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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/1836-0.txt b/1836-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3cb284d --- /dev/null +++ b/1836-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,2091 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Case of the Golden Bullet, by +Grace Isabel Colbron, and 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 Case of the Golden Bullet + +Author: Grace Isabel Colbron, and Augusta Groner + +Posting Date: September 26, 2008 [EBook #1836] +Release Date: July, 1999 +Last Updated: October 14, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CASE OF THE GOLDEN BULLET *** + + + + +Produced by An Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteer + + + + + +THE CASE OF THE GOLDEN BULLET + +by Grace Isabel Colbron, and Augusta Groner + + + + +INTRODUCTION TO JOE MULLER + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + + + + +THE CASE OF THE GOLDEN BULLET + + +“Please, sir, there is a man outside who asks to see you.” + +“What does he want?” asked Commissioner Horn, looking up. + +“He says he has something to report, sir.” + +“Send him in, then.” + +The attendant disappeared, and the commissioner looked up at the clock. +It was just striking eleven, but the fellow official who was to relieve +him at that hour had not yet appeared. And if this should chance to be +a new case, he would probably be obliged to take it himself. The +commissioner was not in a very good humour as he sat back to receive +the young man who entered the room in the wake of the attendant. The +stranger was a sturdy youth, with an unintelligent, good-natured face. +He twisted his soft hat in his hands in evident embarrassment, and his +eyes wandered helplessly about the great bare room. + +“Who are you?” demanded the commissioner. + +“My name is Dummel, sir, Johann Dummel.” + +“And your occupation?” + +“My occupation? Oh, yes, I--I am a valet, valet to Professor Fellner.” + +The commissioner sat up and looked interested. He knew Fellner +personally and liked him. “What have you to report to me?” he asked +eagerly. + +“I--I don’t know whether I ought to have come here, but at home--” + +“Well, is anything the matter?” insisted Horn. + +“Why, sir, I don’t know; but the Professor--he is so still--he doesn’t +answer.” + +Horn sprang from his chair. “Is he ill?” he asked. + +“I don’t know, sir. His room is locked--he never locked it before.” + +“And you are certain he is at home?” + +“Yes, sir. I saw him during the night--and the key is in the lock on the +inside.” + +The commissioner had his hat in his hand when the colleague who was +to relieve him appeared. “Good and cold out to-day!” was the latter’s +greeting. Horn answered with an ironical: “Then I suppose you’ll be glad +if I relieve you of this case. But I assure you I wouldn’t do it if +it wasn’t Fellner. Good-bye. Oh, and one thing more. Please send a +physician at once to Fellner’s house, No. 7 Field Street.” + +Horn opened the door and passed on into the adjoining room, accompanied +by Johann. The commissioner halted a moment as his eyes fell upon a +little man who sat in the corner reading a newspaper. “Hello, Muller; +you there? Suppose I take you with me? You aren’t doing anything now, +are you?” + +“No, sir. + +“Well, come with me, then. If this should turn out to be anything +serious, we may need you.” + +The three men entered one of the cabs waiting outside the police +station. As they rattled through the streets, Commissioner Horn +continued his examination of the valet. “When did you see your master +last?” + +“About eleven o’clock last evening.” + +“Did you speak with him then? + +“No, I looked through the keyhole.” + +“Oh, indeed; is that a habit of yours?” + +Dummel blushed deeply, but his eyes flashed, and he looked angry. + +“No, it is not, sir,” he growled. “I only did it this time because I was +anxious about the master. He’s been so worked up and nervous the last +few days. Last night I went to the theatre, as I always do Saturday +evenings. When I returned, about half-past ten it was, I knocked at the +door of his bedroom. He didn’t answer, and I walked away softly, so +as not to disturb him in case he’d gone to sleep already. The hall was +dark, and as I went through it I saw a ray of light coming from the +keyhole of the Professor’s study. That surprised me, because he never +worked as late as that before. I thought it over a moment, then I crept +up and looked through the keyhole.” + +“And what did you see?” + +“He sat at his desk, quite quiet. So I felt easy again, and went off to +bed.” + +“Why didn’t you go into the room?” + +“I didn’t dare, sir. The Professor never wanted to be disturbed when he +was writing.” + +“Well, and this morning?” + +“I got up at the usual time this morning, set the breakfast table, and +then knocked at the Professor’s bedroom door to waken him. He didn’t +answer, and I thought he might want to sleep, seeing as it was Sunday, +and he was up late last night. So I waited until ten o’clock. Then +I knocked again and tried the door, but it was locked. That made me +uneasy, because he never locked his bedroom door before. I banged at the +door and called out, but there wasn’t a sound. Then I ran to the police +station.” + +Horn was evidently as alarmed as was the young valet. But Muller’s +cheeks were flushed and a flash of secret joy, of pleasurable +expectation, brightened his deep-set, grey eyes. He sat quite +motionless, but every nerve in his body was alive and tingling. The +humble-looking little man had become quite another and a decidedly +interesting person. He laid his thin, nervous hand on the carriage door. + +“We are not there yet,” said the commissioner. + +“No, but it’s the third house from here,” replied Muller. + +“You know where everybody lives, don’t you?” smiled Horn. + +“Nearly everybody,” answered Muller gently, as the cab stopped before +an attractive little villa surrounded by its own garden, as were most of +the houses in this quiet, aristocratic part of the town. + +The house was two stories high, but the upper windows were closed and +tightly curtained. This upper story was the apartment occupied by +the owner of the house, who was now in Italy with his invalid wife. +Otherwise the dainty little villa, built in the fashionable Nuremberg +style, with heavy wooden doors and lozenged-paned windows, had no +occupants except Professor Fellner and his servant. With its graceful +outlines and well-planned garden, the dwelling had a most attractive +appearance. Opposite it was the broad avenue known as the Promenade, and +beyond this were open fields. To the right and to the left were similar +villas in their gardens. + +Dummel opened the door and the three men entered the house. The +commissioner and the valet went in first, Muller following them more +slowly. His sharp eyes glanced quickly over the coloured tiles of the +flooring, over the white steps and the carpeted hallway beyond. Once he +bent quickly and picked up something, then he walked on with his usual +quiet manner, out of which every trace of excitement had now vanished. + +The dull winter sun seemed only to make the gloom of the dark vestibule +more visible. Johann turned up the light, and Horn, who had visited the +Professor several times and knew the situation of the rooms, went +at once to the heavy, carved and iron trimmed door of the study. He +attempted to open the door, but it resisted all pressure. The heavy +key was in the inner side of the big lock with its medieval iron +ornamentation. But the key was turned so that the lower part of the lock +was free, a round opening of unusual size. Horn made sure of this by +holding a lighted match to the door. + +“You are right,” he said to the valet, “the door is locked from the +inside. We’ll have to go through the bedroom. Johann, bring me a chisel +or a hatchet. Muller, you stay here and open the door when the doctor +comes.” + +Muller nodded. Johann disappeared, returning in a few moments with a +small hatchet, and followed the commissioner through the dining-room. It +was an attractive apartment with its high wooden panelling and its dainty +breakfast table. But a slight shiver ran through the commissioner’s +frame as he realised that some misfortune, some crime even might be +waiting for them on the other side of the closed door. The bedroom door +also was locked on the inside, and after some moments of knocking and +calling, Horn set the hatchet to the framework just as the bell of the +house-door pealed out. + +With a cracking and tearing of wood the bedroom door fell open, and in +the same moment Muller and the physician passed through the dining-room. +Johann hurried into the bedroom to open the window-shutters, and the +others gathered in the doorway. A single look showed each of the men +that the bed was untouched, and they passed on through the room. The +door from the bedroom to the study stood open. In the latter room the +shutters were tightly closed, and the lamp had long since gone out. But +sufficient light fell through the open bedroom door for the men to see +the figure of the Professor seated at his desk, and when Johann had +opened the shutters, it was plain to all that the silent figure before +them was that of a corpse. + +“Heart disease, probably,” murmured the physician, as he touched the icy +forehead. Then he felt the pulse of the stiffened hand from which the +pen had fallen in the moment of death, raised the drooping head and +lifted up the half-closed eyelids. The eyes were glazed. + +The others looked on in silence. Horn was very pale, and his usually +calm face showed great emotion. Johann seemed quite beside himself, the +tears rolled down his cheeks unhindered. Muller stood without a sign +of life, his sallow face seemed made of bronze; he was watching and +listening. He seemed to hear and see what no one else could see or hear. +He smiled slightly when the doctor spoke of “heart disease,” and his +eyes fell on the revolver that lay near the dead man’s hand on the desk. +Then he shook his head, and then he started suddenly. Horn noticed the +movement; it was in the moment when the physician raised up the sunken +figure that had fallen half over the desk. + +“He was killed by a bullet,” said Muller. + +“Yes, that was it,” replied the doctor. With the raising of the body the +dead man’s waistcoat fell back into its usual position, and they could +see a little round hole in his shirt. The doctor opened the shirt bosom +and pointed to a little wound in the Professor’s left breast. There were +scarcely three or four drops of blood visible. The hemorrhage had been +internal. + +“He must have died at once, without suffering,” said the physician. + +“He killed himself--he killed himself,” murmured Johann, as if +bewildered. + +“It’s strange that he should have found time to lay down the revolver +before he died,” remarked Horn. Johann put out his hand and raised the +weapon before Horn could prevent him. “Leave that pistol where it was,” + commanded the commissioner. “We have to look into this matter more +closely.” + +The doctor turned quickly. “You think it was a murder?” he exclaimed. +“The doors were both locked on the inside--where could the murderer be?” + +“I don’t pretend to see him myself yet. But our rule is to leave things +as they are discovered, until the official examination. Muller, did you +shut the outer door?” + +“Yes, sir; here is the key.” + +“Johann, are there any more keys for the outer door?” + +“Yes, sir. One more, that is, for the third was lost some months ago. +The Professor’s own key ought to be in the drawer of the little table +beside the bed.” + +“Will you please look for it, Muller?” + +Muller went into the bedroom and soon returned with the key, which he +handed to the commissioner. The detective had found something else +in the little table drawer--a tortoise-shell hairpin, which he had +carefully hidden in his own pocket before rejoining the others. + +Horn turned to the servant again. “How many times have you been out of +the apartment since last night?” + +“Once only, sir, to go to the police station to fetch you.” + +“And you locked the door behind you?” + +“Why, yes, sir. You saw that I had to turn the key twice to let you in.” + +Horn and Muller both looked the young man over very carefully. He seemed +perfectly innocent, and their suspicion that he might have turned +the key in pretense only, soon vanished. It would have been a foolish +suspicion anyway. If he were in league with the murderer, he could have +let the latter escape with much more safety during the night. Horn +let his eyes wander about the rooms again, and said slowly: “Then the +murderer is still here--or else--” + +“Or else?” asked the doctor. + +“Or else we have a strange riddle to solve.” + +Johann had laid the pistol down again. Muller stretched forth his +hand and took it up. He looked at it a moment, then handed it to the +commissioner. “We have to do with a murder here. There was not a shot +fired from this revolver, for every chamber is still loaded. And there +is no other weapon in sight,” said the detective quietly. + +“Yes, he was murdered. This revolver is fully loaded. Let us begin the +search at once.” Horn was more excited than he cared to show. + +Johann looked about in alarm, but when he saw the others beginning to +peer into every corner and every cupboard, he himself joined in the +man-hunt. A quarter of an hour later, the four men relinquished their +fruitless efforts and gathered beside the corpse again. + +“Doctor, will you have the kindness to report to the head Commissioner +of Police, and to order the taking away of the body? We will look about +for some motive for this murder in the meantime,” said Horn, as he held +out his hand to the physician. + +Muller walked out to the door of the house with the doctor. + +“Do you think this valet did it?” asked the physician softly. + +“He? Oh, dear, no,” replied the detective scornfully. + +“You think he’s too stupid? But this stupidity might be feigned.” + +“It’s real enough, doctor.” + +“But what do you think about it--you, who have the gift of seeing more +than other people see, even if it does bring you into disfavour with the +Powers that Be?” + +“Then you don’t believe me yet?” + +“You mean about the beautiful Mrs. Kniepp? + +“And yet I tell you I am right. It was an intentional suicide.” + +“Muller, Muller, you must keep better watch over your imagination and +your tongue! It is a dangerous thing to spread rumours about persons +high in favor with the Arch-duke. But you had better tell me what you +think about this affair,” continued the doctor, pointing back towards +the room they had just left. + +“There’s a woman in the case.” + +“Aha! you are romancing again. Well, they won’t be so sensitive about +this matter, but take care that you don’t make a mistake again, my +dear Muller. It would be likely to cost you your position, don’t forget +that.” + +The doctor left the house. Muller smiled bitterly as he closed the door +behind him, and murmured to himself: “Indeed, I do not forget it, and +that is why I shall take this matter into my own hands. But the Kniepp +case is not closed yet, by any means.” + +When he returned to the study he saw Johann sitting quietly in a corner, +shaking his head, as if trying to understand it all. Horn was bending +over a sheet of writing paper which lay before the dead man. Fellner +must have been busy at his desk when the bullet penetrated his heart. +His hand in dying had let fall the pen, which had drawn a long black +mark across the bottom of the sheet. One page of the paper was covered +with a small, delicate handwriting. + +Horn called up the detective, and together they read the following +words: + +“Dear Friend:-- + +“He challenged me--pistols--it means life or death. My enemy is very +bitter. But I am not ready to die yet. And as I know that I would be the +one to fall, I have refused the duel. That will help me little, for +his revenge will know how to find me. I dare not be a moment without a +weapon now--his threats on my refusal let me fear the worst. I have an +uncanny presentiment of evil. I shall leave here to-morrow. With the +excuse of having some pressing family affair to attend to, I have +secured several days’ leave. Of course I do not intend to return. I +am hoping that you will come here and break up my establishment in my +stead. I will tell you everything else when I see you. I am in a hurry +now, for there is a good deal of packing to do. If anything should +happen to me, you will know who it is who is responsible for my death. +His name is--” + +Here the letter came to an abrupt close. + +Muller and Horn looked at each other in silence, then they turned their +eyes again toward the dead man. + +“He was a coward,” said the detective coldly, and turned away. Horn +repeated mechanically, “A coward!” and his eyes also looked down with +a changed expression upon the handsome, soft-featured face, framed in +curly blond hair, that lay so silent against the chair-back. Many women +had loved this dead man, and many men had been fond of him, for they had +believed him capable and manly. + +The commissioner and Muller continued their researches in silence and +with less interest than before. They found a heap of loose ashes in the +bedroom stove. Letters and other trifles had been burned there. Muller +raked out the heap very carefully, but the writing on the few pieces of +paper still left whole was quite illegible. There were several envelopes +in the waste-basket, but all of them were dated several months back. +There was nothing that could give the slightest clue. + +The letter written by the murdered man was sufficient proof that his +death had been an act of vengeance. But who was it who had carried out +this secret, terrible deed? The victim had not been allowed the time to +write down the name of his murderer. + +Horn took the letter into his keeping. Then he left the room, followed +by Muller and the valet, to look about the rest of the house as far as +possible. This was not very far, for the second story was closed off by +a tall iron grating. + +“Is the house door locked during the daytime?” asked Horn of the +servant. + +“The front door is, but the side door into the garden is usually open.” + +“Has it ever happened that any one got into the house from this side +door without your knowing it?” + +“No, sir. The garden has a high wall around it. And there is extra +protection on the side toward the Promenade.” + +“But there’s a little gate there?” + +“Yes, sir.” + +“Is that usually closed?” + +“We never use the key for that, sir. It has a trick lock that you can’t +open unless you know how.” + +“You said you went to the theatre yesterday evening. Did your master +give you permission to go?” + +“Yes, sir. It’s about a year now that he gave me money for a theatre +ticket every Saturday evening. He was very kind.” + +“Did you come into the house last night by the front door, or through +the garden?” + +“Through the garden, sir. I walked down the Promenade from the theatre.” + +“And you didn’t notice anything--you saw no traces of footsteps?” + +“No, sir. I didn’t notice anything unusual. We shut the side door, the +garden door, every evening, also. It was closed yesterday and I found +the key--we’ve only got one key to the garden door--in the same place +where I was told to hide it when I went out in the evening.” + +“What place was that?” + +“In one of the pails by the well.” + +“You say you were told to hide it there?” + +“Yes, sir; the Professor told me. He’d go out in the evening sometimes, +too, I suppose, and he wanted to be able to come in that way if +necessary.” + +“And no one else knew where the key was hidden?” + +“No one else, sir. It’s nearly a year now that we’ve been alone in the +house. Who else should know of it?” + +“When you looked through the keyhole last night, are you sure that the +Professor was still alive?” + +“Why, yes, sir; of course I couldn’t say so surely. I thought he was +reading or writing, but oh, dear Lord! there he was this morning, nearly +twelve hours later, in just the same position.” Johann shivered at the +thought that he might have seen his master sitting at his desk, already +a corpse. + +“He must have been dead when you came home. Don’t you think the sound of +that shot would have wakened you?” + +“Yes, sir, I think likely, sir,” murmured Johann. “But if the murderer +could get into the house, how could he get into the apartment?” + +“There must have been a third key of which you knew nothing,” answered +Horn, turning to Muller again. “It’s stranger still how Fellner +could have been shot, for the window-shutters were fastened and quite +uninjured, and both doors were locked on the inside.” + +As he said these words, Horn looked sharply at his subordinate; but +Muller’s calm face did not give the slightest clue to his thoughts. The +experienced police commissioner was pleased and yet slightly angered at +this behaviour on the part of the detective. He knew that it was quite +possible that Muller had already formed a clear opinion about the case, +and that he was merely keeping it to himself. And yet he was glad to +see that the little detective had apparently learned a lesson from his +recent mistake concerning the death of Mrs. Kniepp--that he had somewhat +lost confidence in his hitherto unerring instinct, and did not care to +express any opinion until he had studied the matter a little closer. The +commissioner was just a little bit vain, and just a little bit jealous +of this humble detective’s fame. + +Muller shrugged his shoulders at the remark of his superior, and the +two men stood silent, thinking over the case, as the Chief of Police +appeared, accompanied by the doctor, a clerk, and two hospital +attendants. The chief commissioner received the report of what had +been discovered, while the corpse was laid on a bier to be taken to the +hospital. + +Muller handed the commissioner his hat and cane and helped him into +his overcoat. Horn noticed that the detective himself was making +no preparations to go out. “Aren’t you coming with us?” he asked, +astonished. + +“I hope the gentlemen will allow me to remain here for a little while,” + answered Muller modestly. + +“But you know that we will have to close the apartment officially,” said +Horn, his voice sharpening in his surprise and displeasure. + +“I do not need to be in these rooms any longer.” + +“Don’t let them disturb you, my dear Muller; we will allow your +keenness all possible leeway here.” The Head of Police spoke with calm +politeness, but Muller started and shivered. The emphasis on the “here” + showed him that even the head of the department had been incensed at his +suggestion that the beautiful Mrs. Kniepp had died of her own free +will. It had been his assertion of this which, coming to the ears of +the bereaved husband, had enraged and embittered him, and had turned the +power of his influence with the high authorities against the detective. +Muller knew how greatly he had fallen from favour in the Police +Department, and the words of his respected superior showed him that he +was still in disgrace. + +But the strange, quiet smile was still on his lips as, with his usual +humble deference, he accompanied the others to the sidewalk. Before +the commissioners left the house, the Chief commanded Johann to answer +carefully any questions Muller might put to him. + +“He’ll find something, you may be sure,” said Horn, as they drove off in +the cab. + +“Let him that’s his business. He is officially bound to see more than +the rest of us,” smiled the older official good-naturedly. “But in spite +of it, he’ll never get any further than the vestibule; he’ll be making +bows to us to the end of his days.” + +“You think so? I’ve wondered at the man. I know his fame in the capital, +indeed, in police circles all over Austria and Germany. It seems hard +on him to be transferred to this small town, now that he is growing old. +I’ve wondered why he hasn’t done more for himself, with his gifts.” + +“He never will,” replied the Chief. “He may win more fame--he may still +go on winning triumphs, but he will go on in a circle; he’ll never forge +ahead as his capabilities deserve. Muller’s peculiarity is that his +genius--for the man has undeniable genius--will always make concessions +to his heart just at the moment when he is about to do something +great--and his triumph is lost.” + +Horn looked up at his superior, whom, in spite of his good nature, he +knew to be a sharp, keen, capable police official. “I forgot you have +known Muller longer than the rest of us,” he said. “What was that you +said about his heart?” + +“I said that it is one of those inconvenient hearts that will always +make itself noticeable at the wrong time. Muller’s heart has played +several tricks on the police department, which has, at other times, +profited so well by his genius. He is a strange mixture. While he is on +the trail of the criminal he is like the bloodhound. He does not seem to +know fatigue nor hunger; his whole being is absorbed by the excitement +of the chase. He has done many a brilliant service to the cause of +justice, he has discovered the guilt, or the innocence, of many in cases +where the official department was as blind as Justice is proverbially +supposed to be. Joseph Muller has become the idol of all who are engaged +in this weary business of hunting down wrong and punishing crime. He +is without a peer in his profession. But he has also become the idol of +some of the criminals. For if he discovers (as sometimes happens) that +the criminal is a good sort after all, he is just as likely to warn his +prey, once he has all proofs of the guilt and a conviction is certain. +Possibly this is his way of taking the sting from his irresistible +impulse to ferret out hidden mysteries. But it is rather inconvenient, +and he has hurt himself by it--hurt himself badly. They were tired of +his peculiarities at the capital, and wanted to make his years an excuse +to discharge him. I happened to get wind of it, and it was my weakness +for him that saved him.” + +“Yes, you brought him here when they transferred you to this town, I +remember now.” + +“I’m afraid it wasn’t such a good thing for him, after all. Nothing +ever happens here, and a gift like Muller’s needs occupation to keep +it fresh. I’m afraid his talents will dull and wither here. The man has +grown perceptibly older in this inaction. His mind is like a high-bred +horse that needs exercise to keep it in good condition.” + +“He hasn’t grown rich at his work, either,” said Horn. + +“No, there’s not much chance for a police detective to get rich. I’ve +often wondered why Muller never had the energy to set up in business for +himself. He might have won fame and fortune as a private detective. But +he’s gone on plodding along as a police subordinate, and letting the +department get all the credit for his most brilliant achievements. It’s +a sort of incorrigible humbleness of nature--and then, you know, he had +the misfortune to be unjustly sentenced to a term in prison in his early +youth.” + +“No, I did not know that.” + +“The stigma stuck to his name, and finally drove him to take up this +work. I don’t think Muller realised, when he began, just how greatly +he is gifted. I don’t know that he really knows now. He seems to do it +because he likes it--he’s a queer sort of man.” + +While the commissioners drove through the streets to the police station +the man of whom they were speaking sat in Johann’s little room in close +consultation with the valet. + +“How long is it since the Professor began to give you money to go to the +theatre on Saturday evenings?” + +“The first time it happened was on my name day.” + +“What’s the rest of your name? There are so many Johanns on the calendar.” + +“I am Johann Nepomuk.” + +Muller took a little calendar from his pocket and turned its pages. “It +was May sixteenth,” volunteered the valet. + +“Quite right. May sixteenth was a Saturday. And since then you have gone +to the theatre every Saturday evening?” + +“Yes, sir. + +“When did the owner of the house go away?” + +“Last April. His wife was ill and he had to take her away. They went to +Italy.” + +“And you two have been alone in the house since April?” + +“Yes, sir, we two.” + +“Was there no janitor?” + +“No, sir. The garden was taken care of by a man who came in for the +day.” + +“And you had no dog? I haven’t seen any around the place.” + +“No, sir; the Professor did not like animals. But he must have been +thinking about buying a dog, because I found a new dog-whip in his room +one day.” + +“Somebody might have left it there. One usually buys the dog first and +then the whip.” + +“Yes, sir. But there wasn’t anybody here to forget it. The Professor did +not receive any visits at that time.” + +“Why are you so sure of that?” + +“Because it was the middle of summer, and everybody was away.” + +“Oh, then, we won’t bother about the whip. Can you tell me of any ladies +with whom the Professor was acquainted?” + +“Ladies? I don’t know of any. Of course, the Professor was invited out +a good deal, and most of the other gentlemen from the college were +married.” + +“Did he ever receive letters from ladies?” continued Muller. + +Johann thought the matter over, then confessed that he knew very little +about writing and couldn’t read handwriting very well anyway. But he +remembered to