ve been leading?” + </p> + <p> + “My life’s no worse than a lot of others. Stealing those things on Monday + was the worst thing I’ve done yet. Will you swear?” + </p> + <p> + “Is it something so very important you have to tell me?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I ain’t got nothin’ at all new to tell you. But I’d just like to know—in + this black hole I’ve got into—I’d just like to know that there’s one + human being who means well with me—I’d like to know that there’s one + man in the world who don’t think I’m quite good-for-nothin’.” + </p> + <p> + The tramp covered his face with his hands and gave a heart-rending sob. + Deep pity moved the detective’s breast. He led Knoll back to his cot, and + put both hands on his shoulders, saying gravely: “I believe that this + theft was the worst thing you have done. By my mother’s salvation, Knoll, + I believe your words and I will try to help you.” + </p> + <p> + Knoll raised his head, looking up at Muller with a glance of unspeakable + gratitude. With trembling lips he kissed the hand which a moment before + had pressed kindly on his shoulder, clinging fast to it as if he could not + bear to let it go. Muller was almost embarrassed. “Oh, come now, Knoll, + don’t be foolish. Pull yourself together and answer my questions + carefully, for I am asking you these questions more for your own sake than + for anything else.” + </p> + <p> + The tramp nodded and wiped the tears from his face. He looked almost happy + again, and there was a softness in his eyes that showed there was + something in the man which might be saved and which was worth saving. + </p> + <p> + Muller sat beside him on the cot and began: “There was one mistake in your + story yesterday. I want you to think it over carefully. You said that you + saw first a woman and then a man going through the neighbouring garden. I + believe that one or both of these people is the criminal for whom we are + looking. Therefore, I want you to try and remember everything that you can + connect with them, every slightest detail. Anything that you can tell us + may be of the greatest importance. Therefore, think very carefully.” + </p> + <p> + Knoll sat still a few moments, evidently trying hard to put his hazy + recollections into useful form and shape. But it was also evident that + orderly thinking was an unusual work for him, and he found it almost too + difficult. “I guess you better ask me questions, maybe that’ll go,” he + said after a pause. + </p> + <p> + Then Muller began to question. With his usual thoroughness he began at the + very beginning: “When was it that you climbed the fence to get into the + shed?” + </p> + <p> + “It just struck nine o’clock when I put my foot on the lowest bar.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure of that?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite sure. I counted every stroke. You see, I wanted to know how long + the night was going to be, seein’ I’d have to sleep in that shed. I was in + the garden just exactly an hour. I came out of the shed as it struck ten + and it wasn’t but a few minutes before I was in the street again.” + </p> + <p> + “And when was it that you saw the woman in the garden next door?” + </p> + <p> + “H’m, I don’t just know when that was. I’d been in on the bench quite a + while.” + </p> + <p> + “And the man? When did you see the man?” + </p> + <p> + “He came past a few minutes after the woman had gone towards the little + house in the garden.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! there you see, that’s where you made your mistake. It is more than + likely that these two did not go to the little house, but that they went + somewhere else. Did they walk slowly and quietly?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a bit of it. They ran almost... Went past as quick as a bat in the + night.” + </p> + <p> + “Then they both appeared to be in a hurry?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes indeed they did.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, ha, you see! Now when any one’s in a hurry he doesn’t go the longest + way round, as a rule. And it would have been the longest way round for + these two people to go from the big house to the gardener’s cottage—for + the little house you saw was the gardener’s cottage. There is tall thick + hedge that starts from the main building and goes right down through the + garden, quite a distance past the gardener’s cottage. The vegetable garden + is on the left side of this hedge and in the middle of the vegetable + garden is the gardener’s cottage. But you could have seen the man and the + woman only because they passed down the right side of the hedge, and this + would have given them a detour of fifty paces or more to reach the + gardener’s house. Nov do you think that two people who were very much in a + hurry would have gone down the right side of the hedge, to reach a place + which they could have gotten to much quicker on the left side?” + </p> + <p> + “No, that would have been a fool thing to do.” + </p> + <p> + “And you are quite sure that these people were in a hurry?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s dead sure. I scarcely saw them before they’d gone again.” + </p> + <p> + “And you didn’t see them come back?” + </p> + <p> + “No, at least I didn’t pay any further attention to them. When I thought + it wouldn’t be any good to look about in there I turned around and dozed + off.” + </p> + <p> + “And it was during this dozing that you thought you heard the shot?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, that’s right.” + </p> + <p> + “And you didn’t notice anything else? You didn’t hear anything else.” + </p> + <p> + “No, nothin’ at all, there was so much noise anyway. There was a high wind + that night and the trees were rattling and creaking.” + </p> + <p> + “And you didn’t see anything else, anything that attracted your + attention?” + </p> + <p> + “No, nothing—” Knoll did not finish his sentence, but began another + instead. He had suddenly remembered something which had seemed to him of + no importance before. “There was a light that went out suddenly.” + </p> + <p> + “Where?” + </p> + <p> + “In the side of the house that I could see from my place. There was a lamp + in the last window of the second story, a lamp with a red shade. That lamp + went out all at once.” + </p> + <p> + “Was the window open?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “There was a strong wind that night, might not the wind have blown the + lamp out?” + </p> + <p> + “No, that wasn’t it,” said Knoll, rising hastily. + </p> + <p> + “Well, how was it?” asked Muller calmly. + </p> + <p> + “A hand put out the lamp.” + </p> + <p> + “Whose hand?” + </p> + <p> + “I couldn’t see that. The light was so low on account of the shade that I + couldn’t see the person who stood there.” + </p> + <p> + “And you don’t know whether it was a man or a woman?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I just saw a hand, more like a shadow it was.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it doesn’t matter much anyway. It was after nine o’clock and many + people go to bed about that time,” said Muller, who did not see much value + in this incident. + </p> + <p> + But Knoll shook his head. “The person who put out that light didn’t go to + bed, at least not right away,” he said eagerly. “I looked over after a + while to the place where the red light was and I saw something else.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what was it you saw?” + </p> + <p> + “The window had been closed.” + </p> + <p> + “Who closed it? Didn’t you see the person that time? The moonlight lay + full on the house.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, when there weren’t any clouds. But there was a heavy cloud over the + moon just then and when it came out again the window was shut and there + was a white curtain drawn in front of it.” + </p> + <p> + “How could you see that?” + </p> + <p> + “I could see it when the lamp was lit again.” + </p> + <p> + “Then the lamp was lit again?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I could see the red light behind the curtain.” + </p> + <p> + “And what happened then?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing more then, except that the man went through the garden.” + </p> + <p> + Muller rose now and took up his hat. He was evidently excited and Knoll + looked at him uneasily. “You’re goin’ already?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I have a great deal to do to-day,” replied the detective and nodded + to the prisoner as he knocked on the door. “I am glad you remembered + that,” he added, “it will be of use to us, I think.” + </p> + <p> + The warder opened the door, let Muller out, and the heavy iron portal + clanged again between Knoll and freedom. + </p> + <p> + Muller was quite satisfied with the result of his visit to the accused. He + hurried to the nearest cab stand and entered one of the carriages waiting + there. He gave the driver Mrs. Klingmayer’s address. It was about two + o’clock in the afternoon now and Muller had had nothing to eat yet. But he + was quite unaware of the fact as his mind was so busy that no mere + physical sensation could divert his attention for a moment. Muller never + seemed to need sleep or food when he was on the trail, particularly not in + the fascinating first stages of the case when it was his imagination + alone, catching at trifles unnoticed by others, combining them in masterly + fashion to an ordered whole, that first led the seekers to the truth. Now + he went over once more all the little apparently trivial incidents that + had caused him first to watch the Thorne household and then had drawn his + attention, and his suspicion, to Adele Bernauer. It was the broken willow + twig that had first drawn his attention to the old garden next the Thorne + property. This twig, this garden, and perhaps some one who could reach his + home again, unseen and unendangered through this garden—might not + this have something to do with the murder? + </p> + <p> + The breaking of the twig was already explained. It was Johann Knoll who + had stepped on it. But he had not climbed the wall at all, had only crept + along it looking for a night’s shelter. And there was no connection + between Knoll and the people who lived in the Thorne house. Muller had not + the slightest doubt that the tramp had told the entire truth that day and + the day preceding. + </p> + <p> + Then the detective’s mind went back to the happenings of Tuesday morning. + The little twig had first drawn his attention to the Thorne estate and the + people who lived there. He had seen the departure of the young couple and + had passed the house again that afternoon and the following day, drawn to + it as if by a magnet. He had not been able then to explain what it was + that attracted him; there had been nothing definite in his mind as he + strolled past the old mansion. But his repeated appearance had been + noticed by some one—by one person only—the housekeeper. Why + should she have noticed it? Had she any reason for believing that she + might be watched? People with an uneasy conscience are very apt to connect + even perfectly natural trivial circumstances with their own doings. Adele + Bernauer had evidently connected Muller’s repeated passing with something + that concerned herself even before the detective had thought of her at + all. + </p> + <p> + Muller had not noticed her until he had seen her peculiar conduct that + very morning. When he heard Franz’s words and saw how disturbed the woman + was, he asked himself: “Why did this woman want to be shown the spot of + the murder? Didn’t she know that place, living so near it, as well as any + of the many who stood there staring in morbid curiosity? Did she ask to + have it shown her that the others might believe she had nothing whatever + to do with the occurrences that had happened there? Or was she drawn + thither by that queer attraction that brings the criminal back to the + scene of his crime?” + </p> + <p> + The sudden vision of Mrs. Bernauer’s head at the garden gate, and its + equally sudden disappearance had attracted Muller’s attention and his + thoughts to the woman. What he had been able to learn about her had + increased his suspicions and her involuntary exclamation when she met him + face to face in the house had proved beyond a doubt that there was + something on her mind. His open accusation, her demeanour, and finally her + swoon, were all links in the chain of evidence that this woman knew + something about the murder in the quiet lane. + </p> + <p> + With this suspicion in his mind what Muller had learned from Knoll was of + great value to him, at all events of great interest. Was it the + housekeeper who had put out the light? For now Muller did not doubt for a + moment that this sudden extinguishing of the lamp was a signal. He + believed that Knoll had seen clearly and that he had told truly what he + had seen. A lamp that is blown out by the wind flickers uneasily before + going out. A sudden extinguishing of the light means human agency. And the + lamp was lit again a few moments afterward and burned on steadily as + before. A short time after the lamp had been put out the man had been seen + going through the garden. And it could not have been much later before the + shot was heard. This shot had been fired between the hours of nine and + ten, for it was during this hour only that Knoll was in the garden house + and heard the shot. But it was not necessary to depend upon the tramp’s + evidence alone to determine the exact hour of the shot. It must have been + before half past nine, or otherwise the janitor of No.1, who came home at + that hour and lay awake so long, would undoubtedly have heard a shot fired + so near his domicile, in spite of the noise occasioned by the high wind. + There would have been sufficient time for Mrs. Bernauer to have reached + the place of the murder between the putting out of the lamp and the firing + of the shot. But perhaps she may have rested quietly in her room; she may + have been only the inciter or the accomplice of the deed. But at all + events, she knew something about it, she was in some way connected with + it. + </p> + <p> + Muller drew a deep breath. He felt much easier now that he had arranged + his thoughts and marshalled in orderly array all the facts he had already + gathered. There was nothing to do now but to follow up a given path step + by step and he could no longer reproach himself that he might have cast + suspicion on an innocent soul. No, his bearing towards Mrs. Bernauer had + not been sheer brutality. His instinct, which had led him so unerringly so + many times, had again shown him the right way when he had thrust the + accusation in her face. + </p> + <p> + Now that his mind was easier he realised that he was very hungry. He drove + to a restaurant and ordered a hasty meal. + </p> + <p> + “Beer, sir?” asked the waiter for the third time. + </p> + <p> + “No,” answered Muller, also for the third time. + </p> + <p> + “Then you’ll take wine, sir?” asked the insistent Ganymede. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, go to the devil! When I want anything I’ll ask for it,” growled the + detective, this time effectively scaring the waiter. It did not often + happen that a customer refused drinks, but then there were not many + customers who needed as clear a head as Muller knew he would have to have + to-day. Always a light drinker, it was one of his rules never to touch a + drop of liquor during this first stage of the mental working out of any + new problem which presented itself. But soft-hearted as he was, he + repented of his irritation a moment later and soothed the waiter’s wounded + feelings by a rich tip. The boy ran out to open the cab door for his + strange customer and looked after him, wondering whether the man was a + cranky millionaire or merely a poet. For Joseph Muller, by name and by + reputation one of the best known men in Vienna, was by sight unknown to + all except the few with whom he had to do on the police force. His + appearance, in every way inconspicuous, and the fact that he never sought + acquaintance with any one, was indeed of the greatest possible assistance + to him in his work. Many of those who saw him several times in a day would + pass him or look him full in the face without recognising him. It was + only, as in the case of Mrs. Bernauer, the guilty conscience that + remembered face and figure of this quiet-looking man who was one of the + most-feared servants of the law in Austria. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX. THE ELECTRICIAN + </h2> + <p> + When Muller reached the house where Mrs. Klingmayer lived he ordered the + cabman to wait and hurried up to the widow’s little apartment. He had the + key to Leopold Winkler’s room in his own pocket, for Mrs. Klingmayer had + given this key to Commissioner von Riedau at the latter’s request and the + commissioner had given it to Muller. The detective told the good woman not + to bother about him as he wanted to make an examination of the place + alone. Left to himself in the little room, Muller made a thorough search + of it, opening the cupboard, the bureau drawers, every possible receptacle + where any article could be kept or hidden. What he wanted to find was some + letter, some bit of paper, some memoranda perhaps, anything that would + show any connection existing between the murdered man and Mrs. Bernauer, + who lived so near the place where this man had died and who was so greatly + interested in his murder. + </p> + <p> + The detective’s search was not quite in vain, although he could not tell + yet whether what he had found would be of any value. Leopold Winkler had + had very little correspondence, or else he had had no reason to keep the + letters he received. Muller found only about a half dozen letters in all. + Three of them were from women of the half-world, giving dates for + meetings. Another was written by a man and signed “Theo.” This “Theo” + appeared to be the same sort of a cheap rounder that Winkler was. And he + seemed to have sunk one grade deeper than the dead man, in spite of the + latter’s bad reputation. For this other addressed Winkler as his “Dear + Friend” and pleaded with him for “greater discretion,” alluding evidently + to something which made this discretion necessary. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder what rascality it was that made these two friends?” murmured + Muller, putting Theo’s letter with the three he had already read. But + before he slipped it in his pocket he glanced at the postmark. The letters + of the three women had all been posted from different quarters of the city + some months ago. Theo’s letter was postmarked “Marburg,” and dated on the + 1st of September of the present year. + </p> + <p> + Then Muller looked at the postmark of the two remaining letters which he + had not yet read, and whistled softly to himself. Both these letters were + posted from a certain station in Hietzing, the station which was nearest + his own lodgings and also nearest the Thorne house. He looked at the + postmark more sharply. They both bore the dates of the present year, one + of them being stamped “March 17th,” the other “September 24th.” This last + letter interested the detective most. + </p> + <p> + Muller was not of a nervous disposition, but his hand trembled slightly as + he took the letter from its envelope. It was clear that this letter had + been torn open hastily, for the edges of the opening were jagged and + uneven. + </p> + <p> + When the detective had read the letter—it contained but a few lines + and bore neither address nor signature—he glanced over it once more + as if to memorise the words. They were as follows: “Do not come again. In + a day or two I will be able to do what I have to do. I will send you later + news to your office. Impatience will not help you.”—These words were + written hastily on a piece of paper that looked as if it had been torn + from a pad. In spite of the haste the writer had been at some pains to + disguise the handwriting. But it was a clumsy disguise, done by one not + accustomed to such tricks, and it was evidently done by a woman. All she + had known how to do to disguise her writing had been to twist and turn the + paper while writing, so that every letter had a different position. The + letters were also made unusually long. This peculiarity of the writing was + seen on both letters and both envelopes. The earlier letter was still + shorter and seemed to have been written with the same haste, and with the + same disgust, or perhaps even hatred, for the man to whom it was written. + </p> + <p> + “Come to-morrow, but not before eight o’clock. He has gone away. God + forgive him and you.” This was the contents of the letter of the 17th of + March. That is, the writer had penned the letter this way. But the last + two words, “and you,” had evidently not come from her heart, for she had + annulled them by a heavy stroke of the pen. A stroke that seemed like a + knife thrust, so full of rage and hate it was. + </p> + <p> + “So he was called to a rendezvous in Hietzing, too,” murmured Muller, then + he added after a few moments: “But this rendezvous had nothing whatever to + do with love.” + </p> + <p> + There was nothing else in Winkler’s room which could be of any value to + Muller in the problem that was now before him. And yet he was very well + satisfied with the result of his errand. + </p> + <p> + He entered his cab again, ordering the driver to take him to Hietzing. + Just before he had reached the corner where he had told the man to stop, + another cab passed them, a coupe, in which was a solitary woman. Muller + had just time enough to recognise this woman as Adele Bernauer, and to see + that she looked even more haggard and miserable than she had that morning. + She did not look up as the other cab passed her carriage, therefore she + did not see Muller. The detective looked at his watch and saw that it was + almost half-past four. The unexpected meeting changed his plans for the + afternoon. He had decided that he must enter the Thorne mansion again that + very day, for he must find out the meaning of the red-shaded lamp. And now + that the housekeeper was away it would be easier for him to get into the + house, therefore it must be done at once. His excuse was all ready, for he + had been weighing possibilities. He dismissed his cab a block from his own + home and entered his house cautiously. + </p> + <p> + Muller’s lodgings consisted of two large rooms, really much too large for + a lone man who was at home so little. But Muller had engaged them at first + sight, for the apartment possessed one qualification which was absolutely + necessary for him. Its situation and the arrangement of its doors made it + possible for him to enter and leave his rooms without being seen either by + his own landlady or by the other lodgers in the house. The little + apartment was on the ground floor, and Muller’s own rooms had a separate + entrance opening on to the main corridor almost immediately behind the + door. Nine times out of ten, he could come and go without being seen by + any one in the house. To-day was the first time, however, that Muller had + had occasion to try this particular qualification of his new lodgings. + </p> + <p> + He opened the street door and slipped into his own room without having + seen or been seen by any one. + </p> + <p> + Fifteen minutes later he left the apartment again, but left it such a + changed man that nobody who had seen him go in would have recognised him. + Before he came out, however, he looked about carefully to see whether + there was any one in sight He came out unseen and was just closing the + main door behind him, when he met the janitress. + </p> + <p> + “Were you looking for anybody in the house?” said the woman, glancing + sharply at the stranger, who answered in a slightly veiled voice: “No, I + made a mistake in the number. The place I am looking for is two houses + further down.” + </p> + <p> + He walked down the street and the woman looked after him until she saw him + turn into the doorway of the second house. Then she went into her own + rooms. The house Muller entered happened to be a corner house with an + entrance on the other street, through which the detective passed and went + on his way. He was quite satisfied with the security of his disguise, for + the woman who knew him well had not recognised him at all. If his own + janitress did not know him, the people in the Thorne house would never + imagine it was he. + </p> + <p> + And indeed Muller was entirely changed. In actuality small and thin, with + sparse brown hair and smooth shaven face, he was now an inch or two taller + and very much stouter. He wore thick curly blond hair, a little pointed + blond beard and moustache. His eyes were hidden by heavy-rimmed + spectacles. + </p> + <p> + It was just half-past five when he rang the bell at the entrance gate to + the Thorne property. He had spent the intervening time in the cafe, as he + was in no hurry to enter the house. Franz came down the path and opened + the door. “‘What do you want?