have seen a letter now and then, a little letter with a +fine and delicate handwriting. + +“Have you any of these envelopes?” asked Muller. But Johann told him +that in spite of his usual carelessness in such matters, Professor +Fellner never allowed these letters to lie about his room. + +Finally the detective came out with the question to which he had been +leading up. “Did your master ever receive visits from ladies?” + +Johann looked extremely stupid at this moment. His lack of intelligence +and a certain crude sensitiveness in his nature made him take umbrage at +what appeared to him a very unnecessary question. He answered it with a +shake of the head only. Muller smiled at the young man’s ill-concealed +indignation and paid no attention to it. + +“Your master has been here for about a year. Where was he before that?” + +“In the capital.” + +“You were in his service then?” + +“I have been with him for three years.” + +“Did he know any ladies in his former home?” + +“There was one--I think he was engaged to her.” + +“Why didn’t he marry her?” + +“I don’t know.” + +“What was her name?” + +“Marie. That’s all I know about it.” + +“Was she beautiful?” + +“I never saw her. The only way I knew about her was when the Professor’s +friends spoke of her.” + +“Did he have many friends?” + +“There were ever so many gentlemen whom he called his friends.” + +“Take me into the garden now.” + +“Yes, sir.” Muller took his hat and coat and followed the valet into the +garden. It was of considerable size, carefully and attractively planned, +and pleasing even now when the bare twigs bent under their load of snow. + +“Now think carefully, Johann. We had a full moon last night. Don’t +you remember seeing any footsteps in the garden, leading away from the +house?” asked Muller, as they stood on the snow-covered paths. + +Johann thought it over carefully, then said decidedly, “No. At least I +don’t remember anything of the kind. There was a strong wind yesterday +anyway, and the snow drifts easily out here. No tracks could remain +clear for long.” + +The men walked down the straight path which led to the little gate in +the high wall. This gate had a secret lock, which, however, was neither +hard to find nor hard to open. Muller managed it with ease, and looked +out through the gate on the street beyond. The broad promenade, deserted +now in its winter snowiness, led away in one direction to the heart of +the city. In the other it ended in the main county high-road. This was +a broad, well-made turnpike, with footpath and rows of trees. A +half-hour’s walk along it would bring one to the little village +clustering about the Archduke’s favourite hunting castle. There was a +little railway station near the castle, but it was used only by suburban +trains or for the royal private car. + +Muller did not intend to burden his brain with unnecessary facts, so +with his usual thoroughness he left the further investigation of what +lay beyond the gate, until he had searched the garden thoroughly. But +even for his sharp eyes there was no trace to be found that would tell +of the night visit of the murderer. + +“In which of the pails did you put the key to the side door?” he asked. + +“In the first pail on the right hand side. But be careful, sir; there’s +a nail sticking out of the post there. The wind tore off a piece of wood +yesterday.” + +The warning came too late. Muller’s sleeve tore apart with a sharp sound +just as Johann spoke, for the detective had already plunged his hand +into the pail. The bottom of the bucket was easy to reach, as this one +hung much lower than the others. Looking regretfully at the rent in +his coat, Muller asked for needle and thread that he might repair it +sufficiently to get home. + +“Oh, don’t bother about sewing it; I’ll lend you one of mine,” exclaimed +Johann. “I’ll carry this one home for you, for I’m not going to stay +here alone--I’d be afraid. I’m going to a friend’s house. You can +find me there any time you need me. You’d better take the key of the +apartment and give it to the police.” + +The detective had no particular fondness for the task of sewing, and +he was glad to accept the valet’s friendly offering. He was rather +astonished at the evident costliness of the garment the young man handed +him, and when he spoke of it, the valet could not say enough in praise +of the kindness of his late master. He pulled out several other articles +of clothing, which, like the overcoat, had been given to him by Fellner. +Then he packed up a few necessities and announced himself as ready to +start. He insisted on carrying the torn coat, and Muller permitted it +after some protest. They carefully closed the apartment and the house, +and walked toward the centre of the city to the police station, where +Muller lived. + +As they crossed the square, it suddenly occurred to Johann that he had +no tobacco. He was a great smoker, and as he had many days of enforced +idleness ahead of him, he ran into a tobacco shop to purchase a +sufficiency of this necessity of life. + +Muller waited outside, and his attention was attracted by a large grey +Ulmer hound which was evidently waiting for some one within the shop. +The dog came up to him in a most friendly manner, allowed him to pat its +head, rubbed up against him with every sign of pleasure, and would not +leave him even when he turned to go after Johann came out of the shop. +Still accompanied by the dog, the two men walked on quite a distance, +when a sharp whistle was heard behind them, and the dog became uneasy. +He would not leave them, however, until a powerful voice called +“Tristan!” several times. Muller turned and saw that Tristan’s master +was a tall, stately man wearing a handsome fur overcoat. + +It was impossible to recognise his face at this distance, for the +snowflakes were whirling thickly in the air. But Muller was not +particularly anxious to recognise the stranger, as he had his head full +of more important thoughts. + +When Johann had given his new address and remarked that he would call +for his coat soon, the men parted, and Muller returned to the police +station. + +The next day the principal newspaper of the town printed the following +notice: + + THE GOLDEN BULLET + + It is but a few days since we announced to our readers the sad + news of the death of a beautiful woman, whose leap from her + window, while suffering from the agonies of fever, destroyed + the happiness of an unusually harmonious marriage. And now we + are compelled to print the news of another equally sad as well + as mysterious occurrence. This time, Fate has demanded the + sacrifice of the life of a capable and promising young man. + Professor Paul Fellner, a member of the faculty of our college, + was found dead at his desk yesterday morning. It was thought at + first that it was a case of suicide, for doors and windows were + carefully closed from within and those who discovered the corpse + were obliged to break open one of the doors to get to it. And + a revolver was found lying close at hand, upon the desk. But + this revolver was loaded in every chamber and there was no other + weapon to be seen in the room. There was a bullet wound in the + left breast of the corpse, and the bullet had penetrated the + heart. Death must have been instantaneous. + + The most mysterious thing about this strange affair was + discovered during the autopsy. It is incredible, but it is + absolutely true, as it is vouched for under oath by the + authorities who were present, that the bullet which was found + in the heart of the dead man was made of solid gold. And yet, + strange as is this circumstance, it is still more a riddle how + the murderer could have escaped from the room where he had shot + down his victim, for the keys in both doors were in the locks + from the inside. We have evidently to do here with a criminal + of very unusual cleverness and it is therefore not surprising + that there has been no clue discovered thus far. The only + thing that is known is that this murder was an act of revenge. + +The entire city was in excitement over the mystery, even the police +station was shaken out of its usual business-like indifference. There +was no other topic of conversation in any of the rooms but the +mystery of the golden bullet and the doors closed from the inside. The +attendants and the policeman gathered whispering in the corners, +and strangers who came in on their own business forgot it in their +excitement over this new and fascinating mystery. + +That afternoon Muller passed through Horn’s office with a bundle of +papers, on his way to the inner office occupied by his patron, Chief of +Police Bauer. Horn, who had avoided Muller since yesterday although he +was conscious of a freshened interest in the man, raised his head and +watched the little detective as he walked across the room with his +usual quiet tread. The commissioner saw nothing but the usual humble +business-like manner to which he was accustomed--then suddenly +something happened that came to him like a distinct shock. Muller +stopped in his walk so suddenly that one foot was poised in the air. His +bowed head was thrown back, his face flushed to his forehead, and the +papers trembled in his hands. He ran the fingers of his unoccupied hand +through his hair and murmured audibly, “That dog! that dog!” It was +evident that some thought had struck him with such insistence as to +render him oblivious of his surroundings. Then he finally realised where +he was, and walked on quickly to Bauer’s room, his face still flushed, +his hands trembling. When he came out from the office again, he was his +usual quiet, humble self. + +But the commissioner, with his now greater knowledge of the little man’s +gifts and past, could not forget the incident. During the afternoon +he found himself repeating mechanically, “That dog--that dog.” But the +words meant nothing to him, hard as he might try to find the connection. + +When the commissioner left for his home late that afternoon, Muller +re-entered the office to lay some papers on the desk. His duties over, +he was about to turn out the gas, when his eye fell on the blotter on +Horn’s desk. He looked at it more closely, then burst into a loud +laugh. The same two words were scribbled again and again over the white +surface, but it was not the name of any fair maiden, or even the title +of a love poem; it was only the words, “That dog--” + +Several days had passed since the discovery of the murder. Fellner had +been buried and his possessions taken into custody by the authorities +until his heirs should appear. The dead man’s papers and affairs were +in excellent condition and the arranging of the inheritance had been +quickly done. Until the heirs should take possession, the apartment was +sealed by the police. There was nothing else to do in the matter, and +the commission appointed to make researches had discovered nothing of +value. The murderer might easily feel that he was absolutely safe by +this time. + +The day after the publication of the article we have quoted, Muller +appeared in Bauer’s office and asked for a few days’ leave. + +“In the Fellner case?” asked the Chief with his usual calm, and Muller +replied in the affirmative. + +Two days later he returned, bringing with him nothing but a single +little notice. + +“Marie Dorn, now Mrs. Kniepp,” was one line in his notebook, and beside +it some dates. The latter showed that Marie Dorn had for two years past +been the wife of the Archducal Forest-Councillor, Leo Kniepp. + +And for one year now Professor Paul Fellner had been in the town, after +having applied for his transference from the university in the capital +to this place, which was scarce half an hour’s walk distant from the +home of the beautiful young woman who had been the love of his youth. + +And Fellner had made his home in the quietest quarter of the city, in +that quarter which was nearest the Archducal hunting castle. He had +lived very quietly, had not cultivated the acquaintance of the ladies of +the town, but was a great walker and bicycle rider; and every Saturday +evening since he had been alone in the house, he had sent his servant +to the theatre. And it was on Saturday evenings that Forest-Councillor +Kniepp went to his Bowling Club at the other end of the city, and did +not return until the last train at midnight. + +And during these evening hours Fellner’s apartment was a convenient +place for pleasant meetings; and nothing prevented the Professor from +accompanying his beautiful friend home through the quiet Promenade, +along the turnpike to the hunting castle. And Johann had once found a +dog-whip in his master’s room-and Councillor Leo Kniepp, head of the +Forestry Department, was the possessor of a beautiful Ulmer hound which +took an active interest in people who wore clothes belonging to Fellner. + +Furthermore, in the little drawer of the bedside table in the murdered +man’s room, there had been found a tortoise-shell hairpin; and in the +corner of the vestibule of his house, a little mother-of-pearl glove +button, of the kind much in fashion that winter, because of a desire +on the part of the ladies of the town to help the home industry of the +neighbourhood. Mrs. Marie Kniepp was one of the fashionable women of the +town, and several days before the Professor was murdered, this woman +had thrown herself from the second-story window of her home, and her +husband, whose passionate eccentric nature was well known, had been a +changed man from that hour. + +It was his deep grief at the loss of his beloved wife that had turned +his hair grey and had drawn lines of terrible sorrow in his face--said +gossip. But Muller, who did not know Kniepp personally although he had +been taking a great interest in his affairs for the last few days, had +his own ideas on the subject, and he decided to make the acquaintance of +the Forest Councillor as soon as possible--that is, after he had found +out all there was to be found out about his affairs and his habits. + +Just a week after the murder, on Saturday evening therefore, the snow +was whirling merrily about the gables and cupolas of the Archducal +hunting castle. The weather-vanes groaned and the old trees in the park +bent their tall tops under the mad wind which swept across the earth and +tore the protecting snow covering from their branches. It was a stormy +evening, not one to be out in if a man had a warm corner in which to +hide. + +An old peddler was trying to find shelter from the rapidly increasing +storm under the lea of the castle wall. He crouched so close to the +stones that he could scarcely be seen at all, in spite of the light +from the snow. Finally he disappeared altogether behind one of the heavy +columns which sprang out at intervals from the magnificent wall. Only +his head peeped out occasionally as if looking for something. His dark, +thoughtful eyes glanced over the little village spread out on one side +of the castle, and over the railway station, its most imposing building. +Then they would turn back again to the entrance gate in the wall +near where he stood. It was a heavy iron-barred gate, its handsome +ornamentation outlined in snow, and behind it the body of a large dog +could be occasionally seen. This dog was an enormous grey Ulmer hound. + +The peddler stood for a long time motionless behind the pillar, then he +looked at his watch. “It’s nearly time,” he murmured, and looked over +towards the station again, where lights and figures were gathering. + +At the same time the noise of an opening door was heard, and steps +creaked over the snow. A man, evidently a servant, opened the little +door beside the great gate and held it for another man to pass +out. “You’ll come back by the night train as usual, sir?” he asked +respectfully. + +“Yes,” replied the other, pushing back the dog, which fawned upon him. + +“Come back here, Tristan,” called the servant, pulling the dog in by his +collar, as he closed the door and re-entered the house. + +The Councillor took the path to the station. He walked slowly, with +bowed head and uneven step. He did not look like a man who was in the +mood to join a merry crowd, and yet he was evidently going to his Club. +“He wants to show himself; he doesn’t want to let people think that he +has anything to be afraid of,” murmured the peddler, looking after him +sharply. Then his eyes suddenly dimmed and a light sigh was heard, +with another murmur, “Poor man.” The Councillor reached the station +and disappeared within its door. The train arrived and departed a few +moments later. Kniepp must have really gone to the city, for although +the man behind the pillar waited for some little time, the Councillor +did not return--a contingency that the peddler had not deemed +improbable. + +About half an hour after the departure of the train the watcher came out +of his hiding place and walked noisily past the gate. What he expected, +happened. The dog rushed up to the bars, barking loudly, but when the +peddler had taken a silk muffler from the pack on his back and held +it out to the animal, the noise ceased and the dog’s anger turned to +friendliness. Tristan was quite gentle, put his huge head up to the +bars to let the stranger pat it, and seemed not at all alarmed when the +latter rang the bell. + +The young man who had opened the door for the Councillor came out from +a wing of the castle. The peddler looked so frozen and yet so venerable +that the youth had not the heart to turn him away. Possibly he was glad +of a little diversion for his own sake. + +“Who do you want to see?” he asked. + +“I want to speak to the maid, the one who attended your dead mistress.” + +“Oh, then you know--?” + +“I know of the misfortune that has happened here.” + +“And you think that Nanette might have something to sell to you?” + +“Yes, that’s it; that’s why I came. For I don’t suppose there’s much +chance for any business with my cigar holders and other trifles here so +near the city.” + +“Cigar holders? Why, I don’t know; perhaps we can make a trade. Come in +with me. Why, just see how gentle the dog is with you!” + +“Isn’t he that way with everybody? I supposed he was no watchdog.” + +“Oh, indeed he is. He usually won’t allow anybody to touch him, except +those whom he knows well. I’m astonished that he lets you come to the +house at all.” + +They had reached the door by this time. The peddler laid his hand on the +servant’s arm and halted a moment. “Where was it that she threw herself +out?” + +“From the last window upstairs there.” + +“And did it kill her at once?” + +“Yes. Anyway she was unconscious when we came down.” + +“Was the master at home?” + +“Why, yes, it happened in the middle of the night.” + +“She had a fever, didn’t she? Had she been ill long?” + +“No. She was in bed that day, but we thought it was nothing of +importance.” + +“These fevers come on quickly sometimes,” remarked the old man wisely, +and added: “This case interests the entire neighbourhood and I will show +you that I can be grateful for anything you may tell me--of course, only +what a faithful servant could tell. It will interest my customers very +much.” + +“You know all there is to know,” said the valet, evidently disappointed +that he had nothing to tell which could win the peddler’s gratitude. +“There are no secrets about it. Everybody knows that they were a very +happy couple, and even if there was a little talk between them on that +day, why it was pure accident and had nothing to do with the mistress’ +excitement.” + +“Then there was a quarrel between them?” + +“Are people talking about it?” + +“I’ve heard some things said. They even say that this quarrel was the +reason for--her death.” + +“It’s stupid nonsense!” exclaimed the servant. The old peddler seemed to +like the young man’s honest indignation. + +While they were talking, they had passed through a long corridor and the +young man laid his hand on one of the doors as the peddler asked, “Can I +see Miss Nanette alone?” + +“Alone? Oho, she’s engaged to me!” + +“I know that,” said the stranger, who seemed to be initiated into all +the doings of this household. “And I am an old man--all I meant was that +I would rather not have any of the other servants about.” + +“I’ll keep the cook out of the way if you want me to.” + +“That would be a good idea. It isn’t easy to talk business before +others,” remarked the old man as they entered the room. It was a +comfortably furnished and cozily warm apartment. Only two people were +there, an old woman and a pretty young girl, who both looked up in +astonishment as the men came in. + +“Who’s this you’re bringing in, George?” asked Nanette. + +“He’s a peddler and he’s got some trifles here you might like to look +at.” + +“Why, yes, you wanted a thimble, didn’t you, Lena?” asked Nanette, and +the cook beckoned to the peddler. “Let’s see what you’ve got there,” she +said in a friendly tone. The old man pulled out his wares from his pack; +thimbles and scissors, coloured ribbons, silks, brushes and combs, and +many other trifles. When the women had made their several selections +they noticed that the old man was shivering with the cold, as he leaned +against the stove. Their sympathies were aroused in a moment. “Why don’t +you sit down?” asked Nanette, pushing a chair towards him, and Lena rose +to get him something warm from the kitchen. + +The peddler threw a look at George, who nodded in answer. “He said he’d +like to see the things they gave you after Mrs. Kniepp’s death,” the +young man remarked, + +“Do you buy things like that?” Nanette turned to the peddler. + +“I’d just like to look at them first, if you’ll let me.” + +“I’d be glad to get rid of them. But I won’t go upstairs, I’m afraid +there.” + +“Well, I’ll get the things for you if you want me to,” offered George +and turned to leave the room. The door had scarcely closed behind him +when a change came over the peddler. His old head rose from its drooping +position, his bowed figure started up with youthful elasticity. + +“Are you really fond of him?” he asked of the astonished Nanette, who +stepped back a pace, stammering in answer: “Yes. Why do you ask? and who +are you?” + +“Never mind that, my dear child, but just answer the questions I have to +ask, and answer truthfully, or it might occur to me to let your George +know that he is not the first man you have loved.” + +“What do you know?” she breathed in alarm. + +The peddler laughed. “Oho, then he’s jealous! All the better for me--the +Councillor was jealous too, wasn’t he?” Nanette looked at him in horror. + +“The truth, therefore, you must tell me the truth, and get the others +away, so I can speak to you alone. You must do this--or else I’ll tell +George about the handsome carpenter in Church street, or about Franz +Schmid, or--” + +“For God’s sake, stop--stop--I’ll do anything you say.” + +The girl sank back on her chair pale and trembling, while the peddler +resumed his pose of a tired old man leaning against the stove. When +George returned with a large basket, Nanette had calmed herself +sufficiently to go about the unpacking of the articles in the hamper. + +“George, won’t you please keep Lena out in the kitchen. Ask her to make +some tea for us,” asked Nanette with well feigned assurance. George +smiled a meaning smile and disappeared. + +“I am particularly interested in the dead lady’s gloves,” said the +peddler when they were alone again. + +Nanette looked at him in surprise but was still too frightened to offer +any remarks. She opened several boxes and packages and laid a number of +pairs of gloves on the table. The old man looked through them, turning +them over carefully. Then he shook his head: “There must be some more +somewhere,” he said. Nanette was no longer astonished at anything he +might say or do, so she obediently went through the basket again and +found a little box in which were several pair of grey suede gloves, +fastened by bluish mother-of-pearl buttons. One of the pairs had been +worn, and a button was missing. + +“These are the ones I was looking for,” said the peddler, putting the +gloves in his pocket. Then he continued: “Your mistress was rather fond +of taking long walks by herself, wasn’t she?” + +The girl’s pale face flushed hotly and she stammered: “You know--about +it?” + +“You know about it also, I see. And did you know everything?” + +“Yes, everything,” murmured Nanette. + +“Then it was you and Tristan who accompanied the lady on her walks?” + +“Yes.” + +“I supposed she must have taken some one into her confidence. Well, and +what do you think about the murder?” + +“The Professor?” replied Nanette hastily. “Why, what should I know about +it?” + +“The Councillor was greatly excited and very unhappy when he discovered +this affair, I suppose?” + +“He is still.” + +“And how did he act after the--let us call it the accident?” + +“He was like a crazy man.” + +“They tell me that he went about his duties just the same--that he went +away on business.” + +“It wasn’t business this time, at least not professional business. But +before that he did have to go away frequently for weeks at a time.” + +“And it was then that your mistress was most interested in her lonely +walks, eh?” + +“Yes.” Nanette’s voice was so low as to be scarcely heard. + +“Well, and this time?” continued the peddler. “Why did he go away this +time?” + +“He went to the capital on private business of his own.” + +“Are you sure of that?” + +“Quite sure. He went two different times. I thought it was because he +couldn’t stand it here and wanted to see something different. He went to +his club this evening, too.” + +“And when did he go away?” + +“The first time was the day after his wife was buried.” + +“And the second time?” + +“Two or three days after his return.” + +“How long did he stay away the first time?” + +“Only one day.” + +“Good! Pull yourself together now. I’ll send your George in to you and +tell him you haven’t been feeling well. Don’t tell any one about our +conversation. Where is the kitchen?” + +“The last door to the right down the hall.” + +The peddler left the room and Nanette sank down dazed and trembling on +the nearest chair. George found her still pale, but he seemed to think +it quite natural that she should have been overcome by the recollection +of the terrible death of her mistress. He gave the old man a most +cordial invitation to return during the next few days. The cook brought +the peddler a cup of steaming tea, and purchased several trifles from +him, before he left the house. + +When the old man had reached a lonely spot on the road, about half way +between the hunting castle and the city, he halted, set down his pack, +divested himself of his beard and his wig and washed the wrinkles from +his face with a handful of snow from the wayside. A quarter of an +hour later, Detective Muller entered the railway station of the city, +burdened with a large grip. He took a seat in the night express which +rolled out from the station a few moments later. + +As he was alone in his compartment, Muller gave way to his excitement, +sometimes even murmuring half-aloud the thoughts that rushed through his +brain. “Yes, I am convinced of it, but can I find the proofs?” the words +came again and again, and in spite of the comfortable warmth in the +compartment, in spite of his tired and half-frozen condition, he could +not sleep. + +He reached the capital at midnight and took a room in a small hotel in +a quiet street. When he went out next morning, the servants looked after +him with suspicion, as in their opinion a man who spent most of the +night pacing up and down his room must surely have a guilty conscience. + +Muller went to police headquarters and looked through the arrivals at +the hotels on the 21st of November. The burial of Mrs. Kniepp had +taken place on the 20th. Muller soon found the name he was looking +for, “Forest Councillor Leo Kniepp,” in the list of guests at the Hotel +Imperial. The detective went at once to the Hotel Imperial, where he was +already well known. It cost him little time and trouble to discover what +he wished to know, the reason for the Councillor’s visit to the capital. + +Kniepp had asked for the address of a goldsmith, and had been directed +to one of the shops which had the best reputation in the city. He had +been in the capital altogether for about twenty-four hours. He had the +manner and appearance of a man suffering under some terrible blow. + +Muller himself was deep in thought as he entered the train to return +to his home, after a visit to the goldsmith in question. He had a short +interview with Chief of Police Bauer, who finally gave him the golden +bullet and the keys to the apartment of the murdered man. Then the two +went out together. + +An hour later, the chief of police and Muller stood in the garden of +the house in which the murder had occurred. Bauer had entered from the +Promenade after Muller had shown him how to work the lock of the little +gate. Together they went up into the apartment, which was icy cold and +uncanny in its loneliness. But the two men did not appear to notice +this, so greatly were they interested in the task that had brought them +there. First of all, they made a most minute examination of the two +doors which had been locked. The keys were still in both locks on +the inside. They were big heavy keys, suitable for the tall massive +heavily-panelled and iron-ornamented doors. The entire villa was built +in this heavy old German style, the favourite