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “I come from Siemens & Halske; I was to ask whether the other man—” + </p> + <p> + “Has been here already?” interrupted Franz, adding in an irritated tone, + “No, he hasn’t been here at all.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I guess he didn’t get through at the other place in time. I’ll see + what the trouble is,” said the stranger, whom Franz naturally supposed to + be the electrician, he opened the gate and asked the other to come in, + leading him into the house. Under a cloudy sky the day was fading rapidly. + Muller knew that it would not occur to the real electrician to begin any + work as late as this, and that he was perfectly safe in the examination he + wanted to make. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what’s the trouble here? Why did you write to our firm?” asked the + supposed electrician. + </p> + <p> + “The wires must cross somewhere, or there’s something wrong with the + bells. When the housekeeper touches the button in her room to ring for the + cook or the upstairs girl, the bell rings in Mr. Thorne’s room. It starts + ringing and it keeps up with a deuce of a noise. Fortunately the family + are away.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, we’ll fix it all right for you. First of all I want to look at the + button in the housekeeper’s room.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll take you up there,” said Franz. + </p> + <p> + They walked through the wide corridor, then turned into a shorter, darker + hall and went up a narrow winding stairway. Franz halted before a door in + the second story. It was the last of the three doors in the hall. Muller + took off his hat as the door opened and murmured a “good-evening.” + </p> + <p> + “There’s no one there; Mrs. Bernauer’s out.” + </p> + <p> + “Has she gone away, too?” asked the electrician hastily. + </p> + <p> + Franz did not notice that there was a slight change in the stranger’s + voice at this question, and he answered calmly as ever: “Oh, no; she’s + just driven to town. I think she went to see the doctor who lives quite a + distance away. She hasn’t been feeling at all well. She took a cab to-day. + I told her she ought to, as she wasn’t well enough to go by the tram. She + ought to be home any moment now.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I’ll hurry up with the job so that I’ll be out of the way when the + lady comes,” said Muller, as Franz led him to the misbehaving bell. + </p> + <p> + It was in the wall immediately above a large table which filled the window + niche so completely that there was but scant space left for the + comfortable armchair that stood in front of it. The window was open and + Muller leaned out, looking down at the garden below. + </p> + <p> + “What a fine old garden!” he exclaimed aloud. To himself he said: “This is + the last window in the left wing. It is the window where Johann Knoll saw + the red light.” + </p> + <p> + And when he turned back into the room again he found the source of this + light right at his hand on the handsome old table at which Mrs. Bernauer + evidently spent many of her hours. A row of books stood against the wall, + framing the back of the table. Well-worn volumes of the classics among + them gave proof that the one-time nurse was a woman of education. A sewing + basket and neat piles of house linen, awaiting repairs, covered a large + part of the table-top, and beside them stood a gracefully shaped lamp, + covered by a shade of soft red silk. + </p> + <p> + It took Muller but a few seconds to see all this. Then he set about his + investigation of the electric button. He unscrewed the plate and examined + the wires meeting under it. While doing so he cast another glance at the + table and saw a letter lying there, an open letter half out of its + envelope. This envelope was of unusual shape, long and narrow, and the + paper was heavy and high-glossed. + </p> + <p> + “Your housekeeper evidently has no secrets from the rest of you,” Muller + remarked with a laugh, still busy at the wires, “or she wouldn’t leave her + letters lying about like that.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, we’ve all heard what’s in that letter,” replied Franz. “She read it + to us when it came this morning. It’s from the Madam. She sent messages to + all of us and orders, so Mrs. Bernauer read us the whole letter. There’s + no secrets in that.” + </p> + <p> + “The button has been pressed in too far and caught down. That seems to be + the main trouble,” said Muller, readjusting the little knob. “I’d like a + candle here if I may have one.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll get you a light at once,” said Franz. But his intentions, however + excellent, seemed difficult of fulfilment. It was rapidly growing dark, + and the old butler peered about uncertainly. “Stupid,” he muttered. “I + don’t know where she keeps the matches. I can’t find them anywhere. I’m + not a smoker, so I haven’t any in my pocket.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor I,” said Muller calmly, letting his hand close protectingly over a + new full box of them in his own pocket. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll get you some from my own room,” and Franz hurried away, his loose + slippers clattering down the stairs. He was no sooner well out of the room + than Muller had the letter in his hand and was standing close by the + window to catch the fading light. But on the old servant’s return the + supposed electrician stood calmly awaiting the coming of the light, and + the letter was back on the table half hidden by a piece of linen. Franz + did not notice that the envelope was missing. And the housekeeper, whose + mind was so upset by the events of the day, and whose thoughts were on + other more absorbing matters, would hardly be likely to remember whether + she had returned this quite unimportant letter to its envelope or not. + </p> + <p> + Franz brought a lighted candle with him, and Muller, who really did + possess a creditable knowledge of electricity, saw that the wires in the + room were all in good condition. As he had seen at first, there was really + nothing the matter except with the position of the button. But it did not + suit his purpose to enlighten Franz on the matter just yet. + </p> + <p> + “Now I’d better look at the wires in the gentleman’s room,” he said, when + he had returned plate and button to their place. + </p> + <p> + “Just as you say,” replied Franz, taking up his candle and leading the way + out into the hall and down the winding stair. They crossed the lower + corridor, mounted another staircase and entered a large, handsomely + furnished room, half studio, half library. The wall was covered with + pictures and sketches, several easels stood piled up in the corner, and a + broad table beside them held paint boxes, colour tubes, brushes, all the + paraphernalia of the painter, now carefully ordered and covered for a term + of idleness. Great bookcases towered to the ceiling, and a huge flat top + desk, a costly piece of furniture, was covered with books and papers. It + was the room of a man of brains and breeding, a man of talent and ability, + possessing, furthermore, the means to indulge his tastes freely. Even now, + with its master absent, the handsome apartment bore the impress of his + personality. The detective’s quick imagination called up the attractive, + sympathetic figure of the man he had seen at the gate, as his quick eye + took in the details of the room. All the charm of Herbert Thorne’s + personality, which the keen-sensed Muller had felt so strongly even in + that fleeting glimpse of him, came back again here in the room which was + his own little kingdom and the expression of his mentality. + </p> + <p> + “Well, what’s the trouble here? Where are the wires?” asked the detective, + after the momentary pause which had followed his entrance into the room. + Franz led him to a spot on the wall hidden by a marquetry cabinet. “Here’s + the bell, it rings for several minutes before it stops.” + </p> + <p> + The light of the candle which the butler held fell upon a portrait hanging + above the cabinet. It was a sketch in water-colours, the life-sized head + of a man who may have been about thirty years old, perhaps, but who had + none of the freshness and vigour of youth. The scanty hair, the sunken + temples, and the faded skin, emphasised the look of dissipation given by + the lines about the sensual mouth and the shifty eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Well, say, can’t your master find anything better to paint than a face + like that?” Muller asked with a laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Goodness me! you mustn’t say such things!” exclaimed Franz in alarm; + “that’s the Madam’s brother. He’s an officer, I’d have you know. It’s + true, he doesn’t look like much there, but that’s because he’s not in + uniform. It makes such a difference.” + </p> + <p> + “Is the lady anything like her brother?” asked the detective + indifferently, bending to examine the wiring. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear, no, not a bit; they’re as different as day and night. He’s only + her half-brother anyway. She was the daughter of the Colonel’s second + wife. Our Madam is the sweetest, gentlest lady you can imagine, an angel + of goodness. But the Lieutenant here has always been a care to his family, + they say. I guess he’s quieted down a bit now, for his father—he’s + Colonel Leining, retired—made him get exchanged from the city to a + small garrison town. There’s nothing much to do in Marburg, I dare say—well! + you are a merry sort, aren’t you?” These last words, spoken in a tone of + surprise, were called forth by a sudden sharp whistle from the detective, + a whistle which went off into a few merry bars. + </p> + <p> + A sudden whistle like that from Muller’s lips was something that made the + Imperial Police Force sit up and take notice, for it meant that things + were happening, and that the happenings were likely to become exciting. It + was a habit he could control only by the severest effort of the will, an + effort which he kept for occasions when it was absolutely necessary. Here, + alone with the harmless old man, he was not so much on his guard, and the + sudden vibrating of every nerve at the word “Marburg,” found vent in the + whistle which surprised old Franz. One young police commissioner with a + fancy for metaphor had likened this sudden involuntary whistle of Muller’s + to the bay of the hound when he strikes the trail; which was about what it + was. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I am merry sometimes,” he said with a laugh. “It’s a habit I have. + Something occurred to me just then, something I had forgotten. Hope you + don’t mind.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, there’s no one here now, whistle all you like.” + </p> + <p> + But Muller’s whistle was not a continuous performance, and he had now + completely mastered the excitation of his nerves which had called it + forth. He threw another sharp look at the picture of the man who lived in + Marburg, and then asked: “And now where is the button?” + </p> + <p> + “By the window there, beside the desk.” Franz led the way with his candle. + </p> + <p> + “Why, how funny! What are those mirrors there for?” asked the electrician + in a tone of surprise, pointing to two small mirrors hanging in the window + niche. They were placed at a height and at such a peculiar angle that no + one could possibly see his face in them. + </p> + <p> + “Something the master is experimenting with, I guess. He’s always making + queer experiments; he knows a lot about scientific things.” + </p> + <p> + Muller shook his head as if in wonderment, and bent to investigate the + button which was fastened into the wall beneath the window sill. His quick + ear heard a carriage stopping in front of the house, and heard the closing + of the front door a moment later. To facilitate his examination of the + button, the detective had seated himself in the armchair which stood + beside the desk. He half raised himself now to let the light of the candle + fall more clearly on the wiring—then he started up altogether and + threw a hasty glance at the mirrors above his head. A ray of light had + suddenly flashed down upon him—a ray of red light, and it came + reflected from the mirrors. Muller bit his lips to keep back the betraying + whistle. + </p> + <p> + “What’s the matter?” asked the butler. “Did you drop anything?