fashion of the last few +years. + +When they had looked the locks over carefully, Muller lit the lamp that +hung over the desk in the study and closed the window shutters tight. +Bauer had smiled at first as he watched his protege’s actions, but +his smile changed to a look of keen interest as he suddenly understood. +Muller took his place in the chair before the desk and looked over at +the door of the vestibule, which was directly opposite him. “Yes, that’s +all right,” he said with a deep breath. + +Bauer had sat down on the sofa to watch the proceedings, now he sprang +up with an exclamation: “Through the keyhole?” + +“Through the keyhole,” answered Muller. + +“It is scarcely possible.” + +“Shall we try it?” + +“Yes, yes, you do it.” Even the usually indifferent old chief of police +was breathing more hastily now. Muller took a roll of paper and a small +pistol out of his pocket. He unrolled the paper, which represented +the figure of a French soldier with a marked target on the breast. The +detective pinned the paper on the back of the chair in which Professor +Fellner had been seated when he met his death. + +“But the key was in the hole,” objected Bauer suddenly. + +“Yes, but it was turned so that the lower part of the hole was free. +Johann saw the light streaming through and could look into the room. +If the murderer put the barrel of his pistol to this open part of the +keyhole, the bullet would have to strike exactly where the dead man sat. +There would be no need to take any particular aim.” Muller gazed into +space like a seer before whose mental eye a vision has arisen, and +continued in level tones: “Fellner had refused the duel and the murderer +was crazed by his desire for revenge. He came here to the house, he must +have known just how to enter the place, how to reach the rooms, and he +must have known also, that the Professor, coward as he was--” + +“Coward? Is a man a coward when he refuses to stand up to a maniac?” + interrupted Bauer. + +Muller came back to the present with a start and said calmly, “Fellner +was a coward.” + +“Then you know more than you are telling me now?” + +Muller nodded. “Yes, I do,” he answered with a smile. “But I will tell +you more only when I have all the proofs in my own hand.” + +“And the criminal will escape us in the meantime.” + +“He has no idea that he is suspected.” + +“But--you’ll promise to be sensible this time, Muller?” + +“Yes. But you will pardon me my present reticence, even towards you? +I--I don’t want to be thought a dreamer again.” + +“As in the Kniepp case?” + +“As in the Kniepp case,” repeated the little man with a strange smile. +“So please allow me to go about it in my own way. I will tell you all +you want to know to-morrow.” + +“To-morrow, then.” + +“May I now continue to unfold my theories?” Bauer nodded and Muller +continued: “The criminal wanted Fellner’s blood, no matter how.” + +“Even if it meant murder,” said Bauer. + +Muller nodded calmly. “It would have been nobler, perhaps, to have +warned his victim of his approach, but it might have all come to nothing +then. The other could have called for help, could have barricaded +himself in his room, one crime might have been prevented, and another, +more shameful one, would have gone unavenged.” + +“Another crime? Fellner a criminal?” + +“To-morrow you shall know everything, my kind friend. And now, let us +make the trial. Please lock the door behind me as it was locked then.” + +Muller left the room, taking the pistol with him. Bauer locked the door. +“Is this right?” he asked. + +“Yes, I can see a wide curve of the room, taking in the entire desk. +Please stand to one side now.” + +There was deep silence for a moment, then a slight sound as of metal +on metal, then a report, and Muller re-entered the study through the +bedroom. He found Bauer stooping over the picture of the French soldier. +There was a hole in the left breast, where the bullet, passing through, +had buried itself in the back of the chair. + +“Yes, it was all just as you said,” began the chief of police, holding +out his hand to Muller. “But--why the golden bullet?” + +“To-morrow, to-morrow,” replied the detective, looking up at his +superior with a glance of pleading. + +They left the house together and in less than an hour’s time Muller was +again in the train rolling towards the capital. + +He went to the goldsmith’s shop as soon as he arrived. The proprietor +received him with eager interest and Muller handed him the golden +bullet. “Here is the golden object of which I spoke,” said the +detective, paying no heed to the other’s astonishment. The goldsmith +opened a small locked drawer, took a ring from it and set about an +examination of the two little objects. When he turned to his visitor +again, he was evidently satisfied with what he had discovered. “These +two objects are made of exactly the same sort of gold, of a peculiar +old French composition, which can no longer be produced in the same +richness. The weight of the gold in the bullet is exactly the same as in +the ring.” + +“Would you be willing to take an oath on that if you were called in as +an expert?” + +“I am willing to stand up for my judgment.” + +“Good. And now will you read this over please, it contains the substance +of what you told me yesterday. Should I have made any mistakes, please +correct them, for I will ask you to set your signature to it.” + +Muller handed several sheets of close writing to the goldsmith and the +latter read aloud as follows: “On the 22nd of November, a gentleman came +into my shop and handed me a wedding ring with the request that I should +make another one exactly like it. He was particularly anxious that the +work should be done in two days at the very latest, and also that the +new ring, in form, colour, and in the engraving on the inside, should +be a perfect counterpart of the first. He explained his order by saying +that his wife was ill, and that she was grieving over the loss of her +wedding ring which had somehow disappeared. The new ring could be found +somewhere as if by chance and the sick woman’s anxiety would be over. +Two days later, as arranged, the same gentleman appeared again and I +handed him the two rings. + +“He left the shop, greatly satisfied with my work and apparently much +relieved in his mind. But he left me uneasy in spirit because I had +deceived him. It had not been possible for me to reproduce exactly the +composition of the original ring, and as I believed that the work was to +be done in order to comfort an invalid, and I was getting no profit, +but on the contrary a little extra work out of it, I made two new rings, +lettered them according to the original and gave them to my customer. +The original ring I am now, on this seventh day of December, giving to +Mr. Joseph Mullet, who has shown me his legitimation as a member of +the Secret Police. I am willing to put myself at the service of the +authorities if I am called for.” + +“You are willing to do this, aren’t you?” asked Muller when the +goldsmith had arrived at the end of the notice. + +“Of course.” + +“Have you anything to add to this?” + +“No, it is quite complete. I will sign it at once.” + +Several hours later, Muller re-entered the police station in his home +town and saw the windows of the chief’s apartment brilliantly lighted. +“What’s going on,” he asked of Bauer’s servant who was just hurrying up +the stairs. + +“The mistress’ birthday, we’ve got company.” + +Muller grumbled something and went on up to his own room. He knew it +would not be pleasant for his patron to be disturbed in the midst of +entertaining his guests, but the matter was important and could not +wait. + +The detective laid off his outer garments, made a few changes in his +toilet and putting the goldsmith’s declaration, with the ring and +the bullet in his pocketbook, he went down to the first floor of the +building, in one wing of which was the apartment occupied by the Chief. +He sent in his name and was told to wait in the little study. He sat +down quietly in a corner of the comfortable little room beyond which, +in a handsomely furnished smoking room, a number of guests sat playing +cards. From the drawing rooms beyond, there was the sound of music and +many voices. + +It was all very attractive and comfortable, and the solitary man sat +there enjoying once more the pleasant sensation of triumph, of joy at +the victory that was his alone and that would win him back all his old +friends and prestige. He was looking forward in agreeable anticipation +to the explanations he had to give, when he suddenly started and grew +pale. His eyes dimmed a moment, then he pulled himself together and +murmured: “No, no, not this time. I will not be weak this time.” + +Just then the Chief entered the room, accompanied by Councillor Kniepp. + +“Won’t you sit down here a little?” asked the friendly host. “You will +find it much quieter in this room.” He pulled up a little table laden +with cigars and wine, close to a comfortable armchair. Then, noticing +Muller, he continued with a friendly nod: “I’m glad they told you to +wait in here. You must be frozen after your long ride. If you will wait +just a moment more, I will return at once and we can go into my office. +And if you will make yourself comfortable here, my dear Kniepp, I will +send our friend Horn in to talk with you. He is bright and jovial and +will keep you amused.” + +The chief chattered on, making a strenuous endeavour to appear quite +harmless. But Kniepp, more apt than ever just now to notice the +actions of others, saw plainly that his genial host was concealing some +excitement. When the latter had gone out the Councillor looked +after him, shaking his head. Then his glance fell by chance on the +quiet-looking man who had risen at his entrance and had not sat down +again. + +“Please sit down,” he said in a friendly tone, but the other did not +move. His grey eyes gazed intently at the man whose fate he was to +change so horribly. + +Kniepp grew uneasy under the stare. “What is there that interests you so +about me?” he asked in a tone that was an attempt at a joke. + +“The ring, the ring on your watch chain,” murmured Muller. + +“It belonged to my dead wife. I have worn it since she left me,” + answered the unhappy man with the same iron calm with which he had, all +these past days, been emphasizing his love for the woman he had lost. +Yet the question touched him unpleasantly and he looked more sharply at +the strange man over in the corner. He saw the latter’s face turn pale +and a shiver run through his form. A feeling of sympathy came over +Kniepp and he asked warmly: “Won’t you take a glass of this wine? If you +have been out in the cold it will be good for you.” His tone was gentle, +almost cordial, but the man to whom he offered the refreshment turned +from him with a gesture that was almost one of terror. + +The Councillor rose suddenly from his chair. “Who are you? What news is +it you bring?” he asked with a voice that began to tremble. + +Muller raised his head sharply as if his decision had been made, and his +kind intelligent eyes grew soft as they rested on the pale face of +the stately man before him. “I belong to the Secret Police and I +am compelled to find out the secrets of others--not because of my +profession--no, because my own nature compels me--I must do it. I have +just come from Vienna and I bring the last of the proofs necessary to +turn you over to the courts. And yet you are a thousand times better +than the coward who stole the honour of your wife and who hid behind +the shelter of the law--and therefore, therefore, therefore--” Muller’s +voice grew hoarse, then died away altogether. + +Kniepp listened with pallid cheeks but without a quiver. Now he spoke, +completing the other’s words: “And therefore you wish to save me from +the prison or from the gallows? I thank you. What is your name?” The +unhappy man spoke as calmly as if the matter scarcely concerned him at +all. + +The detective told him his name. + +“Muller, Muller,” repeated the Councillor, as if he were particularly +anxious to remember the name. He held out his hand to the detective. +“I thank you, indeed, thank you,” he said with the first sign +of emotion he had shown, and then added low: “Do not fear that you will +have trouble on my account. They can find me in my home.” With these +words he turned away and sat down in his chair again. When Bauer entered +the room a few moments later, Kniepp was smoking calmly. + +“Now, Muller, I’m ready. Horn will be in in a moment, friend Kniepp; I +know you will enjoy his chatter.” The chief led the way out of the room +through another door. He could not see the ghastly pale face of the +guest he left behind him, for it was almost hidden in a cloud of thick +smoke, but Muller turned back once more at the threshold and caught +a last grateful glance from eyes shadowed by deep sadness, as the +Councillor raised his hand in a friendly gesture. + +“Dear Muller, you take so long to get at the point of the story! Don’t +you see you are torturing me?” This outburst came from the Chief +about an hour later. But the detective would not permit himself to be +interrupted in spinning out his story in his own way, and it was nearly +another hour before Bauer knew that the man for whose name he had been +waiting so long was Leo Kniepp. + +The knowledge came as a terrible surprise to him. He was dazed almost. +“And I,--I’ve got to arrest him in my own house?” he exclaimed as if +horrified. And Muller answered calmly: “I doubt if you will have the +opportunity, sir.” + +“Muller! Did you, again--” + +“Yes, I did! I have again warned an unfortunate. It’s my nature, I +can’t seem to help it. But you will find the Councillor in his house. He +promised me that.” + +“And you believe it?” + +“That man will keep his promise,” said Muller quietly. + +Councillor Kniepp did keep his promise. When the police arrived at the +hunting castle shortly after midnight, they found the terrified servants +standing by the body of their master. + +“Well, Muller, you had better luck than you deserved this time,” Bauer +said a few days later. “This last trick has made you quite impossible +for the service. But you needn’t worry about that, because the legacy +Kniepp left you will put you out of reach of want.” + +The detective was as much surprised as anybody. He was as if dazed by +his unexpected good fortune. The day before he was a poor man bowed +under the weight of sordid cares, and now he was the possessor of twenty +thousand gulden. And it was not his clever brain but his warm heart that +had won this fortune for him. His breast swelled with gratitude as he +thought of the unhappy man whose life had been ruined by the careless +cruelty of others and his own passions. Again and again he read the +letter which had been found on Kniepp’s desk, addressed to him and which +had been handed out to him after the inquest. + + My friend:-- + + You have saved me from the shame of an open trial. I thank you + for this from the very depth of my heart. I have left you a + part of my own private fortune, that you may be a free man, free + as a poor man never can be. You can accept this present for it + comes from the hand of an honest man in spite of all. Yes, I + compelled my wife to go to her death after I had compelled her + to confess her shame to me, and I entered her lover’s house with + the knowledge I had forced from her. When I looked through the + keyhole and saw his false face before me, I murdered him in cold + blood. Then, that the truth might not be suspected, I continued + to play the sorrowing husband. I wore on my watch chain the ring + I had had made in imitation of the one my wife had worn. This + original ring of hers, her wedding ring which she had defiled, + I sent in the form of a bullet straight to her lover’s heart. + Yes, I have committed a crime, but I feel that I am less criminal + than those two whom I judged and condemned, and whose sentence I + carried out as I now shall carry out my own sentence with a hand + which will not tremble. That I can do this myself, I have you to + thank for, you who can look into the souls of men and recognise + the most hidden motives, you who have not only a wonderful brain + but a heart that can feel. You, I hope, will sometimes think + kindly of your grateful + + LEO KNIEPP. + +Muller kept this letter as one of his most sacred treasures. + +The “Kniepp Case” was really, as Bauer had predicted, the last in +Muller’s public career. Even the friendliness of the kind old chief +could not keep him in his position after this new display of the +unreliability of his heart. But his quiet tastes allowed him to live in +humble comfort from the income of his little fortune. + +Every now and then letters or telegrams will come for him and he will +disappear for several days. His few friends believe that the police +authorities, who refused to employ him publicly owing to his strange +weakness, cannot resist a private appeal to his talent whenever a +particularly difficult case arises. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Case of the Golden Bullet, by +Grace Isabel Colbron, and Augusta Groner + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CASE OF THE GOLDEN BULLET *** + +***** This file should be named 1836-0.txt or 1836-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/3/1836/ + +Produced by An Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteer + +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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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/1836-0.zip b/1836-0.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..315306a --- /dev/null +++ b/1836-0.zip diff --git a/1836-h.zip b/1836-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1c7f786 --- /dev/null +++ b/1836-h.zip diff --git a/1836-h/1836-h.htm b/1836-h/1836-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5c7571a --- /dev/null +++ b/1836-h/1836-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2505 @@ +<?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 Golden Bullet, by Grace Isabel Colbron, and Augusta Groner + </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 Case of the Golden Bullet, by +Grace Isabel Colbron, and 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 Case of the Golden Bullet + +Author: Grace Isabel Colbron, and Augusta Groner + +Release Date: September 26, 2008 [EBook #1836] +Last Updated: October 14, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CASE OF THE GOLDEN BULLET *** + + + + +Produced by An Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteer, and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE CASE OF THE GOLDEN BULLET + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + by Grace Isabel Colbron, and Augusta Groner + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </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> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + THE CASE OF THE GOLDEN BULLET + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + “Please, sir, there is a man outside who asks to see you.” + </p> + <p> + “What does he want?” asked Commissioner Horn, looking up. + </p> + <p> + “He says he has something to report, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Send him in, then.” + </p> + <p> + The attendant disappeared, and the commissioner looked up at the clock. It + was just striking eleven, but the fellow official who was to relieve him + at that hour had not yet appeared. And if this should chance to be a new + case, he would probably be obliged to take it himself. The commissioner + was not in a very good humour as he sat back to receive the young man who + entered the room in the wake of the attendant. The stranger was a sturdy + youth, with an unintelligent, good-natured face. He twisted his soft hat + in his hands in evident embarrassment, and his eyes wandered helplessly + about the great bare room. + </p> + <p> + “Who are you?” demanded the commissioner. + </p> + <p> + “My name is Dummel, sir, Johann Dummel.” + </p> + <p> + “And your occupation?” + </p> + <p> + “My occupation? Oh, yes, I—I am a valet, valet to Professor + Fellner.” + </p> + <p> + The commissioner sat up and looked interested. He knew Fellner personally + and liked him. “What have you to report to me?” he asked eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “I—I don’t know whether I ought to have come here, but at home—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, is anything the matter?” insisted Horn. + </p> + <p> + “Why, sir, I don’t know; but the Professor—he is so still—he + doesn’t answer.” + </p> + <p> + Horn sprang from his chair. “Is he ill?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know, sir. His room is locked—he never locked it before.” + </p> + <p> + “And you are certain he is at home?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. I saw him during the night—and the key is in the lock on + the inside.” + </p> + <p> + The commissioner had his hat in his hand when the colleague who was to + relieve him appeared. “Good and cold out to-day!” was the latter’s + greeting. Horn answered with an ironical: “Then I suppose you’ll be glad + if I relieve you of this case. But I assure you I wouldn’t do it if it + wasn’t Fellner. Good-bye. Oh, and one thing more. Please send a physician + at once to Fellner’s house, No. 7 Field Street.” + </p> + <p> + Horn opened the door and passed on into the adjoining room, accompanied by + Johann. The commissioner halted a moment as his eyes fell upon a little + man who sat in the corner reading a newspaper. “Hello, Muller; you there? + Suppose I take you with me? You aren’t doing anything now, are you?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. + </p> + <p> + “Well, come with me, then. If this should turn out to be anything serious, + we may need you.” + </p> + <p> + The three men entered one of the cabs waiting outside the police station. + As they rattled through the streets, Commissioner Horn continued his + examination of the valet. “When did you see your master last?” + </p> + <p> + “About eleven o’clock last evening.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you speak with him then? + </p> + <p> + “No, I looked through the keyhole.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, indeed; is that a habit of yours?” + </p> + <p> + Dummel blushed deeply, but his eyes flashed, and he looked angry. + </p> + <p> + “No, it is not, sir,” he growled. “I only did it this time because I was + anxious about the master. He’s been so worked up and nervous the last few + days. Last night I went to the theatre, as I always do Saturday evenings. + When I returned, about half-past ten it was, I knocked at the door of his + bedroom. He didn’t answer, and I walked away softly, so as not to disturb + him in case he’d gone to sleep already. The hall was dark, and as I went + through it I saw a ray of light coming from the keyhole of the Professor’s + study. That surprised me, because he never worked as late as that before. + I thought it over a moment, then I crept up and looked through the + keyhole.” + </p> + <p> + “And what did you see?” + </p> + <p> + “He sat at his desk, quite quiet. So I felt easy again, and went off to + bed.” + </p> + <p> + “Why didn’t you go into the room?” + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t dare, sir. The Professor never wanted to be disturbed when he + was writing.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, and this morning?” + </p> + <p> + “I got up at the usual time this morning, set the breakfast table, and + then knocked at the Professor’s bedroom door to waken him. He didn’t + answer, and I thought he might want to sleep, seeing as it was Sunday, and + he was up late last night. So I waited until ten o’clock. Then I knocked + again and tried the door, but it was locked. That made me uneasy, because + he never locked his bedroom door before. I banged at the door and called + out, but there wasn’t a sound. Then I ran to the police station.” + </p> + <p> + Horn was evidently as alarmed as was the young valet. But Muller’s cheeks + were flushed and a flash of secret joy, of pleasurable expectation, + brightened his deep-set, grey eyes. He sat quite motionless, but every + nerve in his body was alive and tingling. The humble-looking little man + had become quite another and a decidedly interesting person. He laid his + thin, nervous hand on the carriage door. + </p> + <p> + “We are not there yet,” said the commissioner. + </p> + <p> + “No, but it’s the third house from here,” replied Muller. + </p> + <p> + “You know where everybody lives, don’t you?” smiled Horn. + </p> + <p> + “Nearly everybody,” answered Muller gently, as the cab stopped before an + attractive little villa surrounded by its own garden, as were most of the + houses in this quiet, aristocratic part of the town. + </p> + <p> + The house was two stories high, but the upper windows were closed and + tightly curtained. This upper story was the apartment occupied by the + owner of the house, who was now in Italy with his invalid wife. Otherwise + the dainty little villa, built in the fashionable Nuremberg style, with + heavy wooden doors and lozenged-paned windows, had no occupants except + Professor Fellner and his servant. With its graceful outlines and + well-planned garden, the dwelling had a most attractive appearance. + Opposite it was the broad avenue known as the Promenade, and beyond this + were open fields. To the right and to the left were similar villas in + their gardens. + </p> + <p> + Dummel opened the door and the three men entered the house. The + commissioner and the valet went in first, Muller following them more + slowly. His sharp eyes glanced quickly over the coloured tiles of the + flooring, over the white steps and the carpeted hallway beyond. Once he + bent quickly and picked up something, then he walked on with his usual + quiet manner, out of which every trace of excitement had now vanished. + </p> + <p> + The dull winter sun seemed only to make the gloom of the dark vestibule + more visible. Johann turned up the light, and Horn, who had visited the + Professor several times and knew the situation of the rooms, went at once + to the heavy, carved and iron trimmed door of the study. He attempted to + open the door, but it resisted all pressure. The heavy key was in the + inner side of the big lock with its medieval iron ornamentation. But the + key was turned so that the lower part of the lock was free, a round + opening of unusual size. Horn made sure of this by holding a lighted match + to the door. + </p> + <p> + “You are right,” he said to the valet, “the door is locked from the + inside. We’ll have to go through the bedroom. Johann, bring me a chisel or + a hatchet. Muller, you stay here and open the door when the doctor comes.” + </p> + <p> + Muller nodded. Johann disappeared, returning in a few moments with a small + hatchet, and followed the commissioner through the dining-room. It was an + attractive apartment with its high wooden panelling and its dainty + breakfast table. But a slight shiver ran through the commissioner’s frame + as he realised that some misfortune, some crime even might be waiting for + them on the other side of the closed door. The bedroom door also was + locked on the inside, and after some moments of knocking and calling, Horn + set the hatchet to the framework just as the bell of the house-door pealed + out. + </p> + <p> + With a cracking and tearing of wood the bedroom door fell open, and in the + same moment Muller and the physician passed through the dining-room. + Johann hurried into the bedroom to open the window-shutters, and the + others gathered in the doorway. A single look showed each of the men that + the bed was untouched, and they passed on through the room. The door from + the bedroom to the study stood open. In the latter room the shutters were + tightly closed, and the lamp had long since gone out. But sufficient light + fell through the open bedroom door for the men to see the figure of the + Professor seated at his desk, and when Johann had opened the shutters, it + was plain to all that the silent figure before them was that of a corpse. + </p> + <p> + “Heart disease, probably,” murmured the physician, as he touched the icy + forehead. Then he felt the pulse of the stiffened hand from which the pen + had fallen in the moment of death, raised the drooping head and lifted up + the half-closed eyelids. The eyes were glazed. + </p> + <p> + The others looked on in silence. Horn was very pale, and his usually calm + face showed great emotion. Johann seemed quite beside himself, the tears + rolled down his cheeks unhindered. Muller stood without a sign of life, + his sallow face seemed made of bronze; he was watching and listening. He + seemed to hear and see what no one else could see or hear. He smiled + slightly when the doctor spoke of “heart disease,” and his eyes fell on + the revolver that lay near the dead man’s hand on the desk. Then he shook + his head, and then he started suddenly. Horn noticed the movement; it was + in the moment when the physician raised up the sunken figure that had + fallen half over the desk. + </p> + <p> + “He was killed by a bullet,” said Muller. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that was it,” replied the doctor. With the raising of the body the + dead man’s waistcoat fell back into its usual position, and they could see + a little round hole in his shirt. The doctor opened the shirt bosom and + pointed to a little wound in the Professor’s left breast. There were + scarcely three or four drops of blood visible. The hemorrhage had been + internal. + </p> + <p> + “He must have died at once, without suffering,” said the physician. + </p> + <p> + “He killed himself—he killed himself,” murmured Johann, as if + bewildered. + </p> + <p> + “It’s strange that he should have found time to lay down the revolver + before he died,” remarked Horn. Johann put out his hand and raised the + weapon before Horn could prevent him. “Leave that pistol where it was,” + commanded the commissioner. “We have to look into this matter more + closely.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor turned quickly. “You think it was a murder?” he exclaimed. “The + doors were both locked on the inside—where could the murderer be?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t pretend to see him myself yet. But our rule is to leave things as + they are discovered, until the official examination. Muller, did you shut + the outer door?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir; here is the key.” + </p> + <p> + “Johann, are there any more keys for the outer door?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. One more, that is, for the third was lost some months ago. The + Professor’s own key ought to be in the drawer of the little table beside + the bed.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you please look for it, Muller?” + </p> + <p> + Muller went into the bedroom and soon returned with the key, which he + handed to the commissioner. The detective had found something else in the + little table drawer—a tortoise-shell hairpin, which he had carefully + hidden in his own pocket before rejoining the others. + </p> + <p> + Horn turned to the servant again. “How many times have you been out of the + apartment since last night?” + </p> + <p> + “Once only, sir, to go to the police station to fetch you.” + </p> + <p> + “And you locked the door behind you?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, sir. You saw that I had to turn the key twice to let you in.” + </p> + <p> + Horn and Muller both looked the young man over very carefully. He seemed + perfectly innocent, and their suspicion that he might have turned the key + in pretense only, soon vanished. It would have been a foolish suspicion + anyway. If he were in league with the murderer, he could have let the + latter escape with much more safety during the night. Horn let his eyes + wander about the rooms again, and said slowly: “Then the murderer is still + here—or else—” + </p> + <p> + “Or else?” asked the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “Or else we have a strange riddle to solve.” + </p> + <p> + Johann had laid the pistol down again. Muller stretched forth his hand and + took it up. He looked at it a moment, then handed it to the commissioner. + “We have to do with a murder here. There was not a shot fired from this + revolver, for every chamber is still loaded. And there is no other weapon + in sight,” said the detective quietly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he was murdered. This revolver is fully loaded. Let us begin the + search at once.” Horn was more excited than he cared to show. + </p> + <p> + Johann looked about in alarm, but when he saw the others beginning to peer + into every corner and every cupboard, he himself joined in the man-hunt. A + quarter of an hour later, the four men relinquished their fruitless + efforts and gathered beside the corpse again. + </p> + <p> + “Doctor, will you have the kindness to report to the head Commissioner of + Police, and to order the taking away of the body? We will look about for + some motive for this murder in the meantime,” said Horn, as he held out + his hand to the physician. + </p> + <p> + Muller walked out to the door of the house with the doctor. + </p> + <p> + “Do you think this valet did it?” asked the physician softly. + </p> + <p> + “He? Oh, dear, no,” replied the detective scornfully. + </p> + <p> + “You think he’s too stupid? But this stupidity might be feigned.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s real enough, doctor.” + </p> + <p> + “But what do you think about it—you, who have the gift of seeing + more than other people see, even if it does bring you into disfavour with + the Powers that Be?” + </p> + <p> + “Then you don’t believe me yet?” + </p> + <p> + “You mean about the beautiful Mrs. Kniepp? + </p> + <p> + “And yet I tell you I am right. It was an intentional suicide.” + </p> + <p> + “Muller, Muller, you must keep better watch over your imagination and your + tongue! It is a dangerous thing to spread rumours about persons high in + favor with the Arch-duke. But you had better tell me what you think about + this affair,” continued the doctor, pointing back towards the room they + had just left. + </p> + <p> + “There’s a woman in the case.” + </p> + <p> + “Aha! you are romancing again. Well, they won’t be so sensitive about this + matter, but take care that you don’t make a mistake again, my dear Muller. + It would be likely to cost you your position, don’t forget that.” + </p> + <p> + The doctor left the house. Muller smiled bitterly as he closed the door + behind him, and murmured to himself: “Indeed, I do not forget it, and that + is why I shall take this matter into my own hands. But the Kniepp case is + not closed yet, by any means.” + </p> + <p> + When he returned to the study he saw Johann sitting quietly in a corner, + shaking his head, as if trying to understand it all. Horn was bending over + a sheet of writing paper which lay before the dead man. Fellner must have + been busy at his desk when the bullet penetrated his heart. His hand in + dying had let fall the pen, which had drawn a long black mark across the + bottom of the sheet. One page of the paper was covered with a small, + delicate handwriting. + </p> + <p> + Horn called up the detective, and together they read the following words: + </p> + <p> + “Dear Friend:— + </p> + <p> + “He challenged me—pistols—it means life or death. My enemy is + very bitter. But I am not ready to die yet. And as I know that I would be + the one to fall, I have refused the duel. That will help me little, for + his revenge will know how to find me. I dare not be a moment without a + weapon now—his threats on my refusal let me fear the worst. I have + an uncanny presentiment of evil. I shall leave here to-morrow. With the + excuse of having some pressing family affair to attend to, I have secured + several days’ leave. Of course I do not intend to return. I am hoping that + you will come here and break up my establishment in my stead. I will tell + you everything else when I see you. I am in a hurry now, for there is a + good deal of packing to do. If anything should happen to me, you will know + who it is who is responsible for my death. His name is—” + </p> + <p> + Here the letter came to an abrupt close. + </p> + <p> + Muller and Horn looked at each other in silence, then they turned their + eyes again toward the dead man. + </p> + <p> + “He was a coward,” said the detective coldly, and turned away. Horn + repeated mechanically, “A coward!” and his eyes also looked down with a + changed expression upon the handsome, soft-featured face, framed in curly + blond hair, that lay so silent against the chair-back. Many women had + loved this dead man, and many men had been fond of him, for they had + believed him capable and manly. + </p> + <p> + The commissioner and Muller continued their researches in silence and with + less interest than before. They found a heap of loose ashes in the bedroom + stove. Letters and other trifles had been burned there. Muller raked out + the heap very carefully, but the writing on the few pieces of paper still + left whole was quite illegible. There were several envelopes in the + waste-basket, but all of them were dated several months back. There was + nothing that could give the slightest clue. + </p> + <p> + The letter written by the murdered man was sufficient proof that his death + had been an act of vengeance. But who was it who had carried out this + secret, terrible deed? The victim had not been allowed the time to write + down the name of his murderer. + </p> + <p> + Horn took the letter into his keeping. Then he left the room, followed by + Muller and the valet, to look about the rest of the house as far as + possible. This was not very far, for the second story was closed off by a + tall iron grating. + </p> + <p> + “Is the house door locked during the daytime?” asked Horn of the servant. + </p> + <p> + “The front door is, but the side door into the garden is usually open.” + </p> + <p> + “Has it ever happened that any one got into the house from this side door + without your knowing it?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. The garden has a high wall around it. And there is extra + protection on the side toward the Promenade.” + </p> + <p> + “But there’s a little gate there?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Is that usually closed?” + </p> + <p> + “We never use the key for that, sir. It has a trick lock that you can’t + open unless you know how.” + </p> + <p> + “You said you went to the theatre yesterday evening. Did your master give + you permission to go?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. It’s about a year now that he gave me money for a theatre + ticket every Saturday evening. He was very kind.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you come into the house last night by the front door, or through the + garden?” + </p> + <p> + “Through the garden, sir. I walked down the Promenade from the theatre.” + </p> + <p> + “And you didn’t notice anything—you saw no traces of footsteps?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. I didn’t notice anything unusual. We shut the side door, the + garden door, every evening, also. It was closed yesterday and I found the + key—we’ve only got one key to the garden door—in the same + place where I was told to hide it when I went out in the evening.” + </p> + <p> + “What place was that?” + </p> + <p> + “In one of the pails by the well.” + </p> + <p> + “You say you were told to hide it there?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir; the Professor told me. He’d go out in the evening sometimes, + too, I suppose, and he wanted to be able to come in that way if + necessary.” + </p> + <p> + “And no one else knew where the key was hidden?” + </p> + <p> + “No one else, sir. It’s nearly a year now that we’ve been alone in the + house. Who else should know of it?” + </p> + <p> + “When you looked through the keyhole last night, are you sure that the + Professor was still alive?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, sir; of course I couldn’t say so surely. I thought he was + reading or writing, but oh, dear Lord! there he was this morning, nearly + twelve hours later, in just the same position.” Johann shivered at the + thought that he might have seen his master sitting at his desk, already a + corpse. + </p> + <p> + “He must have been dead when you came home. Don’t you think the sound of + that shot would have wakened you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, I think likely, sir,” murmured Johann. “But if the murderer + could get into the house, how could he get into the apartment?” + </p> + <p> + “There must have been a third key of which you knew nothing,” answered + Horn, turning to Muller again. “It’s stranger still how Fellner could have + been shot, for the window-shutters were fastened and quite uninjured, and + both doors were locked on the inside.” + </p> + <p> + As he said these words, Horn looked sharply at his subordinate; but + Muller’s calm face did not give the slightest clue to his thoughts. The + experienced police commissioner was pleased and yet slightly angered at + this behaviour on the part of the detective. He knew that it was quite + possible that Muller had already formed a clear opinion about the case, + and that he was merely keeping it to himself. And yet he was glad to see + that the little detective had apparently learned a lesson from his recent + mistake concerning the death of Mrs. Kniepp—that he had somewhat + lost confidence in his hitherto unerring instinct, and did not care to + express any opinion until he had studied the matter a little closer. The + commissioner was just a little bit vain, and just a little bit jealous of + this humble detective’s fame. + </p> + <p> + Muller shrugged his shoulders at the remark of his superior, and the two + men stood silent, thinking over the case, as the Chief of Police appeared, + accompanied by the doctor, a clerk, and two hospital attendants. The chief + commissioner received the report of what had been discovered, while the + corpse was laid on a bier to be taken to the hospital. + </p> + <p> + Muller handed the commissioner his hat and cane and helped him into his + overcoat. Horn noticed that the detective himself was making no + preparations to go out. “Aren’t you coming with us?” he asked, astonished. + </p> + <p> + “I hope the gentlemen will allow me to remain here for a little while,” + answered Muller modestly. + </p> + <p> + “But you know that we will have to close the apartment officially,” said + Horn, his voice sharpening in his surprise and displeasure. + </p> + <p> + “I do not need to be in these rooms any longer.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t let them disturb you, my dear Muller; we will allow your keenness + all possible leeway here.” The Head of Police spoke with calm politeness, + but Muller started and shivered. The emphasis on the “here” showed him + that even the head of the department had been incensed at his suggestion + that the beautiful Mrs. Kniepp had died of her own free will. It had been + his assertion of this which, coming to the ears of the bereaved husband, + had enraged and embittered him, and had turned the power of his influence + with the high authorities against the detective. Muller knew how greatly + he had fallen from favour in the Police Department, and the words of his + respected superior showed him that he was still in disgrace. + </p> + <p> + But the strange, quiet smile was still on his lips as, with his usual + humble deference, he accompanied the others to the sidewalk. Before the + commissioners left the house, the Chief commanded Johann to answer + carefully any questions Muller might put to him. + </p> + <p> + “He’ll find something, you may be sure,” said Horn, as they drove off in + the cab. + </p> + <p> + “Let him that’s his business. He is officially bound to see more than the + rest of us,” smiled the older official good-naturedly. “But in spite of + it, he’ll never get any further than the vestibule; he’ll be making bows + to us to the end of his days.” + </p> + <p> + “You think so? I’ve wondered at the man. I know his fame in the capital, + indeed, in police circles all over Austria and Germany. It seems hard on + him to be transferred to this small town, now that he is growing old. I’ve + wondered why he hasn’t done more for himself, with his gifts.” + </p> + <p> + “He never will,” replied the Chief. “He may win more fame—he may + still go on winning triumphs, but he will go on in a circle; he’ll never + forge ahead as his capabilities deserve. Muller’s peculiarity is that his + genius—for the man has undeniable genius—will always make + concessions to his heart just at the moment when he is about to do + something great—and his triumph is lost.” + </p> + <p> + Horn looked up at his superior, whom, in spite of his good nature, he knew + to be a sharp, keen, capable police official. “I forgot you have known + Muller longer than the rest of us,” he said. “What was that you said about + his heart?” + </p> + <p> + “I said that it is one of those inconvenient hearts that will always make + itself noticeable at the wrong time. Muller’s heart has played several + tricks on the police department, which has, at other times, profited so + well by his genius. He is a strange mixture. While he is on the trail of + the criminal he is like the bloodhound. He does not seem to know fatigue + nor hunger; his whole being is absorbed by the excitement of the chase. He + has done many a brilliant service to the cause of justice, he has + discovered the guilt, or the innocence, of many in cases where the + official department was as blind as Justice is proverbially supposed to + be. Joseph Muller has become the idol of all who are engaged in this weary + business of hunting down wrong and punishing crime. He is without a peer + in his profession. But he has also become the idol of some of the + criminals. For if he discovers (as sometimes happens) that the criminal is + a good sort after all, he is just as likely to warn his prey, once he has + all proofs of the guilt and a conviction is certain. Possibly this is his + way of taking the sting from his irresistible impulse to ferret out hidden + mysteries. But it is rather inconvenient, and he has hurt himself by it—hurt + himself badly. They were tired of his peculiarities at the capital, and + wanted to make his years an excuse to discharge him. I happened to get + wind of it, and it was my weakness for him that saved him.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, you brought him here when they transferred you to this town, I + remember now.” + </p> + <p> + “I’m afraid it wasn’t such a good thing for him, after all. Nothing ever + happens here, and a gift like Muller’s needs occupation to keep it fresh. + I’m afraid his talents will dull and wither here. The man has grown + perceptibly older in this inaction. His mind is like a high-bred horse + that needs exercise to keep it in good condition.” + </p> + <p> + “He hasn’t grown rich at his work, either,” said Horn. + </p> + <p> + “No, there’s not much chance for a police detective to get rich. I’ve + often wondered why Muller never had the energy to set up in business for + himself. He might have won fame and fortune as a private detective. But + he’s gone on plodding along as a police subordinate, and letting the + department get all the credit for his most brilliant achievements. It’s a + sort of incorrigible humbleness of nature—and then, you know, he had + the misfortune to be unjustly sentenced to a term in prison in his early + youth.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I did not know that.” + </p> + <p> + “The stigma stuck to his name, and finally drove him to take up this work. + I don’t think Muller realised, when he began, just how greatly he is + gifted. I don’t know that he really knows now. He seems to do it because + he likes it—he’s a queer sort of man.” + </p> + <p> + While the commissioners drove through the streets to the police station + the man of whom they were speaking sat in Johann’s little room in close + consultation with the valet. + </p> + <p> + “How long is it since the Professor began to give you money to go to the + theatre on Saturday evenings?” + </p> + <p> + “The first time it happened was on my name day.” + </p> + <p> +“What’s the rest of your + name? There are so many Johanns on the calendar.” + </p> + <p> + “I am Johann Nepomuk.” + </p> + <p> + Muller took a little calendar from his pocket and turned its pages. “It + was May sixteenth,” volunteered the valet. + </p> + <p> + “Quite right. May sixteenth was a Saturday. And since then you have gone + to the theatre every Saturday evening?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “When did the owner of the house go away?” + </p> + <p> + “Last April. His wife was ill and he had to take her away. They went to + Italy.” + </p> + <p> + “And you two have been alone in the house since April?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, we two.” + </p> + <p> + “Was there no janitor?” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir. The garden was taken care of by a man who came in for the day.” + </p> + <p> + “And you had no dog? I haven’t seen any around the place.” + </p> + <p> + “No, sir; the Professor did not like animals. But he must have been + thinking about buying a dog, because I found a new dog-whip in his room + one day.” + </p> + <p> + “Somebody might have left it there. One usually buys the dog first and + then the whip.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. But there wasn’t anybody here to forget it. The Professor did + not receive any visits at that time.” + </p> + <p> + “Why are you so sure of that?” + </p> + <p> + “Because it was the middle of summer, and everybody was away.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, then, we won’t bother about the whip. Can you tell me of any ladies + with whom the Professor was acquainted?” + </p> + <p> + “Ladies? I don’t know of any. Of course, the Professor was invited out a + good deal, and most of the other gentlemen from the college were married.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he ever receive letters from ladies?” continued Muller. + </p> + <p> + Johann thought the matter over, then confessed that he knew very little + about writing and couldn’t read handwriting very well anyway. But he + remembered to have seen a letter now and then, a little letter with a fine + and delicate handwriting. + </p> + <p> + “Have you any of these envelopes?” asked Muller. But Johann told him that + in spite of his usual carelessness in such matters, Professor Fellner + never allowed these letters to lie about his room. + </p> + <p> + Finally the detective came out with the question to which he had been + leading up. “Did your master ever receive visits from ladies?” + </p> + <p> + Johann looked extremely stupid at this moment. His lack of intelligence + and a certain crude sensitiveness in his nature made him take umbrage at + what appeared to him a very unnecessary question. He answered it with a + shake of the head only. Muller smiled at the young man’s ill-concealed + indignation and paid no attention to it. + </p> + <p> + “Your master has been here for about a year. Where was he before that?” + </p> + <p> + “In the capital.” + </p> + <p> + “You were in his service then?” + </p> + <p> + “I have been with him for three years.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he know any ladies in his former home?” + </p> + <p> + “There was one—I think he was engaged to her.” + </p> + <p> + “Why didn’t he marry her?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know.” + </p> + <p> + “What was her name?” + </p> + <p> + “Marie. That’s all I know about it.” + </p> + <p> + “Was she beautiful?” + </p> + <p> + “I never saw her. The only way I knew about her was when the Professor’s + friends spoke of her.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he have many friends?” + </p> + <p> + “There were ever so many gentlemen whom he called his friends.” + </p> + <p> + “Take me into the garden now.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir.” Muller took his hat and coat and followed the valet into the + garden. It was of considerable size, carefully and attractively planned, + and pleasing even now when the bare twigs bent under their load of snow. + </p> + <p> + “Now think carefully, Johann. We had a full moon last night. Don’t you + remember seeing any footsteps in the garden, leading away from the house?” + asked Muller, as they stood on the snow-covered paths. + </p> + <p> + Johann thought it over carefully, then said decidedly, “No. At least I + don’t remember anything of the kind. There was a strong wind yesterday + anyway, and the snow drifts easily out here. No tracks could remain clear + for long.” + </p> + <p> + The men walked down the straight path which led to the little gate in the + high wall. This gate had a secret lock, which, however, was neither hard + to find nor hard to open. Muller managed it with ease, and looked out + through the gate on the street beyond. The broad promenade, deserted now + in its winter snowiness, led away in one direction to the heart of the + city. In the other it ended in the main county high-road. This was a + broad, well-made turnpike, with footpath and rows of trees. A half-hour’s + walk along it would bring one to the little village clustering about the + Archduke’s favourite hunting castle. There was a little railway station + near the castle, but it was used only by suburban trains or for the royal + private car. + </p> + <p> + Muller did not intend to burden his brain with unnecessary facts, so with + his usual thoroughness he left the further investigation of what lay + beyond the gate, until he had searched the garden thoroughly. But even for + his sharp eyes there was no trace to be found that would tell of the night + visit of the murderer. + </p> + <p> + “In which of the pails did you put the key to the side door?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “In the first pail on the right hand side. But be careful, sir; there’s a + nail sticking out of the post there. The wind tore off a piece of wood + yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + The warning came too late. Muller’s sleeve tore apart with a sharp sound + just as Johann spoke, for the detective had already plunged his hand into + the pail. The bottom of the bucket was easy to reach, as this one hung + much lower than the others. Looking regretfully at the rent in his coat, + Muller asked for needle and thread that he might repair it sufficiently to + get home. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don’t bother about sewing it; I’ll lend you one of mine,” exclaimed + Johann. “I’ll carry this one home for you, for I’m not going to stay here + alone—I’d be afraid. I’m going to a friend’s house. You can find me + there any time you need me. You’d better take the key of the apartment and + give it to the police.” + </p> + <p> + The detective had no particular fondness for the task of sewing, and he + was glad to accept the valet’s friendly offering. He was rather astonished + at the evident costliness of the garment the young man handed him, and + when he spoke of it, the valet could not say enough in praise of the + kindness of his late master. He pulled out several other articles of + clothing, which, like the overcoat, had been given to him by Fellner. Then + he packed up a few necessities and announced himself as ready to start. He + insisted on carrying the torn coat, and Muller permitted it after some + protest. They carefully closed the apartment and the house, and walked + toward the centre of the city to the police station, where Muller lived. + </p> + <p> + As they crossed the square, it suddenly occurred to Johann that he had no + tobacco. He was a great smoker, and as he had many days of enforced + idleness ahead of him, he ran into a tobacco shop to purchase a + sufficiency of this necessity of life. + </p> + <p> + Muller waited outside, and his attention was attracted by a large grey + Ulmer hound which was evidently waiting for some one within the shop. The + dog came up to him in a most friendly manner, allowed him to pat its head, + rubbed up against him with every sign of pleasure, and would not leave him + even when he turned to go after Johann came out of the shop. Still + accompanied by the dog, the two men walked on quite a distance, when a + sharp whistle was heard behind them, and the dog became uneasy. He would + not leave them, however, until a powerful voice called “Tristan!” several + times. Muller turned and saw that Tristan’s master was a tall, stately man + wearing a handsome fur overcoat. + </p> + <p> + It was impossible to recognise his face at this distance, for the + snowflakes were whirling thickly in the air. But Muller was not + particularly anxious to recognise the stranger, as he had his head full of + more important thoughts. + </p> + <p> + When Johann had given his new address and remarked that he would call for + his coat soon, the men parted, and Muller returned to the police station. + </p> + <p> + The next day the principal newspaper of the town printed the following + notice: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + THE GOLDEN BULLET + + It is but a few days since we announced to our readers the sad + news of the death of a beautiful woman, whose leap from her + window, while suffering from the agonies of fever, destroyed + the happiness of an unusually harmonious marriage. And now we + are compelled to print the news of another equally sad as well + as mysterious occurrence. This time, Fate has demanded the + sacrifice of the life of a capable and promising young man. + Professor Paul Fellner, a member of the faculty of our college, + was found dead at his desk yesterday morning. It was thought at + first that it was a case of suicide, for doors and windows were + carefully closed from within and those who discovered the corpse + were obliged to break open one of the doors to get to it. And + a revolver was found lying close at hand, upon the desk. But + this revolver was loaded in every chamber and there was no other + weapon to be seen in the room. There was a bullet wound in the + left breast of the corpse, and the bullet had penetrated the + heart. Death must have been instantaneous. + + The most mysterious thing about this strange affair was + discovered during the autopsy. It is incredible, but it is + absolutely true, as it is vouched for under oath by the + authorities who were present, that the bullet which was found + in the heart of the dead man was made of solid gold. And yet, + strange as is this circumstance, it is still more a riddle how + the murderer could have escaped from the room where he had shot + down his victim, for the keys in both doors were in the locks + from the inside. We have evidently to do here with a criminal + of very unusual cleverness and it is therefore not surprising + that there has been no clue discovered thus far. The only + thing that is known is that this murder was an act of revenge. +</pre> + <p> + The entire city was in excitement over the mystery, even the police + station was shaken out of its usual business-like indifference. There was + no other topic of conversation in any of the rooms but the mystery of the + golden bullet and the doors closed from the inside. The attendants and the + policeman gathered whispering in the corners, and strangers who came in on + their own business forgot it in their excitement over this new and + fascinating mystery. + </p> + <p> + That afternoon Muller passed through Horn’s office with a bundle of + papers, on his way to the inner office occupied by his patron, Chief of + Police Bauer. Horn, who had avoided Muller since yesterday although he was + conscious of a freshened interest in the man, raised his head and watched + the little detective as he walked across the room with his usual quiet + tread. The commissioner saw nothing but the usual humble business-like + manner to which he was accustomed—then suddenly something happened + that came to him like a distinct shock. Muller stopped in his walk so + suddenly that one foot was poised in the air. His bowed head was thrown + back, his face flushed to his forehead, and the papers trembled in his + hands. He ran the fingers of his unoccupied hand through his hair and + murmured audibly, “That dog! that dog!” It was evident that some thought + had struck him with such insistence as to render him oblivious of his + surroundings. Then he finally realised where he was, and walked on quickly + to Bauer’s room, his face still flushed, his hands trembling. When he came + out from the office again, he was his usual quiet, humble self. + </p> + <p> + But the commissioner, with his now greater knowledge of the little man’s + gifts and past, could not forget the incident. During the afternoon he + found himself repeating mechanically, “That dog—that dog.” But the + words meant nothing to him, hard as he might try to find the connection. + </p> + <p> + When the commissioner left for his home late that afternoon, Muller + re-entered the office to lay some papers on the desk. His duties over, he + was about to turn out the gas, when his eye fell on the blotter on Horn’s + desk. He looked at it more closely, then burst into a loud laugh. The same + two words were scribbled again and again over the white surface, but it + was not the name of any fair maiden, or even the title of a love poem; it + was only the words, “That dog—” + </p> + <p> + Several days had passed since the discovery of the murder. Fellner had + been buried and his possessions taken into custody by the authorities + until his heirs should appear. The dead man’s papers and affairs were in + excellent condition and the arranging of the inheritance had been quickly + done. Until the heirs should take possession, the apartment was sealed by + the police. There was nothing else to do in the matter, and the commission + appointed to make researches had discovered nothing of value. The murderer + might easily feel that he was absolutely safe by this time. + </p> + <p> + The day after the publication of the article we have quoted, Muller + appeared in Bauer’s office and asked for a few days’ leave. + </p> + <p> + “In the Fellner case?” asked the Chief with his usual calm, and Muller + replied in the affirmative. + </p> + <p> + Two days later he returned, bringing with him nothing but a single little + notice. + </p> + <p> + “Marie Dorn, now Mrs. Kniepp,” was one line in his notebook, and beside it + some dates. The latter showed that Marie Dorn had for two years past been + the wife of the Archducal Forest-Councillor, Leo Kniepp. + </p> + <p> + And for one year now Professor Paul Fellner had been in the town, after + having applied for his transference from the university in the capital to + this place, which was scarce half an hour’s walk distant from the home of + the beautiful young woman who had been the love of his youth. + </p> + <p> + And Fellner had made his home in the quietest quarter of the city, in that + quarter which was nearest the Archducal hunting castle. He had lived very + quietly, had not cultivated the acquaintance of the ladies of the town, + but was a great walker and bicycle rider; and every Saturday evening since + he had been alone in the house, he had sent his servant to the theatre. + And it was on Saturday evenings that Forest-Councillor Kniepp went to his + Bowling Club at the other end of the city, and did not return until the + last train at midnight. + </p> + <p> + And during these evening hours Fellner’s apartment was a convenient place + for pleasant meetings; and nothing prevented the Professor from + accompanying his beautiful friend home through the quiet Promenade, along + the turnpike to the hunting castle. And Johann had once found a dog-whip + in his master’s room-and Councillor Leo Kniepp, head of the Forestry + Department, was the possessor of a beautiful Ulmer hound which took an + active interest in people who wore clothes belonging to Fellner. + </p> + <p> + Furthermore, in the little drawer of the bedside table in the murdered + man’s room, there had been found a tortoise-shell hairpin; and in the + corner of the vestibule of his house, a little mother-of-pearl glove + button, of the kind much in fashion that winter, because of a desire on + the part of the ladies of the town to help the home industry of the + neighbourhood. Mrs. Marie Kniepp was one of the fashionable women of the + town, and several days before the Professor was murdered, this woman had + thrown herself from the second-story window of her home, and her husband, + whose passionate eccentric nature was well known, had been a changed man + from that hour. + </p> + <p> + It was his deep grief at the loss of his beloved wife that had turned his + hair grey and had drawn lines of terrible sorrow in his face—said + gossip. But Muller, who did not know Kniepp personally although he had + been taking a great interest in his affairs for the last few days, had his + own ideas on the subject, and he decided to make the acquaintance of the + Forest Councillor as soon as possible—that is, after he had found + out all there was to be found out about his affairs and his habits. + </p> + <p> + Just a week after the murder, on Saturday evening therefore, the snow was + whirling merrily about the gables and cupolas of the Archducal hunting + castle. The weather-vanes groaned and the old trees in the park bent their + tall tops under the mad wind which swept across the earth and tore the + protecting snow covering from their branches. It was a stormy evening, not + one to be out in if a man had a warm corner in which to hide. + </p> + <p> + An old peddler was trying to find shelter from the rapidly increasing + storm under the lea of the castle wall. He crouched so close to the stones + that he could scarcely be seen at all, in spite of the light from the + snow. Finally he disappeared altogether behind one of the heavy columns + which sprang out at intervals from the magnificent wall. Only his head + peeped out occasionally as if looking for something. His dark, thoughtful + eyes glanced over the little village spread out on one side of the castle, + and over the railway station, its most imposing building. Then they would + turn back again to the entrance gate in the wall near where he stood. It + was a heavy iron-barred gate, its handsome ornamentation outlined in snow, + and behind it the body of a large dog could be occasionally seen. This dog + was an enormous grey Ulmer hound. + </p> + <p> + The peddler stood for a long time motionless behind the pillar, then he + looked at his watch. “It’s nearly time,” he murmured, and looked over + towards the station again, where lights and figures were gathering. + </p> + <p> + At the same time the noise of an opening door was heard, and steps creaked + over the snow. A man, evidently a servant, opened the little door beside + the great gate and held it for another man to pass out. “You’ll come back + by the night train as usual, sir?” he asked respectfully. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” replied the other, pushing back the dog, which fawned upon him. + </p> + <p> + “Come back here, Tristan,” called the servant, pulling the dog in by his + collar, as he closed the door and re-entered the house. + </p> + <p> + The Councillor took the path to the station. He walked slowly, with bowed + head and uneven step. He did not look like a man who was in the mood to + join a merry crowd, and yet he was evidently going to his Club. “He wants + to show himself; he doesn’t want to let people think that he has anything + to be afraid of,” murmured the peddler, looking after him sharply. Then + his eyes suddenly dimmed and a light sigh was heard, with another murmur, + “Poor man.” The Councillor reached the station and disappeared within its + door. The train arrived and departed a few moments later. Kniepp must have + really gone to the city, for although the man behind the pillar waited for + some little time, the Councillor did not return—a contingency that + the peddler had not deemed improbable. + </p> + <p> + About half an hour after the departure of the train the watcher came out + of his hiding place and walked noisily past the gate. What he expected, + happened. The dog rushed up to the bars, barking loudly, but when the + peddler had taken a silk muffler from the pack on his back and held it out + to the animal, the noise ceased and the dog’s anger turned to + friendliness. Tristan was quite gentle, put his huge head up to the bars + to let the stranger pat it, and seemed not at all alarmed when the latter + rang the bell. + </p> + <p> + The young man who had opened the door for the Councillor came out from a + wing of the castle. The peddler looked so frozen and yet so venerable that + the youth had not the heart to turn him away. Possibly he was glad of a + little diversion for his own sake. + </p> + <p> + “Who do you want to see?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “I want to speak to the maid, the one who attended your dead mistress.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, then you know—?” + </p> + <p> + “I know of the misfortune that has happened here.” + </p> + <p> + “And you think that Nanette might have something to sell to you?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that’s it; that’s why I came. For I don’t suppose there’s much + chance for any business with my cigar holders and other trifles here so + near the city.” + </p> + <p> + “Cigar holders? Why, I don’t know; perhaps we can make a trade. Come in + with me. Why, just see how gentle the dog is with you!” + </p> + <p> + “Isn’t he that way with everybody? I supposed he was no watchdog.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, indeed he is. He usually won’t allow anybody to touch him, except + those whom he knows well. I’m astonished that he lets you come to the + house at all.” + </p> + <p> + They had reached the door by this time. The peddler laid his hand on the + servant’s arm and halted a moment. “Where was it that she threw herself + out?” + </p> + <p> + “From the last window upstairs there.” + </p> + <p> + “And did it kill her at once?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Anyway she was unconscious when we came down.” + </p> + <p> + “Was the master at home?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, it happened in the middle of the night.” + </p> + <p> + “She had a fever, didn’t she? Had she been ill long?” + </p> + <p> + “No. She was in bed that day, but we thought it was nothing of + importance.” + </p> + <p> + “These fevers come on quickly sometimes,” remarked the old man wisely, and + added: “This case interests the entire neighbourhood and I will show you + that I can be grateful for anything you may tell me—of course, only + what a faithful servant could tell. It will interest my customers very + much.” + </p> + <p> + “You know all there is to know,” said the valet, evidently disappointed + that he had nothing to tell which could win the peddler’s gratitude. + “There are no secrets about it. Everybody knows that they were a very + happy couple, and even if there was a little talk between them on that + day, why it was pure accident and had nothing to do with the mistress’ + excitement.” + </p> + <p> + “Then there was a quarrel between them?” + </p> + <p> + “Are people talking about it?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ve heard some things said. They even say that this quarrel was the + reason for—her death.” + </p> + <p> + “It’s stupid nonsense!” exclaimed the servant. The old peddler seemed to + like the young man’s honest indignation. + </p> + <p> + While they were talking, they had passed through a long corridor and the + young man laid his hand on one of the doors as the peddler asked, “Can I + see Miss Nanette alone?” + </p> + <p> + “Alone? Oho, she’s engaged to me!” + </p> + <p> + “I know that,” said the stranger, who seemed to be initiated into all the + doings of this household. “And I am an old man—all I meant was that + I would rather not have any of the other servants about.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll keep the cook out of the way if you want me to.” + </p> + <p> + “That would be a good idea. It isn’t easy to talk business before + others,” remarked the old man as they entered the room. It was a + comfortably furnished and cozily warm apartment. Only two people were + there, an old woman and a pretty young girl, who both looked up in + astonishment as the men came in. + </p> + <p> + “Who’s this you’re bringing in, George?” asked Nanette. + </p> + <p> + “He’s a peddler and he’s got some trifles here you might like to look at.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, you wanted a thimble, didn’t you, Lena?” asked Nanette, and the + cook beckoned to the peddler. “Let’s see what you’ve got there,” she said + in a friendly tone. The old man pulled out his wares from his pack; + thimbles and scissors, coloured ribbons, silks, brushes and combs, and + many other trifles. When the women had made their several selections they + noticed that the old man was shivering with the cold, as he leaned against + the stove. Their sympathies were aroused in a moment. “Why don’t you sit + down?” asked Nanette, pushing a chair towards him, and Lena rose to get + him something warm from the kitchen. + </p> + <p> + The peddler threw a look at George, who nodded in answer. “He said he’d + like to see the things they gave you after Mrs. Kniepp’s death,” the young + man remarked, + </p> + <p> + “Do you buy things like that?” Nanette turned to the peddler. + </p> + <p> + “I’d just like to look at them first, if you’ll let me.” + </p> + <p> + “I’d be glad to get rid of them. But I won’t go upstairs, I’m afraid + there.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I’ll get the things for you if you want me to,” offered George and + turned to leave the room. The door had scarcely closed behind him when a + change came over the peddler. His old head rose from its drooping + position, his bowed figure started up with youthful elasticity. + </p> + <p> + “Are you really fond of him?” he asked of the astonished Nanette, who + stepped back a pace, stammering in answer: “Yes. Why do you ask? and who + are you?” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind that, my dear child, but just answer the questions I have to + ask, and answer truthfully, or it might occur to me to let your George + know that he is not the first man you have loved.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you know?” she breathed in alarm. + </p> + <p> + The peddler laughed. “Oho, then he’s jealous! All the better for me—the + Councillor was jealous too, wasn’t he?” Nanette looked at him in horror. + </p> + <p> + “The truth, therefore, you must tell me the truth, and get the others + away, so I can speak to you alone. You must do this—or else I’ll + tell George about the handsome carpenter in Church street, or about Franz + Schmid, or—” + </p> + <p> + “For God’s sake, stop—stop—I’ll do anything you say.” + </p> + <p> + The girl sank back on her chair pale and trembling, while the peddler + resumed his pose of a tired old man leaning against the stove. When George + returned with a large basket, Nanette had calmed herself sufficiently to + go about the unpacking of the articles in the hamper. + </p> + <p> + “George, won’t you please keep Lena out in the kitchen. Ask her to make + some tea for us,” asked Nanette with well feigned assurance. George smiled + a meaning smile and disappeared. + </p> + <p> + “I am particularly interested in the dead lady’s gloves,” said the peddler + when they were alone again. + </p> + <p> + Nanette looked at him in surprise but was still too frightened to offer + any remarks. She opened several boxes and packages and laid a number of + pairs of gloves on the table. The old man looked through them, turning + them over carefully. Then he shook his head: “There must be some more + somewhere,” he said. Nanette was no longer astonished at anything he might + say or do, so she obediently went through the basket again and found a + little box in which were several pair of grey suede gloves, fastened by + bluish mother-of-pearl buttons. One of the pairs had been worn, and a + button was missing. + </p> + <p> + “These are the ones I was looking for,” said the peddler, putting the + gloves in his pocket. Then he continued: “Your mistress was rather fond of + taking long walks by herself, wasn’t she?” + </p> + <p> + The girl’s pale face flushed hotly and she stammered: “You know—about + it?” + </p> + <p> + “You know about it also, I see. And did you know everything?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, everything,” murmured Nanette. + </p> + <p> + “Then it was you and Tristan who accompanied the lady on her walks?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “I supposed she must have taken some one into her confidence. Well, and + what do you think about the murder?” + </p> + <p> + “The Professor?” replied Nanette hastily. “Why, what should I know about + it?” + </p> + <p> + “The Councillor was greatly excited and very unhappy when he discovered + this affair, I suppose?” + </p> + <p> + “He is still.” + </p> + <p> + “And how did he act after the—let us call it the accident?” + </p> + <p> + “He was like a crazy man.” + </p> + <p> + “They tell me that he went about his duties just the same—that he + went away on business.” + </p> + <p> + “It wasn’t business this time, at least not professional business. But + before that he did have to go away frequently for weeks at a time.” + </p> + <p> + “And it was then that your mistress was most interested in her lonely + walks, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” Nanette’s voice was so low as to be scarcely heard. + </p> + <p> + “Well, and this time?” continued the peddler. “Why did he go away this + time?” + </p> + <p> + “He went to the capital on private business of his own.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure of that?” + </p> + <p> + “Quite sure. He went two different times. I thought it was because he + couldn’t stand it here and wanted to see something different. He went to + his club this evening, too.” + </p> + <p> + “And when did he go away?” + </p> + <p> + “The first time was the day after his wife was buried.” + </p> + <p> + “And the second time?” + </p> + <p> + “Two or three days after his return.” + </p> + <p> + “How long did he stay away the first time?” + </p> + <p> + “Only one day.” + </p> + <p> + “Good! Pull yourself together now. I’ll send your George in to you and + tell him you haven’t been feeling well. Don’t tell any one about our + conversation. Where is the kitchen?” + </p> + <p> + “The last door to the right down the hall.” + </p> + <p> + The peddler left the room and Nanette sank down dazed and trembling on the + nearest chair. George found her still pale, but he seemed to think it + quite natural that she should have been overcome by the recollection of + the terrible death of her mistress. He gave the old man a most cordial + invitation to return during the next few days. The cook brought the + peddler a cup of steaming tea, and purchased several trifles from him, + before he left the house. + </p> + <p> + When the old man had reached a lonely spot on the road, about half way + between the hunting castle and the city, he halted, set down his pack, + divested himself of his beard and his wig and washed the wrinkles from his + face with a handful of snow from the wayside. A quarter of an hour later, + Detective Muller entered the railway station of the city, burdened with a + large grip. He took a seat in the night express which rolled out from the + station a few moments later. + </p> + <p> + As he was alone in his compartment, Muller gave way to his excitement, + sometimes even murmuring half-aloud the thoughts that rushed through his + brain. “Yes, I am convinced of it, but can I find the proofs?” the words + came again and again, and in spite of the comfortable warmth in the + compartment, in spite of his tired and half-frozen condition, he could not + sleep. + </p> + <p> + He reached the capital at midnight and took a room in a small hotel in a + quiet street. When he went out next morning, the servants looked after him + with suspicion, as in their opinion a man who spent most of the night + pacing up and down his room must surely have a guilty conscience. + </p> + <p> + Muller went to police headquarters and looked through the arrivals at the + hotels on the 21st of November. The burial of Mrs. Kniepp had taken place + on the 20th. Muller soon found the name he was looking for, “Forest + Councillor Leo Kniepp,” in the list of guests at the Hotel Imperial. The + detective went at once to the Hotel Imperial, where he was already well + known. It cost him little time and trouble to discover what he wished to + know, the reason for the Councillor’s visit to the capital. + </p> + <p> + Kniepp had asked for the address of a goldsmith, and had been directed to + one of the shops which had the best reputation in the city. He had been in + the capital altogether for about twenty-four hours. He had the manner and + appearance of a man suffering under some terrible blow. + </p> + <p> + Muller himself was deep in thought as he entered the train to return to + his home, after a visit to the goldsmith in question. He had a short + interview with Chief of Police Bauer, who finally gave him the golden + bullet and the keys to the apartment of the murdered man. Then the two + went out together. + </p> + <p> + An hour later, the chief of police and Muller stood in the garden of the + house in which the murder had occurred. Bauer had entered from the + Promenade after Muller had shown him how to work the lock of the little + gate. Together they went up into the apartment, which was icy cold and + uncanny in its loneliness. But the two men did not appear to notice this, + so greatly were they interested in the task that had brought them there. + First of all, they made a most minute examination of the two doors which + had been locked. The keys were still in both locks on the inside. They + were big heavy keys, suitable for the tall massive heavily-panelled and + iron-ornamented doors. The entire villa was built in this heavy old German + style, the favourite fashion of the last few years. + </p> + <p> + When they had looked the locks over carefully, Muller lit the lamp that + hung over the desk in the study and closed the window shutters tight. + Bauer had smiled at first as he watched his protege’s actions, but his + smile changed to a look of keen interest as he suddenly understood. Muller + took his place in the chair before the desk and looked over at the door of + the vestibule, which was directly opposite him. “Yes, that’s all right,” + he said with a deep breath. + </p> + <p> + Bauer had sat down on the sofa to watch the proceedings, now he sprang up + with an exclamation: “Through the keyhole?” + </p> + <p> + “Through the keyhole,” answered Muller. + </p> + <p> + “It is scarcely possible.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall we try it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, you do it.” Even the usually indifferent old chief of police + was breathing more hastily now. Muller took a roll of paper and a small + pistol out of his pocket. He unrolled the paper, which represented the + figure of a French soldier with a marked target on the breast. The + detective pinned the paper on the back of the chair in which Professor + Fellner had been seated when he met his death. + </p> + <p> + “But the key was in the hole,” objected Bauer suddenly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but it was turned so that the lower part of the hole was free. + Johann saw the light streaming through and could look into the room. If + the murderer put the barrel of his pistol to this open part of the + keyhole, the bullet would have to strike exactly where the dead man sat. + There would be no need to take any particular aim.” Muller gazed into + space like a seer before whose mental eye a vision has arisen, and + continued in level tones: “Fellner had refused the duel and the murderer + was crazed by his desire for revenge. He came here to the house, he must + have known just how to enter the place, how to reach the rooms, and he + must have known also, that the Professor, coward as he was—” + </p> + <p> + “Coward? Is a man a coward when he refuses to stand up to a maniac?” + interrupted Bauer. + </p> + <p> + Muller came back to the present with a start and said calmly, “Fellner was + a coward.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you know more than you are telling me now?” + </p> + <p> + Muller nodded. “Yes, I do,” he answered with a smile. “But I will tell you + more only when I have all the proofs in my own hand.” + </p> + <p> + “And the criminal will escape us in the meantime.” + </p> + <p> + “He has no idea that he is suspected.” + </p> + <p> + “But—you’ll promise to be sensible this time, Muller?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. But you will pardon me my present reticence, even towards you? I—I + don’t want to be thought a dreamer again.” + </p> + <p> + “As in the Kniepp case?” + </p> + <p> + “As in the Kniepp case,” repeated the little man with a strange smile. “So + please allow me to go about it in my own way. I will tell you all you want + to know to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow, then.” + </p> + <p> + “May I now continue to unfold my theories?” Bauer nodded and Muller + continued: “The criminal wanted Fellner’s blood, no matter how.” + </p> + <p> + “Even if it meant murder,” said Bauer. + </p> + <p> + Muller nodded calmly. “It would have been nobler, perhaps, to have warned + his victim of his approach, but it might have all come to nothing then. + The other could have called for help, could have barricaded himself in his + room, one crime might have been prevented, and another, more shameful one, + would have gone unavenged.” + </p> + <p> + “Another crime? Fellner a criminal?” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow you shall know everything, my kind friend. And now, let us make + the trial. Please lock the door behind me as it was locked then.” + </p> + <p> + Muller left the room, taking the pistol with him. Bauer locked the door. + “Is this right?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I can see a wide curve of the room, taking in the entire desk. + Please stand to one side now.” + </p> + <p> + There was deep silence for a moment, then a slight sound as of metal on + metal, then a report, and Muller re-entered the study through the bedroom. + He found Bauer stooping over the picture of the French soldier. There was + a hole in the left breast, where the bullet, passing through, had buried + itself in the back of the chair. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it was all just as you said,” began the chief of police, holding out + his hand to Muller. “But—why the golden bullet?” + </p> + <p> + “To-morrow, to-morrow,” replied the detective, looking up at his superior + with a glance of pleading. + </p> + <p> + They left the house together and in less than an hour’s time Muller was + again in the train rolling towards the capital. + </p> + <p> + He went to the goldsmith’s shop as soon as he arrived. The proprietor + received him with eager interest and Muller handed him the golden bullet. + “Here is the golden object of which I spoke,” said the detective, paying + no heed to the other’s astonishment. The goldsmith opened a small locked + drawer, took a ring from it and set about an examination of the two little + objects. When he turned to his visitor again, he was evidently satisfied + with what he had discovered. “These two objects are made of exactly the + same sort of gold, of a peculiar old French composition, which can no + longer be produced in the same richness. The weight of the gold in the + bullet is exactly the same as in the ring.” + </p> + <p> + “Would you be willing to take an oath on that if you were called in as an + expert?” + </p> + <p> + “I am willing to stand up for my judgment.” + </p> + <p> + “Good. And now will you read this over please, it contains the substance + of what you told me yesterday. Should I have made any mistakes, please + correct them, for I will ask you to set your signature to it.” + </p> + <p> + Muller handed several sheets of close writing to the goldsmith and the + latter read aloud as follows: “On the 22nd of November, a gentleman came + into my shop and handed me a wedding ring with the request that I should + make another one exactly like it. He was particularly anxious that the + work should be done in two days at the very latest, and also that the new + ring, in form, colour, and in the engraving on the inside, should be a + perfect counterpart of the first. He explained his order by saying that + his wife was ill, and that she was grieving over the loss of her wedding + ring which had somehow disappeared. The new ring could be found somewhere + as if by chance and the sick woman’s anxiety would be over. Two days + later, as arranged, the same gentleman appeared again and I handed him the + two rings. + </p> + <p> + “He left the shop, greatly satisfied with my work and apparently much + relieved in his mind. But he left me uneasy in spirit because I had + deceived him. It had not been possible for me to reproduce exactly the + composition of the original ring, and as I believed that the work was to + be done in order to comfort an invalid, and I was getting no profit, but + on the contrary a little extra work out of it, I made two new rings, + lettered them according to the original and gave them to my customer. The + original ring I am now, on this seventh day of December, giving to Mr. + Joseph Mullet, who has shown me his legitimation as a member of the Secret + Police. I am willing to put myself at the service of the authorities if I + am called for.” + </p> + <p> + “You are willing to do this, aren’t you?” asked Muller when the goldsmith + had arrived at the end of the notice. + </p> + <p> + “Of course.” + </p> + <p> + “Have you anything to add to this?” + </p> + <p> + “No, it is quite complete. I will sign it at once.” + </p> + <p> + Several hours later, Muller re-entered the police station in his home town + and saw the windows of the chief’s apartment brilliantly lighted. “What’s + going on,” he asked of Bauer’s servant who was just hurrying up the + stairs. + </p> + <p> + “The mistress’ birthday, we’ve got company.” + </p> + <p> + Muller grumbled something and went on up to his own room. He knew it would + not be pleasant for his patron to be disturbed in the midst of + entertaining his guests, but the matter was important and could not wait. + </p> + <p> + The detective laid off his outer garments, made a few changes in his + toilet and putting the goldsmith’s declaration, with the ring and the + bullet in his pocketbook, he went down to the first floor of the building, + in one wing of which was the apartment occupied by the Chief. He sent in + his name and was told to wait in the little study. He sat down quietly in + a corner of the comfortable little room beyond which, in a handsomely + furnished smoking room, a number of guests sat playing cards. From the + drawing rooms beyond, there was the sound of music and many voices. + </p> + <p> + It was all very attractive and comfortable, and the solitary man sat there + enjoying once more the pleasant sensation of triumph, of joy at the + victory that was his alone and that would win him back all his old friends + and prestige. He was looking forward in agreeable anticipation to the + explanations he had to give, when he suddenly started and grew pale. His + eyes dimmed a moment, then he pulled himself together and murmured: “No, + no, not this time. I will not be weak this time.” + </p> + <p> + Just then the Chief entered the room, accompanied by Councillor Kniepp. + </p> + <p> + “Won’t you sit down here a little?” asked the friendly host. “You will + find it much quieter in this room.” He pulled up a little table laden with + cigars and wine, close to a comfortable armchair. Then, noticing Muller, + he continued with a friendly nod: “I’m glad they told you to wait in here. + You must be frozen after your long ride. If you will wait just a moment + more, I will return at once and we can go into my office. And if you will + make yourself comfortable here, my dear Kniepp, I will send our friend + Horn in to talk with you. He is bright and jovial and will keep you + amused.” + </p> + <p> + The chief chattered on, making a strenuous endeavour to appear quite + harmless. But Kniepp, more apt than ever just now to notice the actions of + others, saw plainly that his genial host was concealing some excitement. + When the latter had gone out the Councillor looked after him, shaking his + head. Then his glance fell by chance on the quiet-looking man who had + risen at his entrance and had not sat down again. + </p> + <p> + “Please sit down,” he said in a friendly tone, but the other did not move. + His grey eyes gazed intently at the man whose fate he was to change so + horribly. + </p> + <p> + Kniepp grew uneasy under the stare. “What is there that interests you so + about me?” he asked in a tone that was an attempt at a joke. + </p> + <p> + “The ring, the ring on your watch chain,” murmured Muller. + </p> + <p> + “It belonged to my dead wife. I have worn it since she left me,” answered + the unhappy man with the same iron calm with which he had, all these past + days, been emphasizing his love for the woman he had lost. Yet the + question touched him unpleasantly and he looked more sharply at the + strange man over in the corner. He saw the latter’s face turn pale and a + shiver run through his form. A feeling of sympathy came over Kniepp and he + asked warmly: “Won’t you take a glass of this wine? If you have been out + in the cold it will be good for you.” His tone was gentle, almost cordial, + but the man to whom he offered the refreshment turned from him with a + gesture that was almost one of terror. + </p> + <p> + The Councillor rose suddenly from his chair. “Who are you? What news is it + you bring?” he asked with a voice that began to tremble. + </p> + <p> + Muller raised his head sharply as if his decision had been made, and his + kind intelligent eyes grew soft as they rested on the pale face of the + stately man before him. “I belong to the Secret Police and I am compelled + to find out the secrets of others—not because of my profession—no, + because my own nature compels me—I must do it. I have just come from + Vienna and I bring the last of the proofs necessary to turn you over to + the courts. And yet you are a thousand times better than the coward who + stole the honour of your wife and who hid behind the shelter of the law—and + therefore, therefore, therefore—” Muller’s voice grew hoarse, then + died away altogether. + </p> + <p> + Kniepp listened with pallid cheeks but without a quiver. Now he spoke, + completing the other’s words: “And therefore you wish to save me from the + prison or from the gallows? I thank you. What is your name?” The unhappy + man spoke as calmly as if the matter scarcely concerned him at all. + </p> + <p> + The detective told him his name. + </p> + <p> + “Muller, Muller,” repeated the Councillor, as if he were particularly + anxious to remember the name. He held out his hand to the detective. “I + thank you, indeed, thank you,” he said with the first sign of + emotion he had shown, and then added low: “Do not fear that you will have + trouble on my account. They can find me in my home.” With these words he + turned away and sat down in his chair again. When Bauer entered the room a + few moments later, Kniepp was smoking calmly. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Muller, I’m ready. Horn will be in in a moment, friend Kniepp; I + know you will enjoy his chatter.” The chief led the way out of the room + through another door. He could not see the ghastly pale face of the guest + he left behind him, for it was almost hidden in a cloud of thick smoke, + but Muller turned back once more at the threshold and caught a last + grateful glance from eyes shadowed by deep sadness, as the Councillor + raised his hand in a friendly gesture. + </p> + <p> + “Dear Muller, you take so long to get at the point of the story! Don’t you + see you are torturing me?” This outburst came from the Chief about an hour + later. But the detective would not permit himself to be interrupted in + spinning out his story in his own way, and it was nearly another hour + before Bauer knew that the man for whose name he had been waiting so long + was Leo Kniepp. + </p> + <p> + The knowledge came as a terrible surprise to him. He was dazed almost. + “And I,—I’ve got to arrest him in my own house?” he exclaimed as if + horrified. And Muller answered calmly: “I doubt if you will have the + opportunity, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “Muller! Did you, again—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I did! I have again warned an unfortunate. It’s my nature, I can’t + seem to help it. But you will find the Councillor in his house. He + promised me that.” + </p> + <p> + “And you believe it?” + </p> + <p> + “That man will keep his promise,” said Muller quietly. + </p> + <p> + Councillor Kniepp did keep his promise. When the police arrived at the + hunting castle shortly after midnight, they found the terrified servants + standing by the body of their master. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Muller, you had better luck than you deserved this time,” Bauer + said a few days later. “This last trick has made you quite impossible for + the service. But you needn’t worry about that, because the legacy Kniepp + left you will put you out of reach of want.” + </p> + <p> + The detective was as much surprised as anybody. He was as if dazed by his + unexpected good fortune. The day before he was a poor man bowed under the + weight of sordid cares, and now he was the possessor of twenty thousand + gulden. And it was not his clever brain but his warm heart that had won + this fortune for him. His breast swelled with gratitude as he thought of + the unhappy man whose life had been ruined by the careless cruelty of + others and his own passions. Again and again he read the letter which had + been found on Kniepp’s desk, addressed to him and which had been handed + out to him after the inquest. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + My friend:— + + You have saved me from the shame of an open trial. I thank you + for this from the very depth of my heart. I have left you a + part of my own private fortune, that you may be a free man, free + as a poor man never can be. You can accept this present for it + comes from the hand of an honest man in spite of all. Yes, I + compelled my wife to go to her death after I had compelled her + to confess her shame to me, and I entered her lover’s house with + the knowledge I had forced from her. When I looked through the + keyhole and saw his false face before me, I murdered him in cold + blood. Then, that the truth might not be suspected, I continued + to play the sorrowing husband. I wore on my watch chain the ring + I had had made in imitation of the one my wife had worn. This + original ring of hers, her wedding ring which she had defiled, + I sent in the form of a bullet straight to her lover’s heart. + Yes, I have committed a crime, but I feel that I am less criminal + than those two whom I judged and condemned, and whose sentence I + carried out as I now shall carry out my own sentence with a hand + which will not tremble. That I can do this myself, I have you to + thank for, you who can look into the souls of men and recognise + the most hidden motives, you who have not only a wonderful brain + but a heart that can feel. You, I hope, will sometimes think + kindly of your grateful + + LEO KNIEPP. +</pre> + <p> + Muller kept this letter as one of his most sacred treasures. + </p> + <p> + The “Kniepp Case” was really, as Bauer had predicted, the last in Muller’s + public career. Even the friendliness of the kind old chief could not keep + him in his position after this new display of the unreliability of his + heart. But his quiet tastes allowed him to live in humble comfort from the + income of his little fortune. + </p> + <p> + Every now and then letters or telegrams will come for him and he will + disappear for several days. His few friends believe that the police + authorities, who refused to employ him publicly owing to his strange + weakness, cannot resist a private appeal to his talent whenever a + particularly difficult case arises. + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Case of the Golden Bullet, by +Grace Isabel Colbron, and Augusta Groner + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CASE OF THE GOLDEN BULLET *** + +***** This file should be named 1836-h.htm or 1836-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/3/1836/ + +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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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 Case of the Golden Bullet + +Author: Grace Isabel Colbron, and Augusta Groner + +Posting Date: September 26, 2008 [EBook #1836] +Release Date: July, 1999 +Last Updated: February 20, 2015 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CASE OF THE GOLDEN BULLET *** + + + + +Produced by An Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteer + + + + + +THE CASE OF THE GOLDEN BULLET + +by Grace Isabel Colbron, and Augusta Groner + + + + +INTRODUCTION TO JOE MULLER + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + + + + +THE CASE OF THE GOLDEN BULLET + + +"Please, sir, there is a man outside who asks to see you." + +"What does he want?" asked Commissioner Horn, looking up. + +"He says he has something to report, sir." + +"Send him in, then." + +The attendant disappeared, and the commissioner looked up at the clock. +It was just striking eleven, but the fellow official who was to relieve +him at that hour had not yet appeared. And if this should chance to be +a new case, he would probably be obliged to take it himself. The +commissioner was not in a very good humour as he sat back to receive +the young man who entered the room in the wake of the attendant. The +stranger was a sturdy youth, with an unintelligent, good-natured face. +He twisted his soft hat in his hands in evident embarrassment, and his +eyes wandered helplessly about the great bare room. + +"Who are you?" demanded the commissioner. + +"My name is Dummel, sir, Johann Dummel." + +"And your occupation?" + +"My occupation? Oh, yes, I--I am a valet, valet to Professor Fellner." + +The commissioner sat up and looked interested. He knew Fellner +personally and liked him. "What have you to report to me?" he asked +eagerly. + +"I--I don't know whether I ought to have come here, but at home--" + +"Well, is anything the matter?" insisted Horn. + +"Why, sir, I don't know; but the Professor--he is so still--he doesn't +answer." + +Horn sprang from his chair. "Is he ill?" he asked. + +"I don't know, sir. His room is locked--he never locked it before." + +"And you are certain he is at home?" + +"Yes, sir. I saw him during the night--and the key is in the lock on the +inside." + +The commissioner had his hat in his hand when the colleague who was +to relieve him appeared. "Good and cold out to-day!" was the latter's +greeting. Horn answered with an ironical: "Then I suppose you'll be glad +if I relieve you of this case. But I assure you I wouldn't do it if +it wasn't Fellner. Good-bye. Oh, and one thing more. Please send a +physician at once to Fellner's house, No. 7 Field Street." + +Horn opened the door and passed on into the adjoining room, accompanied +by Johann. The commissioner halted a moment as his eyes fell upon a +little man who sat in the corner reading a newspaper. "Hello, Muller; +you there? Suppose I take you with me? You aren't doing anything now, +are you?" + +"No, sir. + +"Well, come with me, then. If this should turn out to be anything +serious, we may need you." + +The three men entered one of the cabs waiting outside the police +station. As they rattled through the streets, Commissioner Horn +continued his examination of the valet. "When did you see your master +last?" + +"About eleven o'clock last evening." + +"Did you speak with him then? + +"No, I looked through the keyhole." + +"Oh, indeed; is that a habit of yours?" + +Dummel blushed deeply, but his eyes flashed, and he looked angry. + +"No, it is not, sir," he growled. "I only did it this time because I was +anxious about the master. He's been so worked up and nervous the last +few days. Last night I went to the theatre, as I always do Saturday +evenings. When I returned, about half-past ten it was, I knocked at the +door of his bedroom. He didn't answer, and I walked away softly, so +as not to disturb him in case he'd gone to sleep already. The hall was +dark, and as I went through it I saw a ray of light coming from the +keyhole of the Professor's study. That surprised me, because he never +worked as late as that before. I thought it over a moment, then I crept +up and looked through the keyhole." + +"And what did you see?" + +"He sat at his desk, quite quiet. So I felt easy again, and went off to +bed." + +"Why didn't you go into the room?" + +"I didn't dare, sir. The Professor never wanted to be disturbed when he +was writing." + +"Well, and this morning?" + +"I got up at the usual time this morning, set the breakfast table, and +then knocked at the Professor's bedroom door to waken him. He didn't +answer, and I thought he might want to sleep, seeing as it was Sunday, +and he was up late last night. So I waited until ten o'clock. Then +I knocked again and tried the door, but it was locked. That made me +uneasy, because he never locked his bedroom door before. I banged at the +door and called out, but there wasn't a sound. Then I ran to the police +station." + +Horn was evidently as alarmed as was the young valet. But Muller's +cheeks were flushed and a flash of secret joy, of pleasurable +expectation, brightened his deep-set, grey eyes. He sat quite +motionless, but every nerve in his body was alive and tingling. The +humble-looking little man had become quite another and a decidedly +interesting person. He laid his thin, nervous hand on the carriage door. + +"We are not there yet," said the commissioner. + +"No, but it's the third house from here," replied Muller. + +"You know where everybody lives, don't you?" smiled Horn. + +"Nearly everybody," answered Muller gently, as the cab stopped before +an attractive little villa surrounded by its own garden, as were most of +the houses in this quiet, aristocratic part of the town. + +The house was two stories high, but the upper windows were closed and +tightly curtained. This upper story was the apartment occupied by +the owner of the house, who was now in Italy with his invalid wife. +Otherwise the dainty little villa, built in the fashionable Nuremberg +style, with heavy wooden doors and lozenged-paned windows, had no +occupants except Professor Fellner and his servant. With its graceful +outlines and well-planned garden, the dwelling had a most attractive +appearance. Opposite it was the broad avenue known as the Promenade, and +beyond this were open fields. To the right and to the left were similar +villas in their gardens. + +Dummel opened the door and the three men entered the house. The +commissioner and the valet went in first, Muller following them more +slowly. His sharp eyes glanced quickly over the coloured tiles of the +flooring, over the white steps and the carpeted hallway beyond. Once he +bent quickly and picked up something, then he walked on with his usual +quiet manner, out of which every trace of excitement had now vanished. + +The dull winter sun seemed only to make the gloom of the dark vestibule +more visible. Johann turned up the light, and Horn, who had visited the +Professor several times and knew the situation of the rooms, went +at once to the heavy, carved and iron trimmed door of the study. He +attempted to open the door, but it resisted all pressure. The heavy +key was in the inner side of the big lock with its medieval iron +ornamentation. But the key was turned so that the lower part of the lock +was free, a round opening of unusual size. Horn made sure of this by +holding a lighted match to the door. + +"You are right," he said to the valet, "the door is locked from the +inside. We'll have to go through the bedroom. Johann, bring me a chisel +or a hatchet. Muller, you stay here and open the door when the doctor +comes." + +Muller nodded. Johann disappeared, returning in a few moments with a +small hatchet, and followed the commissioner through the dining-room. It +was an attractive apartment with its high wooden panelling and its dainty +breakfast table. But a slight shiver ran through the commissioner's +frame as he realised that some misfortune, some crime even might be +waiting for them on the other side of the closed door. The bedroom door +also was locked on the inside, and after some moments of knocking and +calling, Horn set the hatchet to the framework just as the bell of the +house-door pealed out. + +With a cracking and tearing of wood the bedroom door fell open, and in +the same moment Muller and the physician passed through the dining-room. +Johann hurried into the bedroom to open the window-shutters, and the +others gathered in the doorway. A single look showed each of the men +that the bed was untouched, and they passed on through the room. The +door from the bedroom to the study stood open. In the latter room the +shutters were tightly closed, and the lamp had long since gone out. But +sufficient light fell through the open bedroom door for the men to see +the figure of the Professor seated at his desk, and when Johann had +opened the shutters, it was plain to all that the silent figure before +them was that of a corpse. + +"Heart disease, probably," murmured the physician, as he touched the icy +forehead. Then he felt the pulse of the stiffened hand from which the +pen had fallen in the moment of death, raised the drooping head and +lifted up the half-closed eyelids. The eyes were glazed. + +The others looked on in silence. Horn was very pale, and his usually +calm face showed great emotion. Johann seemed quite beside himself, the +tears rolled down his cheeks unhindered. Muller stood without a sign +of life, his sallow face seemed made of bronze; he was watching and +listening. He seemed to hear and see what no one else could see or hear. +He smiled slightly when the doctor spoke of "heart disease," and his +eyes fell on the revolver that lay near the dead man's hand on the desk. +Then he shook his head, and then he started suddenly. Horn noticed the +movement; it was in the moment when the physician raised up the sunken +figure that had fallen half over the desk. + +"He was killed by a bullet," said Muller. + +"Yes, that was it," replied the doctor. With the raising of the body the +dead man's waistcoat fell back into its usual position, and they could +see a little round hole in his shirt. The doctor opened the shirt bosom +and pointed to a little wound in the Professor's left breast. There were +scarcely three or four drops of blood visible. The hemorrhage had been +internal. + +"He must have died at once, without suffering," said the physician. + +"He killed himself--he killed himself," murmured Johann, as if +bewildered. + +"It's strange that he should have found time to lay down the revolver +before he died," remarked Horn. Johann put out his hand and raised the +weapon before Horn could prevent him. "Leave that pistol where it was," +commanded the commissioner. "We have to look into this matter more +closely." + +The doctor turned quickly. "You think it was a murder?" he exclaimed. +"The doors were both locked on the inside--where could the murderer be?" + +"I don't pretend to see him myself yet. But our rule is to leave things +as they are discovered, until the official examination. Muller, did you +shut the outer door?" + +"Yes, sir; here is the key." + +"Johann, are there any more keys for the outer door?" + +"Yes, sir. One more, that is, for the third was lost some months ago. +The Professor's own key ought to be in the drawer of the little table +beside the bed." + +"Will you please look for it, Muller?" + +Muller went into the bedroom and soon returned with the key, which he +handed to the commissioner. The detective had found something else +in the little table drawer--a tortoise-shell hairpin, which he had +carefully hidden in his own pocket before rejoining the others. + +Horn turned to the servant again. "How many times have you been out of +the apartment since last night?" + +"Once only, sir, to go to the police station to fetch you." + +"And you locked the door behind you?" + +"Why, yes, sir. You saw that I had to turn the key twice to let you in." + +Horn and Muller both looked the young man over very carefully. He seemed +perfectly innocent, and their suspicion that he might have turned +the key in pretense only, soon vanished. It would have been a foolish +suspicion anyway. If he were in league with the murderer, he could have +let the latter escape with much more safety during the night. Horn +let his eyes wander about the rooms again, and said slowly: "Then the +murderer is still here--or else--" + +"Or else?" asked the doctor. + +"Or else we have a strange riddle to solve." + +Johann had laid the pistol down again. Muller stretched forth his +hand and took it up. He looked at it a moment, then handed it to the +commissioner. "We have to do with a murder here. There was not a shot +fired from this revolver, for every chamber is still loaded. And there +is no other weapon in sight," said the detective quietly. + +"Yes, he was murdered. This revolver is fully loaded. Let us begin the +search at once." Horn was more excited than he cared to show. + +Johann looked about in alarm, but when he saw the others beginning to +peer into every corner and every cupboard, he himself joined in the +man-hunt. A quarter of an hour later, the four men relinquished their +fruitless efforts and gathered beside the corpse again. + +"Doctor, will you have the kindness to report to the head Commissioner +of Police, and to order the taking away of the body? We will look about +for some motive for this murder in the meantime," said Horn, as he held +out his hand to the physician. + +Muller walked out to the door of the house with the doctor. + +"Do you think this valet did it?" asked the physician softly. + +"He? Oh, dear, no," replied the detective scornfully. + +"You think he's too stupid? But this stupidity might be feigned." + +"It's real enough, doctor." + +"But what do you think about it--you, who have the gift of seeing more +than other people see, even if it does bring you into disfavour with the +Powers that Be?" + +"Then you don't believe me yet?" + +"You mean about the beautiful Mrs. Kniepp? + +"And yet I tell you I am right. It was an intentional suicide." + +"Muller, Muller, you must keep better watch over your imagination and +your tongue! It is a dangerous thing to spread rumours about persons +high in favor with the Arch-duke. But you had better tell me what you +think about this affair," continued the doctor, pointing back towards +the room they had just left. + +"There's a woman in the case." + +"Aha! you are romancing again. Well, they won't be so sensitive about +this matter, but take care that you don't make a mistake again, my +dear Muller. It would be likely to cost you your position, don't forget +that." + +The doctor left the house. Muller smiled bitterly as he closed the door +behind him, and murmured to himself: "Indeed, I do not forget it, and +that is why I shall take this matter into my own hands. But the Kniepp +case is not closed yet, by any means." + +When he returned to the study he saw Johann sitting quietly in a corner, +shaking his head, as if trying to understand it all. Horn was bending +over a sheet of writing paper which lay before the dead man. Fellner +must have been busy at his desk when the bullet penetrated his heart. +His hand in dying had let fall the pen, which had drawn a long black +mark across the bottom of the sheet. One page of the paper was covered +with a small, delicate handwriting. + +Horn called up the detective, and together they read the following +words: + +"Dear Friend:-- + +"He challenged me--pistols--it means life or death. My enemy is very +bitter. But I am not ready to die yet. And as I know that I would be the +one to fall, I have refused the duel. That will help me little, for +his revenge will know how to find me. I dare not be a moment without a +weapon now--his threats on my refusal let me fear the worst. I have an +uncanny presentiment of evil. I shall leave here to-morrow. With the +excuse of having some pressing family affair to attend to, I have +secured several days' leave. Of course I do not intend to return. I +am hoping that you will come here and break up my establishment in my +stead. I will tell you everything else when I see you. I am in a hurry +now, for there is a good deal of packing to do. If anything should +happen to me, you will know who it is who is responsible for my death. +His name is--" + +Here the letter came to an abrupt close. + +Muller and Horn looked at each other in silence, then they turned their +eyes again toward the dead man. + +"He was a coward," said the detective coldly, and turned away. Horn +repeated mechanically, "A coward!" and his eyes also looked down with +a changed expression upon the handsome, soft-featured face, framed in +curly blond hair, that lay so silent against the chair-back. Many women +had loved this dead man, and many men had been fond of him, for they had +believed him capable and manly. + +The commissioner and Muller continued their researches in silence and +with less interest than before. They found a heap of loose ashes in the +bedroom stove. Letters and other trifles had been burned there. Muller +raked out the heap very carefully, but the writing on the few pieces of +paper still left whole was quite illegible. There were several envelopes +in the waste-basket, but all of them were dated several months back. +There was nothing that could give the slightest clue. + +The letter written by the murdered man was sufficient proof that his +death had been an act of vengeance. But who was it who had carried out +this secret, terrible deed? The victim had not been allowed the time to +write down the name of his murderer. + +Horn took the letter into his keeping. Then he left the room, followed +by Muller and the valet, to look about the rest of the house as far as +possible. This was not very far, for the second story was closed off by +a tall iron grating. + +"Is the house door locked during the daytime?" asked Horn of the +servant. + +"The front door is, but the side door into the garden is usually open." + +"Has it ever happened that any one got into the house from this side +door without your knowing it?" + +"No, sir. The garden has a high wall around it. And there is extra +protection on the side toward the Promenade." + +"But there's a little gate there?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Is that usually closed?" + +"We never use the key for that, sir. It has a trick lock that you can't +open unless you know how." + +"You said you went to the theatre yesterday evening. Did your master +give you permission to go?" + +"Yes, sir. It's about a year now that he gave me money for a theatre +ticket every Saturday evening. He was very kind." + +"Did you come into the house last night by the front door, or through +the garden?" + +"Through the garden, sir. I walked down the Promenade from the theatre." + +"And you didn't notice anything--you saw no traces of footsteps?" + +"No, sir. I didn't notice anything unusual. We shut the side door, the +garden door, every evening, also. It was closed yesterday and I found +the key--we've only got one key to the garden door--in the same place +where I was told to hide it when I went out in the evening." + +"What place was that?" + +"In one of the pails by the well." + +"You say you were told to hide it there?" + +"Yes, sir; the Professor told me. He'd go out in the evening sometimes, +too, I suppose, and he wanted to be able to come in that way if +necessary." + +"And no one else knew where the key was hidden?" + +"No one else, sir. It's nearly a year now that we've been alone in the +house. Who else should know of it?" + +"When you looked through the keyhole last night, are you sure that the +Professor was still alive?" + +"Why, yes, sir; of course I couldn't say so surely. I thought he was +reading or writing, but oh, dear Lord! there he was this morning, nearly +twelve hours later, in just the same position." Johann shivered at the +thought that he might have seen his master sitting at his desk, already +a corpse. + +"He must have been dead when you came home. Don't you think the sound of +that shot would have wakened you?" + +"Yes, sir, I think likely, sir," murmured Johann. "But if the murderer +could get into the house, how could he get into the apartment?" + +"There must have been a third key of which you knew nothing," answered +Horn, turning to Muller again. "It's stranger still how Fellner +could have been shot, for the window-shutters were fastened and quite +uninjured, and both doors were locked on the inside." + +As he said these words, Horn looked sharply at his subordinate; but +Muller's calm face did not give the slightest clue to his thoughts. The +experienced police commissioner was pleased and yet slightly angered at +this behaviour on the part of the detective. He knew that it was quite +possible that Muller had already formed a clear opinion about the case, +and that he was merely keeping it to himself. And yet he was glad to +see that the little detective had apparently learned a lesson from his +recent mistake concerning the death of Mrs. Kniepp--that he had somewhat +lost confidence in his hitherto unerring instinct, and did not care to +express any opinion until he had studied the matter a little closer. The +commissioner was just a little bit vain, and just a little bit jealous +of this humble detective's fame. + +Muller shrugged his shoulders at the remark of his superior, and the +two men stood silent, thinking over the case, as the Chief of Police +appeared, accompanied by the doctor, a clerk, and two hospital +attendants. The chief commissioner received the report of what had +been discovered, while the corpse was laid on a bier to be taken to the +hospital. + +Muller handed the commissioner his hat and cane and helped him into +his overcoat. Horn noticed that the detective himself was making +no preparations to go out. "Aren't you coming with us?" he asked, +astonished. + +"I hope the gentlemen will allow me to remain here for a little while," +answered Muller modestly. + +"But you know that we will have to close the apartment officially," said +Horn, his voice sharpening in his surprise and displeasure. + +"I do not need to be in these rooms any longer." + +"Don't let them disturb you, my dear Muller; we will allow your +keenness all possible leeway here." The Head of Police spoke with calm +politeness, but Muller started and shivered. The emphasis on the "here" +showed him that even the head of the department had been incensed at his +suggestion that the beautiful Mrs. Kniepp had died of her own free +will. It had been his assertion of this which, coming to the ears of +the bereaved husband, had enraged and embittered him, and had turned the +power of his influence with the high authorities against the detective. +Muller knew how greatly he had fallen from favour in the Police +Department, and the words of his respected superior showed him that he +was still in disgrace. + +But the strange, quiet smile was still on his lips as, with his usual +humble deference, he accompanied the others to the sidewalk. Before +the commissioners left the house, the Chief commanded Johann to answer +carefully any questions Muller might put to him. + +"He'll find something, you may be sure," said Horn, as they drove off in +the cab. + +"Let him that's his business. He is officially bound to see more than +the rest of us," smiled the older official good-naturedly. "But in spite +of it, he'll never get any further than the vestibule; he'll be making +bows to us to the end of his days." + +"You think so? I've wondered at the man. I know his fame in the capital, +indeed, in police circles all over Austria and Germany. It seems hard +on him to be transferred to this small town, now that he is growing old. +I've wondered why he hasn't done more for himself, with his gifts." + +"He never will," replied the Chief. "He may win more fame--he may still +go on winning triumphs, but he will go on in a circle; he'll never forge +ahead as his capabilities deserve. Muller's peculiarity is that his +genius--for the man has undeniable genius--will always make concessions +to his heart just at the moment when he is about to do something +great--and his triumph is lost." + +Horn looked up at his superior, whom, in spite of his good nature, he +knew to be a sharp, keen, capable police official. "I forgot you have +known Muller longer than the rest of us," he said. "What was that you +said about his heart?" + +"I said that it is one of those inconvenient hearts that will always +make itself noticeable at the wrong time. Muller's heart has played +several tricks on the police department, which has, at other times, +profited so well by his genius. He is a strange mixture. While he is on +the trail of the criminal he is like the bloodhound. He does not seem to +know fatigue nor hunger; his whole being is absorbed by the excitement +of the chase. He has done many a brilliant service to the cause of +justice, he has discovered the guilt, or the innocence, of many in cases +where the official department was as blind as Justice is proverbially +supposed to be. Joseph Muller has become the idol of all who are engaged +in this weary business of hunting down wrong and punishing crime. He +is without a peer in his profession. But he has also become the idol of +some of the criminals. For if he discovers (as sometimes happens) that +the criminal is a good sort after all, he is just as likely to warn his +prey, once he has all proofs of the guilt and a conviction is certain. +Possibly this is his way of taking the sting from his irresistible +impulse to ferret out hidden mysteries. But it is rather inconvenient, +and he has hurt himself by it--hurt himself badly. They were tired of +his peculiarities at the capital, and wanted to make his years an excuse +to discharge him. I happened to get wind of it, and it was my weakness +for him that saved him." + +"Yes, you brought him here when they transferred you to this town, I +remember now." + +"I'm afraid it wasn't such a good thing for him, after all. Nothing +ever happens here, and a gift like Muller's needs occupation to keep +it fresh. I'm afraid his talents will dull and wither here. The man has +grown perceptibly older in this inaction. His mind is like a high-bred +horse that needs exercise to keep it in good condition." + +"He hasn't grown rich at his work, either," said Horn. + +"No, there's not much chance for a police detective to get rich. I've +often wondered why Muller never had the energy to set up in business for +himself. He might have won fame and fortune as a private detective. But +he's gone on plodding along as a police subordinate, and letting the +department get all the credit for his most brilliant achievements. It's +a sort of incorrigible humbleness of nature--and then, you know, he had +the misfortune to be unjustly sentenced to a term in prison in his early +youth." + +"No, I did not know that." + +"The stigma stuck to his name, and finally drove him to take up this +work. I don't think Muller realised, when he began, just how greatly +he is gifted. I don't know that he really knows now. He seems to do it +because he likes it--he's a queer sort of man." + +While the commissioners drove through the streets to the police station +the man of whom they were speaking sat in Johann's little room in close +consultation with the valet. + +"How long is it since the Professor began to give you money to go to the +theatre on Saturday evenings?" + +"The first time it happened was on my name day." + +"What's the rest of your name? There are so many Johanns on the calendar." + +"I am Johann Nepomuk." + +Muller took a little calendar from his pocket and turned its pages. "It +was May sixteenth," volunteered the valet. + +"Quite right. May sixteenth was a Saturday. And since then you have gone +to the theatre every Saturday evening?" + +"Yes, sir. + +"When did the owner of the house go away?" + +"Last April. His wife was ill and he had to take her away. They went to +Italy." + +"And you two have been alone in the house since April?" + +"Yes, sir, we two." + +"Was there no janitor?" + +"No, sir. The garden was taken care of by a man who came in for the +day." + +"And you had no dog? I haven't seen any around the place." + +"No, sir; the Professor did not like animals. But he must have been +thinking about buying a dog, because I found a new dog-whip in his room +one day." + +"Somebody might have left it there. One usually buys the dog first and +then the whip." + +"Yes, sir. But there wasn't anybody here to forget it. The Professor did +not receive any visits at that time." + +"Why are you so sure of that?" + +"Because it was the middle of summer, and everybody was away." + +"Oh, then, we won't bother about the whip. Can you tell me of any ladies +with whom the Professor was acquainted?" + +"Ladies? I don't know of any. Of course, the Professor was invited out +a good deal, and most of the other gentlemen from the college were +married." + +"Did he ever receive letters from ladies?" continued Muller. + +Johann thought the matter over, then confessed that he knew very little +about writing and couldn't read handwriting very well anyway. But he +remembered to have seen a letter now and then, a little letter with a +fine and delicate handwriting. + +"Have you any of these envelopes?" asked Muller. But Johann told him +that in spite of his usual carelessness in such matters, Professor +Fellner never allowed these letters to lie about his room. + +Finally the detective came out with the question to which he had been +leading up. "Did your master ever receive visits from ladies?" + +Johann looked extremely stupid at this moment. His lack of intelligence +and a certain crude sensitiveness in his nature made him take umbrage at +what appeared to him a very unnecessary question. He answered it with a +shake of the head only. Muller smiled at the young man's ill-concealed +indignation and paid no attention to it. + +"Your master has been here for about a year. Where was he before that?" + +"In the capital." + +"You were in his service then?" + +"I have been with him for three years." + +"Did he know any ladies in his former home?" + +"There was one--I think he was engaged to her." + +"Why didn't he marry her?" + +"I don't know." + +"What was her name?" + +"Marie. That's all I know about it." + +"Was she beautiful?" + +"I never saw her. The only way I knew about her was when the Professor's +friends spoke of her." + +"Did he have many friends?" + +"There were ever so many gentlemen whom he called his friends." + +"Take me into the garden now." + +"Yes, sir." Muller took his hat and coat and followed the valet into the +garden. It was of considerable size, carefully and attractively planned, +and pleasing even now when the bare twigs bent under their load of snow. + +"Now think carefully, Johann. We had a full moon last night. Don't +you remember seeing any footsteps in the garden, leading away from the +house?" asked Muller, as they stood on the snow-covered paths. + +Johann thought it over carefully, then said decidedly, "No. At least I +don't remember anything of the kind. There was a strong wind yesterday +anyway, and the snow drifts easily out here. No tracks could remain +clear for long." + +The men walked down the straight path which led to the little gate in +the high wall. This gate had a secret lock, which, however, was neither +hard to find nor hard to open. Muller managed it with ease, and looked +out through the gate on the street beyond. The broad promenade, deserted +now in its winter snowiness, led away in one direction to the heart of +the city. In the other it ended in the main county high-road. This was +a broad, well-made turnpike, with footpath and rows of trees. A +half-hour's walk along it would bring one to the little village +clustering about the Archduke's favourite hunting castle. There was a +little railway station near the castle, but it was used only by suburban +trains or for the royal private car. + +Muller did not intend to burden his brain with unnecessary facts, so +with his usual thoroughness he left the further investigation of what +lay beyond the gate, until he had searched the garden thoroughly. But +even for his sharp eyes there was no trace to be found that would tell +of the night visit of the murderer. + +"In which of the pails did you put the key to the side door?" he asked. + +"In the first pail on the right hand side. But be careful, sir; there's +a nail sticking out of the post there. The wind tore off a piece of wood +yesterday." + +The warning came too late. Muller's sleeve tore apart with a sharp sound +just as Johann spoke, for the detective had already plunged his hand +into the pail. The bottom of the bucket was easy to reach, as this one +hung much lower than the others. Looking regretfully at the rent in +his coat, Muller asked for needle and thread that he might repair it +sufficiently to get home. + +"Oh, don't bother about sewing it; I'll lend you one of mine," exclaimed +Johann. "I'll carry this one home for you, for I'm not going to stay +here alone--I'd be afraid. I'm going to a friend's house. You can +find me there any time you need me. You'd better take the key of the +apartment and give it to the police." + +The detective had no particular fondness for the task of sewing, and +he was glad to accept the valet's friendly offering. He was rather +astonished at the evident costliness of the garment the young man handed +him, and when he spoke of it, the valet could not say enough in praise +of the kindness of his late master. He pulled out several other articles +of clothing, which, like the overcoat, had been given to him by Fellner. +Then he packed up a few necessities and announced himself as ready to +start. He insisted on carrying the torn coat, and Muller permitted it +after some protest. They carefully closed the apartment and the house, +and walked toward the centre of the city to the police station, where +Muller lived. + +As they crossed the square, it suddenly occurred to Johann that he had +no tobacco. He was a great smoker, and as he had many days of enforced +idleness ahead of him, he ran into a tobacco shop to purchase a +sufficiency of this necessity of life. + +Muller waited outside, and his attention was attracted by a large grey +Ulmer hound which was evidently waiting for some one within the shop. +The dog came up to him in a most friendly manner, allowed him to pat its +head, rubbed up against him with every sign of pleasure, and would not +leave him even when he turned to go after Johann came out of the shop. +Still accompanied by the dog, the two men walked on quite a distance, +when a sharp whistle was heard behind them, and the dog became uneasy. +He would not leave them, however, until a powerful voice called +"Tristan!" several times. Muller turned and saw that Tristan's master +was a tall, stately man wearing a handsome fur overcoat. + +It was impossible to recognise his face at this distance, for the +snowflakes were whirling thickly in the air. But Muller was not +particularly anxious to recognise the stranger, as he had his head full +of more important thoughts. + +When Johann had given his new address and remarked that he would call +for his coat soon, the men parted, and Muller returned to the police +station. + +The next day the principal newspaper of the town printed the following +notice: + + THE GOLDEN BULLET + + It is but a few days since we announced to our readers the sad + news of the death of a beautiful woman, whose leap from her + window, while suffering from the agonies of fever, destroyed + the happiness of an unusually harmonious marriage. And now we + are compelled to print the news of another equally sad as well + as mysterious occurrence. This time, Fate has demanded the + sacrifice of the life of a capable and promising young man. + Professor Paul Fellner, a member of the faculty of our college, + was found dead at his desk yesterday morning. It was thought at + first that it was a case of suicide, for doors and windows were + carefully closed from within and those who discovered the corpse + were obliged to break open one of the doors to get to it. And + a revolver was found lying close at hand, upon the desk. But + this revolver was loaded in every chamber and there was no other + weapon to be seen in the room. There was a bullet wound in the + left breast of the corpse, and the bullet had penetrated the + heart. Death must have been instantaneous. + + The most mysterious thing about this strange affair was + discovered during the autopsy. It is incredible, but it is + absolutely true, as it is vouched for under oath by the + authorities who were present, that the bullet which was found + in the heart of the dead man was made of solid gold. And yet, + strange as is this circumstance, it is still more a riddle how + the murderer could have escaped from the room where he had shot + down his victim, for the keys in both doors were in the locks + from the inside. We have evidently to do here with a criminal + of very unusual cleverness and it is therefore not surprising + that there has been no clue discovered thus far. The only + thing that is known is that this murder was an act of revenge. + +The entire city was in excitement over the mystery, even the police +station was shaken out of its usual business-like indifference. There +was no other topic of conversation in any of the rooms but the +mystery of the golden bullet and the doors closed from the inside. The +attendants and the policeman gathered whispering in the corners, +and strangers who came in on their own business forgot it in their +excitement over this new and fascinating mystery. + +That afternoon Muller passed through Horn's office with a bundle of +papers, on his way to the inner office occupied by his patron, Chief of +Police Bauer. Horn, who had avoided Muller since yesterday although he +was conscious of a freshened interest in the man, raised his head and +watched the little detective as he walked across the room with his +usual quiet tread. The commissioner saw nothing but the usual humble +business-like manner to which he was accustomed--then suddenly +something happened that came to him like a distinct shock. Muller +stopped in his walk so suddenly that one foot was poised in the air. His +bowed head was thrown back, his face flushed to his forehead, and the +papers trembled in his hands. He ran the fingers of his unoccupied hand +through his hair and murmured audibly, "That dog! that dog!" It was +evident that some thought had struck him with such insistence as to +render him oblivious of his surroundings. Then he finally realised where +he was, and walked on quickly to Bauer's room, his face still flushed, +his hands trembling. When he came out from the office again, he was his +usual quiet, humble self. + +But the commissioner, with his now greater knowledge of the little man's +gifts and past, could not forget the incident. During the afternoon +he found himself repeating mechanically, "That dog--that dog." But the +words meant nothing to him, hard as he might try to find the connection. + +When the commissioner left for his home late that afternoon, Muller +re-entered the office to lay some papers on the desk. His duties over, +he was about to turn out the gas, when his eye fell on the blotter on +Horn's desk. He looked at it more closely, then burst into a loud +laugh. The same two words were scribbled again and again over the white +surface, but it was not the name of any fair maiden, or even the title +of a love poem; it was only the words, "That dog--" + +Several days had passed since the discovery of the murder. Fellner had +been buried and his possessions taken into custody by the authorities +until his heirs should appear. The dead man's papers and affairs were +in excellent condition and the arranging of the inheritance had been +quickly done. Until the heirs should take possession, the apartment was +sealed by the police. There was nothing else to do in the matter, and +the commission appointed to make researches had discovered nothing of +value. The murderer might easily feel that he was absolutely safe by +this time. + +The day after the publication of the article we have quoted, Muller +appeared in Bauer's office and asked for a few days' leave. + +"In the Fellner case?" asked the Chief with his usual calm, and Muller +replied in the affirmative. + +Two days later he returned, bringing with him nothing but a single +little notice. + +"Marie Dorn, now Mrs. Kniepp," was one line in his notebook, and beside +it some dates. The latter showed that Marie Dorn had for two years past +been the wife of the Archducal Forest-Councillor, Leo Kniepp. + +And for one year now Professor Paul Fellner had been in the town, after +having applied for his transference from the university in the capital +to this place, which was scarce half an hour's walk distant from the +home of the beautiful young woman who had been the love of his youth. + +And Fellner had made his home in the quietest quarter of the city, in +that quarter which was nearest the Archducal hunting castle. He had +lived very quietly, had not cultivated the acquaintance of the ladies of +the town, but was a great walker and bicycle rider; and every Saturday +evening since he had been alone in the house, he had sent his servant +to the theatre. And it was on Saturday evenings that Forest-Councillor +Kniepp went to his Bowling Club at the other end of the city, and did +not return until the last train at midnight. + +And during these evening hours Fellner's apartment was a convenient +place for pleasant meetings; and nothing prevented the Professor from +accompanying his beautiful friend home through the quiet Promenade, +along the turnpike to the hunting castle. And Johann had once found a +dog-whip in his master's room-and Councillor Leo Kniepp, head of the +Forestry Department, was the possessor of a beautiful Ulmer hound which +took an active interest in people who wore clothes belonging to Fellner. + +Furthermore, in the little drawer of the bedside table in the murdered +man's room, there had been found a tortoise-shell hairpin; and in the +corner of the vestibule of his house, a little mother-of-pearl glove +button, of the kind much in fashion that winter, because of a desire +on the part of the ladies of the town to help the home industry of the +neighbourhood. Mrs. Marie Kniepp was one of the fashionable women of the +town, and several days before the Professor was murdered, this woman +had thrown herself from the second-story window of her home, and her +husband, whose passionate eccentric nature was well known, had been a +changed man from that hour. + +It was his deep grief at the loss of his beloved wife that had turned +his hair grey and had drawn lines of terrible sorrow in his face--said +gossip. But Muller, who did not know Kniepp personally although he had +been taking a great interest in his affairs for the last few days, had +his own ideas on the subject, and he decided to make the acquaintance of +the Forest Councillor as soon as possible--that is, after he had found +out all there was to be found out about his affairs and his habits. + +Just a week after the murder, on Saturday evening therefore, the snow +was whirling merrily about the gables and cupolas of the Archducal +hunting castle. The weather-vanes groaned and the old trees in the park +bent their tall tops under the mad wind which swept across the earth and +tore the protecting snow covering from their branches. It was a stormy +evening, not one to be out in if a man had a warm corner in which to +hide. + +An old peddler was trying to find shelter from the rapidly increasing +storm under the lea of the castle wall. He crouched so close to the +stones that he could scarcely be seen at all, in spite of the light +from the snow. Finally he disappeared altogether behind one of the heavy +columns which sprang out at intervals from the magnificent wall. Only +his head peeped out occasionally as if looking for something. His dark, +thoughtful eyes glanced over the little village spread out on one side +of the castle, and over the railway station, its most imposing building. +Then they would turn back again to the entrance gate in the wall +near where he stood. It was a heavy iron-barred gate, its handsome +ornamentation outlined in snow, and behind it the body of a large dog +could be occasionally seen. This dog was an enormous grey Ulmer hound. + +The peddler stood for a long time motionless behind the pillar, then he +looked at his watch. "It's nearly time," he murmured, and looked over +towards the station again, where lights and figures were gathering. + +At the same time the noise of an opening door was heard, and steps +creaked over the snow. A man, evidently a servant, opened the little +door beside the great gate and held it for another man to pass +out. "You'll come back by the night train as usual, sir?" he asked +respectfully. + +"Yes," replied the other, pushing back the dog, which fawned upon him. + +"Come back here, Tristan," called the servant, pulling the dog in by his +collar, as he closed the door and re-entered the house. + +The Councillor took the path to the station. He walked slowly, with +bowed head and uneven step. He did not look like a man who was in the +mood to join a merry crowd, and yet he was evidently going to his Club. +"He wants to show himself; he doesn't want to let people think that he +has anything to be afraid of," murmured the peddler, looking after him +sharply. Then his eyes suddenly dimmed and a light sigh was heard, +with another murmur, "Poor man." The