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, the wooden rim of the button,” replied Muller, telling the truth + this time. For he had held the little wooden circlet in his hands at the + moment when the red light, reflected down from the mirrors, struck full + upon his eyes. He had dropped it in his surprise and excitement. Franz + found the little ring in the centre of the room where it had rolled, and + the supposed electrician replaced it and rose to his feet, saying: “There, + I’ve finished now.” + </p> + <p> + Franz did not recognise the double meaning in the words. “Yes, it’s all + right! I’ve finished here now,” Muller repeated to himself. For now he + knew beyond a doubt that the red light was a signal—and he knew also + for whom this signal was intended. It was a signal for Herbert Thorne!—Herbert + Thorne, whom no single thought or suspicion of Muller’s had yet connected + with the murder of Leopold Winkler. + </p> + <p> + The detective was very much surprised and greatly excited. But Franz did + not notice it, and indeed a far keener observer than the slow-witted old + butler might have failed to see the sudden gleam which shot up in the grey + eyes behind the heavy spectacles, might have failed to notice the + tightening of the lips beneath the blond moustache, or the tenseness of + the slight frame under the assumed embonpoint. Muller’s every nerve was + tingling, but he had himself completely in hand. + </p> + <p> + “What do we owe you?” asked Franz. + </p> + <p> + “They’ll send you a bill from the office. It won’t amount to much. I must + be getting on now.” + </p> + <p> + Muller hastened out of the door and down the street to the nearest cab + stand. There were not very many cab stands in this vicinity, and the + detective reasoned that Mrs. Bernauer would naturally have taken her cab + from the nearest station. He had heard her return in her carriage, + presumably the same in which she had started out. + </p> + <p> + There was but one cab at the stand. Muller walked to it and laid his hand + on the door. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Jimmy! must I go out again?” asked the driver hoarsely. “Can’t you + see the poor beast is all wet from the last ride? We’ve just come in.” He + pointed with his whip to the tired-looking animal under his blanket. + </p> + <p> + “Why, he does look warm. You must have been making a tour out into the + country,” said the blond gentleman in a friendly tone. + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, not quite so far as that. I’ve just taken a woman to the main + telegraph office in the city and back again. But she was in a hurry and + he’s not a young horse, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, never mind, then; I can get another cab across the bridge,” replied + the stout blond man, turning away and strolling off leisurely in the + direction of the bridge. It was now quite dark, and a few steps further on + Muller could safely turn and take the road to his own lodging. No one saw + him go in, and in a few moments the real Muller, slight, smooth-shaven, + sat down at his desk, looking at the papers that lay before him. They were + three letters and an empty envelope. + </p> + <p> + He took up the last, and compared it carefully with the envelope of one of + the letters found in Winkler’s room—the unsigned letter postmarked + Hietzing, September 24th. The two envelopes were exactly alike. They were + of the same size and shape, made of the same cream-tinted, heavy, glossy + paper, and the address was written by the same hand. This any keen + observer, who need not necessarily be an expert, could see. The same hand + which had addressed the envelope to Mrs. Adele Bernauer on the letter + which was postmarked “Venice,” about thirty-six hours previous—this + hand had, in an awkward and childish attempt at disguise, written + Winkler’s address on the envelope which bore the date of September 24th. + </p> + <p> + The writer of the harmless letter to Mrs. Bernauer, a letter which chatted + of household topics and touched lightly on the beauties of Venice, was + Mrs. Thorne. It was Mrs. Thorne, therefore, who, reluctantly and in anger + and distaste, had called Leopold Winkler to Hietzing, to his death. + </p> + <p> + And whose hand had fired the shot that caused his death? The question, at + this stage in Muller’s meditation, could hardly be called a question any + more. It was all too sadly clear to him now. Winkler met his death at the + hand of the husband, who, discovering the planned rendezvous, had + misunderstood its motive. + </p> + <p> + For truly this had been no lovers’ meeting. It had been a meeting to which + the woman was driven by fear and hate; the man by greed of gain. This was + clearly proved by the 300 guldens found in the dead man’s pocket, money + enclosed in a delicate little envelope, sealed hastily, and crumpled as if + it had been carried in a hot and trembling hand. + </p> + <p> + It was already known that Winkler never had any money except at certain + irregular intervals, when he appeared to have come into possession of + considerable sums. During these days he indulged in extravagant pleasures + and spent his money with a recklessness which proved that he had not + earned it by honest work. + </p> + <p> + Leopold Winkler was a blackmailer. + </p> + <p> + Colonel Leining, retired, the father of two such widely different + children, was doubtless a man of stern principles, and an army officer as + well, therefore a man with a doubly sensitive code of honour and a social + position to maintain; and this man, morbidly sensitive probably, had a + daughter who had inherited his sensitiveness and his high ideals of + honour, a daughter married to a rich husband. But he had another child, a + son without any sense of honour at all, who, although also an officer, + failed to live in a manner worthy his position. This son was now in + Marburg, where there were no expensive pleasures, no all-night cafes and + gambling dens, for a man to lose his time in, his money, and his honour + also. + </p> + <p> + For such must have been the case with Colonel Leining’s son before his + exile to Marburg. The old butler had hinted at the truth. The portrait + drawn by Herbert Thorne, a picture of such technical excellence that it + was doubtless a good likeness also, had given an ugly illustration to + Franz’s remarks. And there was something even more tangible to prove it: + “Theo’s” letter from Marburg pleading with Winkler for “discretion and + silence,” not knowing (“let us hope he did not know!” murmured Muller + between set teeth) that the man who held him in his power because of some + rascality, was being paid for his silence by the Lieutenant’s sister. + </p> + <p> + It is easy to frighten a sensitive woman, so easy to make her believe the + worst! And there is little such a tender-hearted woman will not do to save + her aging father from pain and sorrow, perhaps even disgrace! + </p> + <p> + It must have been in this way that Mrs. Thorne came into the power of the + scoundrel who paid with his life for his last attempt at blackmail. + </p> + <p> + When Muller reached this point in his chain of thought, he closed his eyes + and covered his face with his hands, letting two pictures stand out clear + before his mental vision. + </p> + <p> + He saw the little anxious group around the carriage in front of the Thorne + mansion. He saw the pale, frail woman leaning back on the cushions, and + the husband bending over her in tender care. And then he saw Johann Knoll + in his cell, a man with little manhood left in him, a man sunk to the + level of the brutes, a man who had already committed one crime against + society, and who could never rise to the mental or spiritual standard of + even the most mediocre of decent citizens. + </p> + <p> + If Herbert Thorne were to suffer the just punishment for his deed of + doubly blind jealousy, then it was not only his own life, a life full of + gracious promise, that would be ruined, but the happiness of his delicate, + sweet-faced wife, who was doubtless still in blessed ignorance of what had + happened. And still one other would be dragged down by this tragedy; a + respected, upright man would bow his white hairs in disgrace. Thorne’s + father-in-law could not escape the scandal and his own share in the + responsibility for it. And to a veteran officer, bred in the exaggerated + social ethics of his profession, such a disgrace means ruin, sometimes + even voluntary death. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, dear, if it had only been Knoll who did it,” said Muller with a sigh + that was almost a groan. + </p> + <p> + Then he rose slowly and heavily, and slowly and heavily, as if borne down + by the weight of great weariness, he reached for his hat and coat and left + the house. + </p> + <p> + Whether he wished it or not, he knew it was his duty to go on to the + bitter end on this trail he had followed up all day from the moment that + he caught that fleeting glimpse of Mrs. Bernauer’s haggard face at the + garden gate. He was almost angry with the woman, because she chanced to + look out of the gate at just that moment, showing him her face distorted + with anxiety. For it was her face that had drawn Muller to the trail, a + trail at the end of which misery awaited those for whom this woman had + worked for years, those whom she loved and who treated her as one of the + family. + </p> + <p> + Muller knew now that the one-time nurse was in league with her former + charge; that Thorne and Adele Bernauer were in each other’s confidence; + that the man sat waiting for the signal which she was to give him, a + signal bringing so much disgrace and sorrow in its train. + </p> + <p> + If the woman had not spied upon and betrayed her mistress, this terrible + event, which now weighed upon her own soul, would not have happened. + </p> + <p> + “A faithful servant, indeed,” said Muller, with a harsh laugh. + </p> + <p> + Then maturer consideration came and forced him to acknowledge that it was + indeed devotion that had swayed Adele Bernauer, devotion to her master + more than to her mistress. This was hardly to be wondered at. But she had + not thought what might come from her revelations, what had come of them. + For now her pet, the baby who had once lain in her arms, the handsome, + gifted man whom she adored with more than the love of many a mother for + the child of her own blood, was under the shadow of hideous disgrace and + doom, was the just prey of the law for open trial and condemnation as a + murderer. + </p> + <p> + Muller sighed deeply once more and then came one of those moments which he + had spoken of to the unhappy woman that very day. He felt like cursing the + fatal gift that was his, the gift to see what was hidden from others, this + something within him that forced him relentlessly onward until he had + uncovered the truth, and brought misery to many. + </p> + <p> + Muller need not do anything, he need simply do nothing. Not a soul besides + himself suspected the dwellers in the Thorne mansion of any connection + with the murder. If he were silent, nothing could be proven against Knoll + after all, except the robbery which he himself had confessed. Then the + memory of the terror in the tramp’s little reddened eyes came back to the + detective’s mind. + </p> + <p> + “A human soul after all, and a soul trembling in the shadow of a great + fear. And even he’s a better man than the blackmailer who was killed. A + miscarriage of justice will often make a criminal of a poor fellow whose + worst fault is idleness.” Muller’s face darkened as the things of the + past, shut down in the depths of his own soul, rose up again. “No; that’s + why I took up this work. Justice must be done—but it’s bitter hard + sometimes. I could almost wish now that I hadn’t seen that face at the + gate.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X. MULLER RETURNS TO THE THORNE MANSION + </h2> + <p> + It was striking eight as Muller came out of a cafe in the heart of the + city. He had been in there but a few moments, for his purpose was merely + to look through the Army lists of the current year. The result of his + search proved the correctness of his conclusions. + </p> + <p> + There was a Lieutenant Theobald Leining in the single infantry regiment + stationed at Marburg. + </p> + <p> + Muller took a cab and drove to the main telegraph office. He asked for the + original of the telegram which had been sent that afternoon to the + address; “Herbert Thorne, Hotel Danieli, Venice.” This closed the circle + of the chain. + </p> + <p> + The detective re-entered his waiting cab and drove back to Hietzing. He + told the driver to halt at the corner of the street on which fronted the + Thorne mansion and to wait for him there. He himself walked slowly down + the quiet Street and rang the bell at the iron gate. + </p> + <p> + “You come to this house again?” asked Franz, starting back in alarm when + he saw who it was that had called him to the door. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my good friend; I want to get into this house again. But not on + false pretenses this time. And before you let me in you can go upstairs + and ask Mrs. Bernauer if she will receive me in her own room—in her + own room, mind. But make haste; I am in a hurry.” The detective’s tone was + calm and he strolled slowly up and down in front of the gate when he had + finished speaking. + </p> + <p> + The old butler hesitated a moment, then walked into the house. When he + returned, rather more quickly, he looked alarmed and his tone was very + humble as he asked Muller to follow him. + </p> + <p> + When the detective entered Mrs. Bernauer’s room the housekeeper rose + slowly from the large armchair in front of her table. She was very pale + and her eyes were full of terror. She made no move to speak, so Muller + began the conversation. He put down his hat, brought up a chair and placed + it near the window at which the housekeeper had been sitting. Then he sat + down and motioned to her to do the same. + </p> + <p> + “You are a faithful servant, all too faithful,” he began. “But you are + faithful only to your master. You have no devotion for his wife.” + </p> + <p> + “You are mistaken,” replied the woman in a low tone. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps, but I do not think so. One does not betray the people to whom + one is devoted.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Bernauer looked up in surprise. “What—what do you know?” she + stammered. + </p> + <p> + Muller did not answer the question directly, but continued: “Mrs. Thorne + had a meeting recently with a strange man. It was not their first meeting, + and somehow you discovered it. But before this last meeting occurred you + spoke to the lady’s husband about it, and it was arranged between you that + you should give him a signal which would mean to him, ‘Your wife is going + to the meeting.’ Mrs. Thorne did go to the meeting. This happened on + Monday evening at about quarter past nine. Some one, who was in the + neighbourhood by chance, saw a woman’s figure hurrying through the garden, + down to the other street, and a moment after this, the light of this lamp + in your window was seen to go out. A hand had turned down the wick—it + was your hand. + </p> + <p> + “This was the signal to Mr. Thorne. The mirrors over his desk reflected in + his eyes the light he could not otherwise have seen as he sat by his own + window. The signal, therefore, told him that the time had come to act. + This same chance watcher, who had seen the woman going through the garden, + had seen the lamp go out, and now saw a man’s figure hurrying down the + path the woman had taken. The man as well as the woman came from this + house and went in the direction of the lower end of the garden. + </p> + <p> + “A little while later a shot was heard, and the next morning Leopold + Winkler was found with a bullet in his back. The crime was generally taken + to be a murder for the sake of robbery. But you and I, and Mr. Herbert + Thorne, know very well that it was not. + </p> + <p> + “You know this since Wednesday noon. Then it was that the idea suddenly + came to you, falling like a heavy weight on your soul, the idea that + Winkler might not have been killed for the sake of robbery, but because of + the hatred that some one bore him. Then it was that you lost your appetite + suddenly, that you drove into the city with the excuse of errands to do, + in order to read the papers without being seen by any one who knew you. + When you came home you searched everywhere in your master’s room: you made + an excuse for this search, but what you wanted to find out was whether he + had left anything that could betray him. Your fright had already confused + your mind. You were searching probably for the weapon from which he had + fired the bullet. You did not realise that he would naturally have taken + it with him and thrown it somewhere into a ravine or river beside the + railway track between here and Venice. How could you think for a moment + that he would leave it behind him, here in his room, or dropped in the + garden? But this was doubtless due to the confusion owing to your sudden + alarm and anxiety—a confusion which prevented you from realising the + danger of the two peculiarly hung mirrors in Mr. Thorne’s room. These + should have been taken away at once. This morning my sudden appearance at + the garden gate prevented you from making an examination of the place of + the murder. Your swoon, after I had spoken to you in the butler’s room, + showed me that you were carrying a burden too heavy for your strength. + Finally, this afternoon, you drove to the main telegraph office in the + city, as you thought that it would be safer to telegraph Mr. Thorne from + there. Your telegram was very cleverly written. But you might have spared + the last sentence, the request that Mr. Thorne should get the Viennese + papers of these last days. Believe me, he has already read these papers. + Who could be more interested in what they have to tell than he?” + </p> + <p> + The housekeeper had sat as if frozen to stone during Muller’s long speech. + Her face was ashen and her eyes wild with horror. When the detective + ceased speaking, there was dead silence in the room for some time. Finally + Muller asked: “Is this what happened?” His voice was cutting and the + glance of his eyes keen and sharp. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Bernauer trembled. Her head sank on her breast. Muller waited a + moment more and then he said quietly: “Then it is true.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it is true,” came the answer in a low hoarse tone. + </p> + <p> + Again there was silence for an appreciable interval. + </p> + <p> + “If you had been faithful to your mistress as well, if you had not spied + upon her and betrayed her to her husband, all this might not have + happened,” continued the detective pitilessly, adding with a bitter smile: + “And it was not even a case of sinful love. Your mistress had no such + relations with this Winkler as you—I say this to excuse you—seemed + to believe.” + </p> + <p> + Adele Bernauer sprang up. “I do not need this excuse,” she cried, + trembling in excitement. “I do not need any excuse. What I have done I did + after due consideration and in the realisation that it was absolutely + necessary to do it. Never for one moment did I believe that my mistress + was untrue to her husband. Never for one moment could I believe such an + evil thing of her, for I knew her to be an angel of goodness. A woman who + is deceiving her husband is not as unhappy as this poor lady has been for + months. A woman does not write to a successful lover with so much sorrow, + with so many tears. I had long suspected these meetings before I + discovered them, but I knew that these meetings had nothing whatever to do + with love. Because I knew this, and only because I knew it, did I tell my + master about them. I wanted him to protect his wife, to free her from the + wretch who had obtained some power over her, I knew not how.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! then that was it?” exclaimed Muller, and his eyes softened as he + looked at the sobbing woman who had sunk back into her chair. He laid his + hand on her cold fingers and continued gently: “Then you have really done + right, you have done only what was your duty. I pity you deeply that you—” + </p> + <p> + “That I have brought suspicion upon my master by my own foolishness?” she + finished the sentence with a pitifully sad smile. “If I could have + controlled myself, could have kept calm, nobody would have had a thought + or a suspicion that he—my pet, my darling—that it was he who + was forced, through some terrible circumstance of which I do not know, to + free his wife, in this manner, from the wretch who persecuted her.” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Bernauer wrung her hands and gazed with despairing eyes at the man + who sat before her, himself deeply moved. + </p> + <p> + Again there was a long silence. Muller could not find a word to comfort + the weeping woman. There was no longer anger in his heart, nothing but the + deepest pity. He took out his handkerchief and wiped away the drops that + were dimming his own eyes. + </p> + <p> + “You know that I will have to go to Venice?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Bernauer sprang up. “Officially?” she gasped, pale to her lips. + </p> + <p> + He nodded. “Yes, officially of course. I must make a report at once to + headquarters about what I have learned. You can imagine yourself what the + next steps will be.” + </p> + <p> + Her deep sigh showed him that she knew as well as he. In the same second, + however, a thought shot through her brain, changing her whole being. Her + pale face glowed, her dulled eyes shot fire, and the fingers with which + she held Muller’s hand tightly clasped, were suddenly feverishly hot. + </p> + <p> + “And you—you are still the only person who knows the truth?” she + gasped in his ear. + </p> + <p> + The detective nodded. “And you thought you might silence me?” he asked + calmly. “That will not be easy—for you can imagine that I did not + come unarmed.” + </p> + <p> + Adele Bernauer smiled sadly. “I would take even this way to save Herbert + Thorne from disgrace, if I thought that it could be successful, and if I + had not thought of a milder way to silence a man who cannot be a + millionaire. I have served in this house for thirty-two years, I have been + treated with such generosity that I have been able to save almost every + cent of my wages for my old age. With the interest that has rolled up, my + little fortune must amount to nearly eight thousand gulden. I will gladly + give it to you, if you will but keep silence, if you will not tell what + you have discovered.” She spoke gaspingly and sank down on her knees + before she had finished. + </p> + <p> + “And Mr. Thorne also—” she continued hastily, as she saw no sign of + interest in Muller’s calm face. Then her voice failed her. + </p> + <p> + The detective looked down kindly on her grey hairs and answered: “No, no, + my good woman; that won’t do. One cannot conceal one crime by committing + another. I myself would naturally not listen to your suggestion for a + moment, but I am also convinced that Mr. Thorne, to whom you are so + devoted, and who, I acknowledge, pleased me the very first sight I had of + him—I am convinced that he would not agree for a moment to any such + solution of the problem.” + </p> + <p> + “Then I can only hope that you will not find him in Venice,” replied Mrs. + Bernauer, with utter despair in her voice and eyes. + </p> + <p> + “I am not at all certain that I will find him in Venice when I leave here + to-morrow morning,” said Muller calmly. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! then you don’t want to find him! Oh God! how good, how inexpressibly + good you are,” stammered the woman, seizing at some vague hope in her + distraught heart. + </p> + <p> + “No, you are mistaken again, Mrs. Bernauer. I will find Mr. Thorne + wherever he may be. But I may arrive in Venice too late to meet him there. + He may already be on his way home.” + </p> + <p> + “On his way home?” cried the housekeeper in terror, staggering where she + stood. + </p> + <p> + Muller led her gently to a chair. “Sit down here and listen to me calmly. + This is what I mean. If Mr. Thorne has seen in the papers that a man has + been arrested and accused of the murder of Leopold Winkler, then he will + take the next train back and give himself up to the authorities. That he + makes no such move as long as he thinks there is no suspicion on any one + else, no possibility that any one else could suffer the consequences of + his deed—is quite comprehensible—it is only natural and + human.” + </p> + <p> + Adele Bernauer sighed deeply again and heavy tears ran down her cheeks, in + strange contrast to the ghost of a smile that parted her lips and shone in + her dimmed eyes. + </p> + <p> + “You know him better than I do,” she murmured almost inaudibly, “you know + him better than I do, and I have known him for so long.” + </p> + <p> + A moment later Muller had parted from the housekeeper with a warm, sincere + pressure of the hand. + </p> + <p> + “Lieutenant Theobald Leining was here on a visit to his sister last March, + wasn’t he?” the detective asked as Franz led him out of the gate. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir; the Lieutenant was here just about that time,” answered the old + man. + </p> + <p> + “And he left here on the 16th of March?” + </p> + <p> + “On the 16th? Why, it may have been—yes, it was the 16th—that + is our lady’s birthday. He went away that day.” Franz bowed a farewell to + this stranger who began to appear uncanny in his eyes, and shutting the + gate carefully he returned to the house. + </p> + <p> + “What does the man want anyway?” he murmured to himself, shivering + involuntarily. Without knowing why he turned his steps towards Mrs. + Bernauer’s room. He opened the door hesitatingly as if afraid of what he + might see there. He would not have been at all surprised if he had found + the housekeeper fainting on the floor as before. + </p> + <p> + But she was not fainting this time. She was very much alive, for, to + Franz’s great astonishment, she was busied at the packing of a valise. + </p> + <p> + “Are you going away too?” asked Franz. Mrs. Bernauer answered in a voice + that was dull with weariness: “Yes, Franz, I am going away. Will you + please look up the time-tables of the Southern railroad and let me know + when the morning express leaves? And please order a cab in time for it. I + will depend upon you to look after the house in my absence. You can + imagine that it must be something very important that takes me to Venice.” + </p> + <p> + “To Venice? Why, what are you going to Venice for?” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind about that, Franz, but help me to pray that I may get there in + time.” + </p> + <p> + She almost pushed the old man out of the door with these last words and + shut and locked it behind him. + </p> + <p> + She wanted to be alone with this hideous fear that was clutching at her + heart. For it was not to Franz that she could tell the thoughts that came + to her lips now as she sank down, wringing her hands, before a picture of + the Madonna: “Oh Holy Virgin, Mother of our Lord, plead for me! let me be + with my dear mistress when the terrible time comes and they take her + husband away from her, or, if preferring death to disgrace, he ends his + life by his own hand!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI. IN THE POLICE COURT + </h2> + <p> + Commissioner Von Riedau sat at his desk late that evening, finishing up + some important papers. The quiet of an undisturbed night watch had settled + down on the busy police station. An occasional low murmur of whispering + voices floated up from the guardroom below, but otherwise the stillness + was broken only by the scratching of the commissioner’s pen and the rustle + of the paper as he turned the leaves. It was a silence so complete that a + light step on the stair outside and the gentle turning of the doorknob was + heard distinctly and the commissioner looked up with almost a start to see + who was coming to his room so late. Joseph Muller stood in the open door, + awaiting his chief’s official recognition. + </p> + <p> + “Oh! it’s you, Muller. So late? Come in. Anything new?” asked the + commissioner. “Have you succeeded in drawing a confession from that + stubborn tramp yet? You’ve been interviewing him, I take it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I had a long talk with Johann Knoll to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that ought to help matters along. Has he confessed? What could you + get out of him?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing, or almost nothing more than he told us here in the station, sir. + </p> + <p> + “The man’s incredibly stubborn,” said the commissioner. “If he could only + be made to understand that a free confession would benefit him more than + any one else! Well, don’t look so down-cast about it, Muller. This thing + is going to take longer than we thought at first for such a simple affair. + But it’s only a question of time until the man comes to his senses. You’ll + get him to talk soon. You always do. And even if you should fail here, + this matter is not so very important, when we think of all the other + things you have done.” Muller, standing front of the desk, shook his head + sadly. + </p> + <p> + “But I haven’t failed here, sir. More’s the pity, I had almost said.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” The commissioner looked up in surprise. “I thought you just said + that you couldn’t get anything more out of the accused.” + </p> + <p> + “Knoll has told us all he knows, sir. He did not murder Leopold Winkler.” + </p> + <p> + “Hmph!” The commissioner’s exclamation had a touch of acidity in it. + “Then, if he didn’t murder him, who did?” + </p> + <p> + “Herbert Thorne, painter, living in the Thorne mansion in B. Street, + Hietzing, now in Venice, Hotel Danieli. I ask for a warrant for his + arrest, sir, and orders to start for Venice on the early morning express + to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “Muller!... what the deuce does all this mean?” The commissioner sprang + up, his face flushing deeply as he leaned over the desk staring at the sad + quiet face of the little man opposite. “What are you talking about? What + does all this mean?” + </p> + <p> + “It means, sir, that we now know who committed the murder in Hietzing. + Johann Knoll is innocent of anything more than the theft confessed by + himself. He took the purse and watch from the senseless form of the just + murdered man. The body was warm and still supple and the tramp supposed + the victim to be merely intoxicated. His story was in every respect true, + sir.” + </p> + <p> + The commissioner flushed still deeper. “And who do you say murdered this + man?” + </p> + <p> + “Herbert Thorne, sir. + </p> + <p> + “But Thorne! I know of him... have even a slight personal acquaintance with + him. Thorne is a rich man, of excellent family. Why should he murder and + rob an obscure clerk like this Winkler?” + </p> + <p> + “He did not rob him sir, Knoll did that.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes. But why should Thorne commit murder on this man who scarcely + touched his life at any point... It’s incredible! Muller! Muller! are you + sure you are not letting your imagination run away with you again? It is a + serious thing to make such an accusation against any man, much less + against a man in Thorne’s position. Are you sure of what you are saying?” + The commissioner’s excitement rendered him almost inarticulate. The shock + of the surprise occasioned by the detective’s words produced a feeling of + irritation... a phenomenon not unusual in the minds of worthy but pedantic + men of affairs when confronted by a startling new thought. + </p> + <p> + “I am quite sure of what I am saying, sir. I have just heard the + confession of one who might be called an accomplice of the murderer.” + </p> + <p> + “It is incredible... incredible! An accomplice you say?... who is this + accomplice? Might it not be some one who has a grudge against Thorne—some + one who is trying to purposely mislead you?” + </p> + <p> + “I am not so easily deceived or misled, sir. Every evidence points to + Thorne, and the confession I have just heard was made by a woman who loves + him, who has loved and cared for him from his babyhood. There is not the + slightest doubt of it, sir.” + </p> + <p> + Muller moved a step nearer the desk, gazing firmly in the eyes of the + excited commissioner. The sadness on the detective’s face had given way to + a gleam of pride that flushed his sallow cheek and brightened his grey + eyes. It was one of those rare moments when Muller allowed himself a + feeling of triumph in his own power, in spite of official subordination + and years of habit. His slight frame seemed to grow taller and broader as + he faced the Chief with an air of quiet determination that made him at + once master of the situation. His voice was as low as ever but it took on + a keen incisive note that compelled attention, as he continued: “Herbert + Thorne is the murderer of Leopold Winkler. Now that he knows an innocent + man is under accusation for his deed it is only a question of time before + he will come himself to confess. He will doubtless make this confession to + me, if I go to Venice to see him, and to bring him back to trial.” + </p> + <p> + The commissioner could doubt no longer. Pedantic though he was, + Commissioner von Riedau possessed sufficient insight to know the truth + when it was presented to him with such conviction, and also sufficient + insight to have recognised the gifts of the man before him. “But why... + why?” he murmured, sinking back into his chair, and shaking his head in + bewilderment. + </p> + <p> + “Winkler was a miserable scoundrel, sir, a blackmailer. Thorne did only + what any decent man would have felt like doing in his place. But justice + must be done.” + </p> + <p> + Muller’s elation vanished and a deep sigh welled up from his heart. The + commissioner nodded slowly, and glanced across the desk almost timidly. + This case had appeared to be so simple, and suddenly the hidden deeps of a + dark mystery had opened before him, deeps already sounded by the little + man here who had gone so quietly about his work while the official police, + represented in this case by Commissioner von Riedau himself, had sat + calmly waiting for an innocent man to confess to a crime he had not + committed! It was humiliating. The commissioner flushed again and his eyes + sank to the floor. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me what you know, Muller,” he said finally. + </p> + <p> + Muller told the story of his experiences in the Thorne mansion, told of + the slight clues which led him to take an interest in the house and its + inmates, until finally the truth began to glimmer up out of the depths. + The commissioner listened with eager interest. “Then you believed this + elaborate yarn told by the tramp?” he interrupted once, at the beginning + of the narrative. + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, sir, just because it was so elaborate. A man like Knoll would + not have had the mind to invent such a story. It must have been true, on + the face of it.” + </p> + <p> + The commissioner’s eyes sank again, and he did not speak until the + detective had reached the end of his story. Then he opened a drawer in his + desk and took out a bundle of official blank-forms. + </p> + <p> + “It is wonderful! Wonderful! Muller, this case will go on record as one of + your finest achievements—and we thought it was so simple.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, indeed, sir, chance favoured me at every turn,” replied Muller + modestly. + </p> + <p> + “There is no such thing as chance,” said the commissioner. “We might as + well be honest with ourselves. Any one might have seen, doubtless did see, + all the things you saw, but no one else had the insight to recognise their + value, nor the skill to follow them up to such a conclusion. But it’s a + sad case, a sad case. I never wrote a warrant with a heavier heart. Thorne + is a true-hearted gentleman, while the scoundrel he killed...” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, I feel that way about it myself. I can confess now that there + was one moment when I was ready to—well, just to say nothing. + </p> + <p> + “And let us blunder on in our official stupidity and blindness?” + interrupted the commissioner, a faint smile breaking the gravity of his + face. “We certainly gave you every opportunity.” + </p> + <p> + “But there’s an innocent man accused—suffering fear of death—justice + must be done. But, sir,” Muller took the warrant the commissioner handed + across the table to him. “May I not make it as easy as I can for Mr. + Thorne—I mean, bring him here with as little publicity as possible? + His wife is with him in Venice.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor little woman, it’s terrible! Do whatever you think best, Muller. + You’re a queer mixture. Here you’ve hounded this man down, followed hot on + his trail when not a soul but yourself connected him in any way with the + murder. And now you’re sorry for him! A soft heart like yours is a + dangerous possession for a police detective, Muller. It’s no aid to our + business.” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir, I know that.” + </p> + <p> + “Well take care it doesn’t run away with you this time. Don’t let Herbert + Thorne escape, however much pity you may feel for him.” + </p> + <p> + “I doubt if he’ll want to sir, as long as another is in prison for his + crime. + </p> + <p> + “But he may make his confession and then try to escape the disgrace.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, I’ve thought of that. That’s why I want to go to Venice myself. + And then, there’s the poor young wife, he must think of her when the + desire comes to end his own life...” + </p> + <p> + “Yes! Yes! This terrible thing has shaken us both up more than a little. I + feel exhausted. You look tired yourself, Muller. Go home now, and get some + rest for your early start. Good-night.” + </p> + <p> + “Good-night, sir.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII. ON THE LIDO + </h2> + <p> + A wonderfully beautiful night lay over the fair old city of Venice when + the Northern Express thundered over the long bridge to the railway + station. A passenger who was alone in a second-class compartment stood up + to collect his few belongings. Suddenly he looked up as he heard a voice, + a voice which he had learned to know only very recently, calling to him + from the door of the compartment. + </p> + <p> + “Why! you were in the train too? You have come to Venice?” exclaimed + Joseph Muller in astonishment as he saw Mrs. Bernauer standing there + before him. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I have come to Venice too. I must be with my dear lady—when—when + Herbert—” She had begun quite calmly, but she did not finish her + sentence, for loud sobs drowned the words. + </p> + <p> + “You were in the next compartment? Why didn’t you come in here with me? It + would have made this journey shorter for both of us.” + </p> + <p> + “I had to be alone,” said the pale woman and then she added: “I only came + to you now to ask you where I must go.” + </p> + <p> + “I think we two had better go to the Hotel Bauer. Let me arrange things + for you. Mrs. Thorne must not see you until she has been prepared for your + coming. I will arrange that with her husband.” + </p> + <p> + The two took each other’s hands. They had won respect and sympathy for + each other, this quiet man who went so relentlessly and yet so pityingly + about his duty in the interest of justice—and the devoted woman + whose faithfulness had brought about such a tragedy. + </p> + <p> + The train had now entered the railway station. Muller and Mrs. Bernauer + stood a few minutes later on the banks of the Grand Canal and entered one + of the many gondolas waiting there. The moon glanced back from the surface + of the water broken into ripples under the oars of the gondoliers; it + shone with a magic charm on the old palaces that stood knee-deep in the + lagoons, and threw heavy shadows over the narrow water-roads on which the + little dark boats glided silently forward. In most of the gondolas coming + from the station excited voices and exclamations of delight broke the calm + of the moonlit evening as the tourists rejoiced in the beauty that is + Venice. + </p> + <p> + But in the gondola in which Muller and Mrs. Bernauer sat there was deep + silence, silence broken only by a sobbing sigh that now and then burst + from the heart of the haggard woman. There were few travellers entering + Venice on one of its world-famous moonlit nights who were so sad at heart + as were these two. + </p> + <p> + And there were few travellers in Venice as heavy hearted as was the man + who next morning took one of the earliest boats out to the Lido. + </p> + <p> + Muller and Mrs. Bernauer were on the same boat watching him from a hidden + corner. The woman’s sad eyes gazed yearningly at the haggard face of the + tall man who stood looking over the railing of the little steamer. Her own + tears came as she saw the gloom in the once shining grey eyes she loved so + well. + </p> + <p> + Muller stood beside Mrs. Bernauer. His eyes too, keen and quick, followed + Herbert Thorne as he stood by the rail or paced restlessly up and down; + his face too showed pity and concern. He also saw that Thorne held in his + hand a bundle of newspapers which were still enclosed in their mailing + wrappers. The papers were pressed in a convulsive grip of the artist’s + long slender fingers. + </p> + <p> + Muller knew then that Thorne had not yet learned of the arrest of Johann + Knoll. At the very earliest, Thursday’s papers, which brought the news, + could not reach him before Friday morning. But these newspapers (Muller + saw that they were German papers) were still in their wrappings. They were + probably Viennese papers for which he had telegraphed and which had just + arrived. His anxiety had not allowed him to read them in the presence of + his wife. He had sought the solitude of early morning on the Lido, that he + might learn, unobserved, what terrors fate had in store for him. + </p> + <p> + It was doubtless Mrs. Bernauer’s telegram which caused his present + anxiety, a telegram which had reached him only the night before when he + returned with his wife from an excursion to Torcello. It had caused him a + sleepless night, for it had brought the realisation that his faithful + nurse suspected the truth about the murder in the quiet lane. The telegram + had read as follows: “Have drawn money and send it at once. Further + journey probably necessary, visitor in house to-day. Connected with + occurrence in — Street. Please read Viennese papers. News and orders + for me please send to address A.B. General Postoffice.” + </p> + <p> + This telegram told Herbert Thorne the truth. And the papers which arrived + this morning were to tell him more—what he did not yet know. But his + heart was drawn with terrors which threw lines in his face and made him + look ten years older than on that Tuesday morning when the detective saw + him setting out on his journey with his wife. + </p> + <p> + When the boat landed at the Lido, Thorne walked off down the road which + led to the ocean side. Muller and Mrs. Bernauer entered the waiting + tramway that took them in the same direction. They dismounted in front of + the bathing establishment, stepped behind a group of bushes and waited + there for Thorne. In about ten minutes they saw his tall figure passing on + the other side of the road. He was walking down to the beach, holding the + still unopened papers in his hand. + </p> + <p> + A narrow strip of park runs along parallel to the beach in the direction + towards Mala Mocco. Muller and Mrs Bernauer walked along through this park + on the path which was nearest the water. The detective watched the rapidly + moving figure ahead of them, while the woman’s tear-dimmed eyes veiled + everything else to her but the path along which her weary feet hastened. + Thorne halted about half way between the bathing establishment and the + customs barracks, looked around to see if he were alone and threw himself + down on the sand. + </p> + <p> + He had chosen a good place. To the right and to the left were high sand + dunes, before him was the broad surface of the ocean, and at his back was + rising ground, bare sand with here and there a scraggly bush or a group of + high thistles. Herbert Thorne believed himself to be alone here... as far + as a man can be alone over whom hangs the shadow of a crime. He groaned + aloud and hid his pale face in his hands. + </p> + <p> + In his own distress he did not hear the deep sigh—which, just above + him on the edge of the knoll, broke from the breast of a woman who was + suffering scarcely less than he; he did not know that two pair of sad eyes + looked down upon him. And now into the eyes of the watching woman there + shot a gleam of terror. For Herbert Thorne had taken a revolver from his + pocket and laid it quietly beside him. Then he took out a notebook and a + pencil and placed them beside the weapon. Then slowly, reluctantly, he + opened one of the papers. + </p> + <p> + A light breeze from the shining sea before him carried off the wrapping. + The paper which he opened shook in his trembling hands, as his eyes sought + the reports of the murder. He gave a sudden start and a tremor ran through + his frame. He had come to the spot which told of the arrest of another + man, who was under shadow of punishment for the crime which he himself had + committed. When he had read this report through, he turned to the other + papers. He was quite calm now, outwardly calm at least. + </p> + <p> + When he had finished reading the papers he laid them in a heap beside him + and reached out for his notebook. As he opened it the two watchers saw + that between its first pages there was a sealed and addressed letter. Two + other envelopes were contained in the notebook, envelopes which were also + addressed although still open. Muller’s sharp eyes could read the + addresses as Thorne took them up in turn, looking long at each of them. + One envelope was addressed in Italian to the Chief of Police of Venice, + the other to the Chief of Police in Vienna. + </p> + <p> + The two watchers leaned forward, scarcely three yards above the man in + whom they were interested. Thorne tore out two leaves of his notebook and + wrote several lines on each of them. One note, he placed in the envelope + addressed to the Viennese police and sealed it carefully. Then he put the + sealed letter with the second note in the other envelope, the one + addressed to the Italian police. He put all the letters back in his + notebook, holding it together with a rubber strap, and replaced it in his + pocket. + </p> + <p> + Then he stretched out his hand toward the revolver. + </p> + <p> + The sand came rattling down upon him, the thistles bent over creakingly + and two figures appeared beside him. + </p> + <p> + “There’s time enough for that yet, Mr. Thorne,” said the man at whom the + painter gazed up in bewilderment. And then this man took the revolver + quietly from his hand and hid it in his own pocket. + </p> + <p> + Thorne pressed his teeth down on his lips until the blood came. He could + not speak; he looked first at the stranger who had mastered him so + completely, and then, in dazed astonishment, at the woman who had sunk + down beside him in the sand, clasping his hand in both of hers. + </p> + <p> + “Adele! Adele! Why are you here?” he stammered finally. + </p> + <p> + “I want to be with you—in this hour,” she answered, looking at him + with eyes of worship. “I want to be with my dear lady—to comfort her—to + protect her when—when—” + </p> + <p> + “When they arrest me?” Thorne finished the sentence himself. Then turning + to Muller he continued: “And that is why you are here?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Mr. Thorne. I have a warrant for your arrest in my pocket. But I + think it will be unnecessary to make use of it in the customary official + way through the authorities here. I see that you have written to both + police stations—confessing your deed. This will amount to a + voluntary giving up of yourself to the authorities, therefore all that is + necessary is that I return with you in the same train which takes you to + Vienna. But I must ask you for those two letters, for until you yourself + give them to the police authorities in my presence, it is my duty to keep + them.” + </p> + <p> + Muller had seldom found his official duty as difficult as it was now. His + words came haltingly and great drops stood out on his forehead. + </p> + <p> + The painter rose from the sand and he too wiped his face, which was drawn + in agony. + </p> + <p> + “Herbert, Herbert!” cried Adele Bernauer suddenly. “Oh, Herbert, you will + live, you will! Promise me, you will not think of suicide, it would kill + your wife—” + </p> + <p> + She lay on her knees before him in the sand. He looked down at her gently + and with a gesture which seemed to be a familiar one of days long past, he + stroked the face that had grown old and worn in these hours of fear for + him. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you dear good soul, I will live on, I will take upon myself my + punishment for killing a scoundrel. The poor man whom they have arrested + in my place must not linger in the fear of death. I am ready, sir. + </p> + <p> + “My name is Muller—detective Muller.” + </p> + <p> + “Joseph Muller, the famous detective Muller?” asked Thorne with a sad + smile. “I have had little to do with the police but by chance I have heard + of your fame. I might have known; they tell me you are one from whom the + truth can never remain hidden.” + </p> + <p> + “My duty is not always an easy one,” said Muller. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. Dispose of me as you will. I do not wish any privileges that + others would not have, Mr. Muller. Here is my written confession and here + am I myself. Shall we go now?” Herbert Thorne handed the detective his + notebook with its important contents and then walked slowly back along the + road he had come. + </p> + <p> + Muller walked a little behind him, while Mrs. Bernauer was at his side. As + in days long past, they walked hand in hand. + </p> + <p> + With eyes full of pity Muller watched them, and he heard Thorne give his + old nurse orders for the care of his wife. She was to take Mrs. Thorne to + Graz to her father, then to return herself to Vienna and take care of the + house as usual, until his attorney could settle up his affairs and sell + the property. For Thorne said that neither he nor his wife would ever want + to set foot in the house again. He spoke calmly, he thought of everything—he + thought even of the possibility that he might have to pay the death + penalty for his deed. + </p> + <p> + For who could tell how the authorities would judge this murder? + </p> + <p> + It had indeed been a murder by merest chance only. Thorne told his old + nurse all about it. When she had given him the signal he had hurried down + into the garden, and walking quietly along the path, he had found his wife + at the garden gate in conversation with a man who was a stranger to him. + That part of their talk which he overheard told him that the man was a + blackmailer, and that he was making money on the fact that he had caught + Theobald Leining cheating at cards. + </p> + <p> + This chance had put the officer into Winkler’s power. The clerk knew that + he could get nothing from the guilty man himself, so he had turned to the + latter’s sister, who was rich, and had threatened to bring about a + disgraceful scandal if she did not pay for his silence. For more than a + year he had been getting money from her by means of these threats. All + this was clear from the conversation. The man spoke in tones of + impertinence, or sneering obsequiousness, the woman’s voice showed + contempt and hatred. + </p> + <p> + Thorne’s blood began to boil. His fingers tightened about the revolver + which he had brought with him to be ready for any emergency, and he + stepped designedly upon a twig which broke under his feet with a noise. He + wanted to frighten his wife and send her back to the house. This was what + did occur. But the blackmailer was alarmed as well and fled hastily from + the garden when he realised that he was not alone with his victim. Thorne + followed the man’s disappearing figure, calling him to halt. He did not + call loudly for he too wanted to avoid a scandal. His intention was to + force the man to follow him into the house, to get his written confession + of blackmail—then to finish him off with a large sum once for all + and kick him out of the place. + </p> + <p> + In this manner Herbert Thorne thought to free himself and his wife from + the persecutions of the rascal. His heart was filled with hatred towards + the man. For since Mrs. Bernauer had told him what she had discovered, he + knew that it was because of this wretch that his once so happy wife was + losing her strength, her health and her peace of mind. + </p> + <p> + He followed the fleeing man and called to him several times to halt. + Finally Winkler half turned and called out over his shoulder: “You’d + better leave me alone! Do you want all Vienna to know that your + brother-in-law ought to be in jail?” + </p> + <p> + These words robbed Thorne of all control. He pressed the trigger under his + finger and the bullet struck the man before him, who had turned to + continue his flight, full in the back. “And that is how I became a + murderer.” With these words Herbert Thorne concluded his narrative. He + appeared quite calm now. He was really calmer, for the strain of the deed, + which was justified in his eyes, was not so great upon his conscience as + had been the strain of the secret of it. + </p> + <p> + In his own eyes he had only killed a beast who chanced to bear the form of + a man. But of course in the eyes of the world this was a murder like any + other, and the man who had committed it knew that he was under the ban of + the law, that it was only a chance that the arm of justice had not yet + reached out for him. And now this arm had reached out for him, although it + was no longer necessary. For Herbert Thorne was not the man to allow + another to suffer in his stead. + </p> + <p> + As soon as he knew that another had been arrested and was under suspicion + of the murder, he knew that there was nothing more for him but open + confession. But he wished to avoid a scandal even now. If he died by his + own hand, then the first cause of all this trouble, his brother-in-law’s + rascality, could still be hidden. + </p> + <p> + But now his care was all in vain and Herbert Thorne knew that he must + submit to the inevitable. Side by side with his old friend he sat on the + deck of the boat that took them back to the Riva dei Schiavoni. Muller sat + at some distance from them. The pale sad-faced woman, and the pale + sad-faced man had much to say to each other that a stranger might not + hear. + </p> + <p> + When the little boat reached the landing stage, there were but a few steps + more to the door of the Hotel Danieli. From a balcony on the first floor a + young woman stood looking down onto the canal. She too was pale and her + eyes were heavy with anxiety. She had been pale and anxious even then, the + day when she left the beautiful old house in the quiet street, to start on + this pleasure trip to Venice. + </p> + <p> + It had been no pleasure trip to her. She had seen the change in her + husband, a change that struck deep into his very being and altered him in + everything except in his love and tender care for her. “Oh, why is it? + what is the matter?” she asked her self a thousand times a day. Could it + be possible that he had discovered the secret which tortured her, the only + secret she had ever had from him, the secret she had longed to confess to + him a hundred times but had lacked courage to do it. + </p> + <p> + For she had sinned deeply against her husband, she knew. Her fear and her + confusion had driven her deeper and deeper into the waters of deceit until + it was impossible for her to find the words that would have brought help + and comfort from the man whom she loved more than anything else in the + world. In the very earliest stages of Winkler’s persecution she had lost + her head completely and instead of confessing to her husband and asking + for his aid and protection, she had pawned the rich jewels which had been + his wedding present to get the money demanded by the blackmailer. In her + ignorance she had thought that this one sum would satisfy him. + </p> + <p> + But he came again and again, demanding money which she saved from her pin + money, from her household allowance, thus taking what she had intended to + use to redeem her jewels. The pledge was lost, and her jewels gone + forever. From now on, Mrs. Thorne lived in a terror which sapped her + strength and drank her life blood drop by drop. Any hour might bring + discovery, a discovery which she feared would shake her husband’s love for + her. The poor weak little woman grew pale and ill. She wrote finally to + her step-brother, but he could think of no way out; he wrote only that if + the matter came to a scandal there would be nothing for him to do but to + kill himself. This was one reason more for her silence, and Mrs. Thorne + faded to a wan shadow of her former sunny self. + </p> + <p> + As she looked down from the balcony, she was like a woman suffering from a + deathly illness. A new terror had come to her heart because her husband + had gone away so early without telling her why or whither he had gone. + When she saw him coming towards the door of the hotel, pale and drooping, + and when she saw Mrs. Bernauer beside him, her heart seemed to stand + still. She crept back from the window and stood in the middle of the room + as Herbert Thorne and his former nurse entered. + </p> + <p> + “What has happened?” This was all she could say as she looked into the + distraught face of the housekeeper, into her husband’s sad eyes. + </p> + <p> + He led her to a chair, then knelt beside her and told her all. + </p> + <p> + “Outside the door stands the man who will take me back to Vienna—and + you, my dearest, you must go to your father.” He concluded his story with + these words. + </p> + <p> + She bent down over him and kissed him. “‘No, I am going with you,” she + said softly, strangely calm; “why should I leave you now? Is it not I who + am the cause of this dreadful thing?” + </p> + <p> + And then she made her confession, much too late. And she went with him, + back to the city of their home. It seemed to them both quite natural that + she should do so. + </p> + <p> + When the Northern Express rolled out of Venice that afternoon, three + people sat together in a compartment, the curtains of which were drawn + close. They were the unhappy couple and their faithful servant. And + outside in the corridor of the railway carriage, a small, slight man + walked up and down—up and down. He had pressed a gold coin into the + conductor’s hand, with the words: “The party in there do not wish to be + disturbed; the lady is ill.” + </p> + <p> + Herbert Thorne’s trial took place several weeks later. Every possible + extenuating circumstance was brought to bear upon his sentence. Five years + only was to be the term of his imprisonment, his punishment for the crime + of a single moment of anger. + </p> + <p> + His wife waited for him in patient love. She did not go to Graz, but + continued to live in the old mansion with the mansard roof. Her father was + with her. The brother Theobald, the cause of all this suffering to those + who had shielded him at the expense of their own happiness, had at last + done the only good deed of his life—had put an end to his useless + existence with his own hand. + </p> + <p> + Father and daughter waited patiently for the return of the man who had + sinned and suffered for their sake. They spoke of him only in terms of the + tenderest affection and respect. + </p> + <p> + And indeed, seldom has any condemned murderer met with the respect of the + entire community as Herbert Thorne did. The tone of the newspapers, and + public opinion, evinced by hundreds of letters from friends, + acquaintances, and from strangers, was a great boon to the solitary man in + his cell, and to the three loving hearts in the old house. And at the end + of two years the clemency of the Monarch ended his term of imprisonment, + and Herbert Thorne was set free, a step which met with the approval of the + entire city. + </p> + <p> + He returned to the home where love and affection awaited him, ready to + make him forget what he had suffered. But the silver threads in his dark + hair and a certain quiet seriousness in his manner, and in the hearts of + all the dwellers in the old mansion, showed that the occurrence of that + fatal 27th of September had thrown a shadow over them all which was not to + be shaken off. + </p> + <p> + Joseph Muller brought many other cases to a successful solution. But for + years after this particular case had been won, he was followed, as by a + shadow, by a man who watched over him, and who, whenever danger + threatened, stood over the frail detective as if to take the blow upon + himself. He is a clever assistant, too, and no one who had seen Johann + Knoll the day that he was put into the cell on suspicion of murder would + have believed that the idle tramp could become again such a useful member + of society. These are the victories that Joseph Muller considers his + greatest. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg’s The Lamp That Went Out, by Augusta Groner + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAMP THAT WENT OUT *** + +***** This file should be named 1832-h.htm or 1832-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/3/1832/ + +Produced by An Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteer, and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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