Councillor reached the station +and disappeared within its door. The train arrived and departed a few +moments later. Kniepp must have really gone to the city, for although +the man behind the pillar waited for some little time, the Councillor +did not return--a contingency that the peddler had not deemed +improbable. + +About half an hour after the departure of the train the watcher came out +of his hiding place and walked noisily past the gate. What he expected, +happened. The dog rushed up to the bars, barking loudly, but when the +peddler had taken a silk muffler from the pack on his back and held +it out to the animal, the noise ceased and the dog's anger turned to +friendliness. Tristan was quite gentle, put his huge head up to the +bars to let the stranger pat it, and seemed not at all alarmed when the +latter rang the bell. + +The young man who had opened the door for the Councillor came out from +a wing of the castle. The peddler looked so frozen and yet so venerable +that the youth had not the heart to turn him away. Possibly he was glad +of a little diversion for his own sake. + +"Who do you want to see?" he asked. + +"I want to speak to the maid, the one who attended your dead mistress." + +"Oh, then you know--?" + +"I know of the misfortune that has happened here." + +"And you think that Nanette might have something to sell to you?" + +"Yes, that's it; that's why I came. For I don't suppose there's much +chance for any business with my cigar holders and other trifles here so +near the city." + +"Cigar holders? Why, I don't know; perhaps we can make a trade. Come in +with me. Why, just see how gentle the dog is with you!" + +"Isn't he that way with everybody? I supposed he was no watchdog." + +"Oh, indeed he is. He usually won't allow anybody to touch him, except +those whom he knows well. I'm astonished that he lets you come to the +house at all." + +They had reached the door by this time. The peddler laid his hand on the +servant's arm and halted a moment. "Where was it that she threw herself +out?" + +"From the last window upstairs there." + +"And did it kill her at once?" + +"Yes. Anyway she was unconscious when we came down." + +"Was the master at home?" + +"Why, yes, it happened in the middle of the night." + +"She had a fever, didn't she? Had she been ill long?" + +"No. She was in bed that day, but we thought it was nothing of +importance." + +"These fevers come on quickly sometimes," remarked the old man wisely, +and added: "This case interests the entire neighbourhood and I will show +you that I can be grateful for anything you may tell me--of course, only +what a faithful servant could tell. It will interest my customers very +much." + +"You know all there is to know," said the valet, evidently disappointed +that he had nothing to tell which could win the peddler's gratitude. +"There are no secrets about it. Everybody knows that they were a very +happy couple, and even if there was a little talk between them on that +day, why it was pure accident and had nothing to do with the mistress' +excitement." + +"Then there was a quarrel between them?" + +"Are people talking about it?" + +"I've heard some things said. They even say that this quarrel was the +reason for--her death." + +"It's stupid nonsense!" exclaimed the servant. The old peddler seemed to +like the young man's honest indignation. + +While they were talking, they had passed through a long corridor and the +young man laid his hand on one of the doors as the peddler asked, "Can I +see Miss Nanette alone?" + +"Alone? Oho, she's engaged to me!" + +"I know that," said the stranger, who seemed to be initiated into all +the doings of this household. "And I am an old man--all I meant was that +I would rather not have any of the other servants about." + +"I'll keep the cook out of the way if you want me to." + +"That would be a good idea. It isn't easy to talk business before +others," remarked the old man as they entered the room. It was a +comfortably furnished and cozily warm apartment. Only two people were +there, an old woman and a pretty young girl, who both looked up in +astonishment as the men came in. + +"Who's this you're bringing in, George?" asked Nanette. + +"He's a peddler and he's got some trifles here you might like to look +at." + +"Why, yes, you wanted a thimble, didn't you, Lena?" asked Nanette, and +the cook beckoned to the peddler. "Let's see what you've got there," she +said in a friendly tone. The old man pulled out his wares from his pack; +thimbles and scissors, coloured ribbons, silks, brushes and combs, and +many other trifles. When the women had made their several selections +they noticed that the old man was shivering with the cold, as he leaned +against the stove. Their sympathies were aroused in a moment. "Why don't +you sit down?" asked Nanette, pushing a chair towards him, and Lena rose +to get him something warm from the kitchen. + +The peddler threw a look at George, who nodded in answer. "He said he'd +like to see the things they gave you after Mrs. Kniepp's death," the +young man remarked, + +"Do you buy things like that?" Nanette turned to the peddler. + +"I'd just like to look at them first, if you'll let me." + +"I'd be glad to get rid of them. But I won't go upstairs, I'm afraid +there." + +"Well, I'll get the things for you if you want me to," offered George +and turned to leave the room. The door had scarcely closed behind him +when a change came over the peddler. His old head rose from its drooping +position, his bowed figure started up with youthful elasticity. + +"Are you really fond of him?" he asked of the astonished Nanette, who +stepped back a pace, stammering in answer: "Yes. Why do you ask? and who +are you?" + +"Never mind that, my dear child, but just answer the questions I have to +ask, and answer truthfully, or it might occur to me to let your George +know that he is not the first man you have loved." + +"What do you know?" she breathed in alarm. + +The peddler laughed. "Oho, then he's jealous! All the better for me--the +Councillor was jealous too, wasn't he?" Nanette looked at him in horror. + +"The truth, therefore, you must tell me the truth, and get the others +away, so I can speak to you alone. You must do this--or else I'll tell +George about the handsome carpenter in Church street, or about Franz +Schmid, or--" + +"For God's sake, stop--stop--I'll do anything you say." + +The girl sank back on her chair pale and trembling, while the peddler +resumed his pose of a tired old man leaning against the stove. When +George returned with a large basket, Nanette had calmed herself +sufficiently to go about the unpacking of the articles in the hamper. + +"George, won't you please keep Lena out in the kitchen. Ask her to make +some tea for us," asked Nanette with well feigned assurance. George +smiled a meaning smile and disappeared. + +"I am particularly interested in the dead lady's gloves," said the +peddler when they were alone again. + +Nanette looked at him in surprise but was still too frightened to offer +any remarks. She opened several boxes and packages and laid a number of +pairs of gloves on the table. The old man looked through them, turning +them over carefully. Then he shook his head: "There must be some more +somewhere," he said. Nanette was no longer astonished at anything he +might say or do, so she obediently went through the basket again and +found a little box in which were several pair of grey suede gloves, +fastened by bluish mother-of-pearl buttons. One of the pairs had been +worn, and a button was missing. + +"These are the ones I was looking for," said the peddler, putting the +gloves in his pocket. Then he continued: "Your mistress was rather fond +of taking long walks by herself, wasn't she?" + +The girl's pale face flushed hotly and she stammered: "You know--about +it?" + +"You know about it also, I see. And did you know everything?" + +"Yes, everything," murmured Nanette. + +"Then it was you and Tristan who accompanied the lady on her walks?" + +"Yes." + +"I supposed she must have taken some one into her confidence. Well, and +what do you think about the murder?" + +"The Professor?" replied Nanette hastily. "Why, what should I know about +it?" + +"The Councillor was greatly excited and very unhappy when he discovered +this affair, I suppose?" + +"He is still." + +"And how did he act after the--let us call it the accident?" + +"He was like a crazy man." + +"They tell me that he went about his duties just the same--that he went +away on business." + +"It wasn't business this time, at least not professional business. But +before that he did have to go away frequently for weeks at a time." + +"And it was then that your mistress was most interested in her lonely +walks, eh?" + +"Yes." Nanette's voice was so low as to be scarcely heard. + +"Well, and this time?" continued the peddler. "Why did he go away this +time?" + +"He went to the capital on private business of his own." + +"Are you sure of that?" + +"Quite sure. He went two different times. I thought it was because he +couldn't stand it here and wanted to see something different. He went to +his club this evening, too." + +"And when did he go away?" + +"The first time was the day after his wife was buried." + +"And the second time?" + +"Two or three days after his return." + +"How long did he stay away the first time?" + +"Only one day." + +"Good! Pull yourself together now. I'll send your George in to you and +tell him you haven't been feeling well. Don't tell any one about our +conversation. Where is the kitchen?" + +"The last door to the right down the hall." + +The peddler left the room and Nanette sank down dazed and trembling on +the nearest chair. George found her still pale, but he seemed to think +it quite natural that she should have been overcome by the recollection +of the terrible death of her mistress. He gave the old man a most +cordial invitation to return during the next few days. The cook brought +the peddler a cup of steaming tea, and purchased several trifles from +him, before he left the house. + +When the old man had reached a lonely spot on the road, about half way +between the hunting castle and the city, he halted, set down his pack, +divested himself of his beard and his wig and washed the wrinkles from +his face with a handful of snow from the wayside. A quarter of an +hour later, Detective Muller entered the railway station of the city, +burdened with a large grip. He took a seat in the night express which +rolled out from the station a few moments later. + +As he was alone in his compartment, Muller gave way to his excitement, +sometimes even murmuring half-aloud the thoughts that rushed through his +brain. "Yes, I am convinced of it, but can I find the proofs?" the words +came again and again, and in spite of the comfortable warmth in the +compartment, in spite of his tired and half-frozen condition, he could +not sleep. + +He reached the capital at midnight and took a room in a small hotel in +a quiet street. When he went out next morning, the servants looked after +him with suspicion, as in their opinion a man who spent most of the +night pacing up and down his room must surely have a guilty conscience. + +Muller went to police headquarters and looked through the arrivals at +the hotels on the 21st of November. The burial of Mrs. Kniepp had +taken place on the 20th. Muller soon found the name he was looking +for, "Forest Councillor Leo Kniepp," in the list of guests at the Hotel +Imperial. The detective went at once to the Hotel Imperial, where he was +already well known. It cost him little time and trouble to discover what +he wished to know, the reason for the Councillor's visit to the capital. + +Kniepp had asked for the address of a goldsmith, and had been directed +to one of the shops which had the best reputation in the city. He had +been in the capital altogether for about twenty-four hours. He had the +manner and appearance of a man suffering under some terrible blow. + +Muller himself was deep in thought as he entered the train to return +to his home, after a visit to the goldsmith in question. He had a short +interview with Chief of Police Bauer, who finally gave him the golden +bullet and the keys to the apartment of the murdered man. Then the two +went out together. + +An hour later, the chief of police and Muller stood in the garden of +the house in which the murder had occurred. Bauer had entered from the +Promenade after Muller had shown him how to work the lock of the little +gate. Together they went up into the apartment, which was icy cold and +uncanny in its loneliness. But the two men did not appear to notice +this, so greatly were they interested in the task that had brought them +there. First of all, they made a most minute examination of the two +doors which had been locked. The keys were still in both locks on +the inside. They were big heavy keys, suitable for the tall massive +heavily-panelled and iron-ornamented doors. The entire villa was built +in this heavy old German style, the favourite fashion of the last few +years. + +When they had looked the locks over carefully, Muller lit the lamp that +hung over the desk in the study and closed the window shutters tight. +Bauer had smiled at first as he watched his protege's actions, but +his smile changed to a look of keen interest as he suddenly understood. +Muller took his place in the chair before the desk and looked over at +the door of the vestibule, which was directly opposite him. "Yes, that's +all right," he said with a deep breath. + +Bauer had sat down on the sofa to watch the proceedings, now he sprang +up with an exclamation: "Through the keyhole?" + +"Through the keyhole," answered Muller. + +"It is scarcely possible." + +"Shall we try it?" + +"Yes, yes, you do it." Even the usually indifferent old chief of police +was breathing more hastily now. Muller took a roll of paper and a small +pistol out of his pocket. He unrolled the paper, which represented +the figure of a French soldier with a marked target on the breast. The +detective pinned the paper on the back of the chair in which Professor +Fellner had been seated when he met his death. + +"But the key was in the hole," objected Bauer suddenly. + +"Yes, but it was turned so that the lower part of the hole was free. +Johann saw the light streaming through and could look into the room. +If the murderer put the barrel of his pistol to this open part of the +keyhole, the bullet would have to strike exactly where the dead man sat. +There would be no need to take any particular aim." Muller gazed into +space like a seer before whose mental eye a vision has arisen, and +continued in level tones: "Fellner had refused the duel and the murderer +was crazed by his desire for revenge. He came here to the house, he must +have known just how to enter the place, how to reach the rooms, and he +must have known also, that the Professor, coward as he was--" + +"Coward? Is a man a coward when he refuses to stand up to a maniac?" +interrupted Bauer. + +Muller came back to the present with a start and said calmly, "Fellner +was a coward." + +"Then you know more than you are telling me now?" + +Muller nodded. "Yes, I do," he answered with a smile. "But I will tell +you more only when I have all the proofs in my own hand." + +"And the criminal will escape us in the meantime." + +"He has no idea that he is suspected." + +"But--you'll promise to be sensible this time, Muller?" + +"Yes. But you will pardon me my present reticence, even towards you? +I--I don't want to be thought a dreamer again." + +"As in the Kniepp case?" + +"As in the Kniepp case," repeated the little man with a strange smile. +"So please allow me to go about it in my own way. I will tell you all +you want to know to-morrow." + +"To-morrow, then." + +"May I now continue to unfold my theories?" Bauer nodded and Muller +continued: "The criminal wanted Fellner's blood, no matter how." + +"Even if it meant murder," said Bauer. + +Muller nodded calmly. "It would have been nobler, perhaps, to have +warned his victim of his approach, but it might have all come to nothing +then. The other could have called for help, could have barricaded +himself in his room, one crime might have been prevented, and another, +more shameful one, would have gone unavenged." + +"Another crime? Fellner a criminal?" + +"To-morrow you shall know everything, my kind friend. And now, let us +make the trial. Please lock the door behind me as it was locked then." + +Muller left the room, taking the pistol with him. Bauer locked the door. +"Is this right?" he asked. + +"Yes, I can see a wide curve of the room, taking in the entire desk. +Please stand to one side now." + +There was deep silence for a moment, then a slight sound as of metal +on metal, then a report, and Muller re-entered the study through the +bedroom. He found Bauer stooping over the picture of the French soldier. +There was a hole in the left breast, where the bullet, passing through, +had buried itself in the back of the chair. + +"Yes, it was all just as you said," began the chief of police, holding +out his hand to Muller. "But--why the golden bullet?" + +"To-morrow, to-morrow," replied the detective, looking up at his +superior with a glance of pleading. + +They left the house together and in less than an hour's time Muller was +again in the train rolling towards the capital. + +He went to the goldsmith's shop as soon as he arrived. The proprietor +received him with eager interest and Muller handed him the golden +bullet. "Here is the golden object of which I spoke," said the +detective, paying no heed to the other's astonishment. The goldsmith +opened a small locked drawer, took a ring from it and set about an +examination of the two little objects. When he turned to his visitor +again, he was evidently satisfied with what he had discovered. "These +two objects are made of exactly the same sort of gold, of a peculiar +old French composition, which can no longer be produced in the same +richness. The weight of the gold in the bullet is exactly the same as in +the ring." + +"Would you be willing to take an oath on that if you were called in as +an expert?" + +"I am willing to stand up for my judgment." + +"Good. And now will you read this over please, it contains the substance +of what you told me yesterday. Should I have made any mistakes, please +correct them, for I will ask you to set your signature to it." + +Muller handed several sheets of close writing to the goldsmith and the +latter read aloud as follows: "On the 22nd of November, a gentleman came +into my shop and handed me a wedding ring with the request that I should +make another one exactly like it. He was particularly anxious that the +work should be done in two days at the very latest, and also that the +new ring, in form, colour, and in the engraving on the inside, should +be a perfect counterpart of the first. He explained his order by saying +that his wife was ill, and that she was grieving over the loss of her +wedding ring which had somehow disappeared. The new ring could be found +somewhere as if by chance and the sick woman's anxiety would be over. +Two days later, as arranged, the same gentleman appeared again and I +handed him the two rings. + +"He left the shop, greatly satisfied with my work and apparently much +relieved in his mind. But he left me uneasy in spirit because I had +deceived him. It had not been possible for me to reproduce exactly the +composition of the original ring, and as I believed that the work was to +be done in order to comfort an invalid, and I was getting no profit, +but on the contrary a little extra work out of it, I made two new rings, +lettered them according to the original and gave them to my customer. +The original ring I am now, on this seventh day of December, giving to +Mr. Joseph Mullet, who has shown me his legitimation as a member of +the Secret Police. I am willing to put myself at the service of the +authorities if I am called for." + +"You are willing to do this, aren't you?" asked Muller when the +goldsmith had arrived at the end of the notice. + +"Of course." + +"Have you anything to add to this?" + +"No, it is quite complete. I will sign it at once." + +Several hours later, Muller re-entered the police station in his home +town and saw the windows of the chief's apartment brilliantly lighted. +"What's going on," he asked of Bauer's servant who was just hurrying up +the stairs. + +"The mistress' birthday, we've got company." + +Muller grumbled something and went on up to his own room. He knew it +would not be pleasant for his patron to be disturbed in the midst of +entertaining his guests, but the matter was important and could not +wait. + +The detective laid off his outer garments, made a few changes in his +toilet and putting the goldsmith's declaration, with the ring and +the bullet in his pocketbook, he went down to the first floor of the +building, in one wing of which was the apartment occupied by the Chief. +He sent in his name and was told to wait in the little study. He sat +down quietly in a corner of the comfortable little room beyond which, +in a handsomely furnished smoking room, a number of guests sat playing +cards. From the drawing rooms beyond, there was the sound of music and +many voices. + +It was all very attractive and comfortable, and the solitary man sat +there enjoying once more the pleasant sensation of triumph, of joy at +the victory that was his alone and that would win him back all his old +friends and prestige. He was looking forward in agreeable anticipation +to the explanations he had to give, when he suddenly started and grew +pale. His eyes dimmed a moment, then he pulled himself together and +murmured: "No, no, not this time. I will not be weak this time." + +Just then the Chief entered the room, accompanied by Councillor Kniepp. + +"Won't you sit down here a little?" asked the friendly host. "You will +find it much quieter in this room." He pulled up a little table laden +with cigars and wine, close to a comfortable armchair. Then, noticing +Muller, he continued with a friendly nod: "I'm glad they told you to +wait in here. You must be frozen after your long ride. If you will wait +just a moment more, I will return at once and we can go into my office. +And if you will make yourself comfortable here, my dear Kniepp, I will +send our friend Horn in to talk with you. He is bright and jovial and +will keep you amused." + +The chief chattered on, making a strenuous endeavour to appear quite +harmless. But Kniepp, more apt than ever just now to notice the +actions of others, saw plainly that his genial host was concealing some +excitement. When the latter had gone out the Councillor looked +after him, shaking his head. Then his glance fell by chance on the +quiet-looking man who had risen at his entrance and had not sat down +again. + +"Please sit down," he said in a friendly tone, but the other did not +move. His grey eyes gazed intently at the man whose fate he was to +change so horribly. + +Kniepp grew uneasy under the stare. "What is there that interests you so +about me?" he asked in a tone that was an attempt at a joke. + +"The ring, the ring on your watch chain," murmured Muller. + +"It belonged to my dead wife. I have worn it since she left me," +answered the unhappy man with the same iron calm with which he had, all +these past days, been emphasizing his love for the woman he had lost. +Yet the question touched him unpleasantly and he looked more sharply at +the strange man over in the corner. He saw the latter's face turn pale +and a shiver run through his form. A feeling of sympathy came over +Kniepp and he asked warmly: "Won't you take a glass of this wine? If you +have been out in the cold it will be good for you." His tone was gentle, +almost cordial, but the man to whom he offered the refreshment turned +from him with a gesture that was almost one of terror. + +The Councillor rose suddenly from his chair. "Who are you? What news is +it you bring?" he asked with a voice that began to tremble. + +Muller raised his head sharply as if his decision had been made, and his +kind intelligent eyes grew soft as they rested on the pale face of +the stately man before him. "I belong to the Secret Police and I +am compelled to find out the secrets of others--not because of my +profession--no, because my own nature compels me--I must do it. I have +just come from Vienna and I bring the last of the proofs necessary to +turn you over to the courts. And yet you are a thousand times better +than the coward who stole the honour of your wife and who hid behind +the shelter of the law--and therefore, therefore, therefore--" Muller's +voice grew hoarse, then died away altogether. + +Kniepp listened with pallid cheeks but without a quiver. Now he spoke, +completing the other's words: "And therefore you wish to save me from +the prison or from the gallows? I thank you. What is your name?" The +unhappy man spoke as calmly as if the matter scarcely concerned him at +all. + +The detective told him his name. + +"Muller, Muller," repeated the Councillor, as if he were particularly +anxious to remember the name. He held out his hand to the detective. +"I thank you, indeed, thank you," he said with the first sign +of emotion he had shown, and then added low: "Do not fear that you will +have trouble on my account. They can find me in my home." With these +words he turned away and sat down in his chair again. When Bauer entered +the room a few moments later, Kniepp was smoking calmly. + +"Now, Muller, I'm ready. Horn will be in in a moment, friend Kniepp; I +know you will enjoy his chatter." The chief led the way out of the room +through another door. He could not see the ghastly pale face of the +guest he left behind him, for it was almost hidden in a cloud of thick +smoke, but Muller turned back once more at the threshold and caught +a last grateful glance from eyes shadowed by deep sadness, as the +Councillor raised his hand in a friendly gesture. + +"Dear Muller, you take so long to get at the point of the story! Don't +you see you are torturing me?" This outburst came from the Chief +about an hour later. But the detective would not permit himself to be +interrupted in spinning out his story in his own way, and it was nearly +another hour before Bauer knew that the man for whose name he had been +waiting so long was Leo Kniepp. + +The knowledge came as a terrible surprise to him. He was dazed almost. +"And I,--I've got to arrest him in my own house?" he exclaimed as if +horrified. And Muller answered calmly: "I doubt if you will have the +opportunity, sir." + +"Muller! Did you, again--" + +"Yes, I did! I have again warned an unfortunate. It's my nature, I +can't seem to help it. But you will find the Councillor in his house. He +promised me that." + +"And you believe it?" + +"That man will keep his promise," said Muller quietly. + +Councillor Kniepp did keep his promise. When the police arrived at the +hunting castle shortly after midnight, they found the terrified servants +standing by the body of their master. + +"Well, Muller, you had better luck than you deserved this time," Bauer +said a few days later. "This last trick has made you quite impossible +for the service. But you needn't worry about that, because the legacy +Kniepp left you will put you out of reach of want." + +The detective was as much surprised as anybody. He was as if dazed by +his unexpected good fortune. The day before he was a poor man bowed +under the weight of sordid cares, and now he was the possessor of twenty +thousand gulden. And it was not his clever brain but his warm heart that +had won this fortune for him. His breast swelled with gratitude as he +thought of the unhappy man whose life had been ruined by the careless +cruelty of others and his own passions. Again and again he read the +letter which had been found on Kniepp's desk, addressed to him and which +had been handed out to him after the inquest. + + My friend:-- + + You have saved me from the shame of an open trial. I thank you + for this from the very depth of my heart. I have left you a + part of my own private fortune, that you may be a free man, free + as a poor man never can be. You can accept this present for it + comes from the hand of an honest man in spite of all. Yes, I + compelled my wife to go to her death after I had compelled her + to confess her shame to me, and I entered her lover's house with + the knowledge I had forced from her. When I looked through the + keyhole and saw his false face before me, I murdered him in cold + blood. Then, that the truth might not be suspected, I continued + to play the sorrowing husband. I wore on my watch chain the ring + I had had made in imitation of the one my wife had worn. This + original ring of hers, her wedding ring which she had defiled, + I sent in the form of a bullet straight to her lover's heart. + Yes, I have committed a crime, but I feel that I am less criminal + than those two whom I judged and condemned, and whose sentence I + carried out as I now shall carry out my own sentence with a hand + which will not tremble. That I can do this myself, I have you to + thank for, you who can look into the souls of men and recognise + the most hidden motives, you who have not only a wonderful brain + but a heart that can feel. You, I hope, will sometimes think + kindly of your grateful + + LEO KNIEPP. + +Muller kept this letter as one of his most sacred treasures. + +The "Kniepp Case" was really, as Bauer had predicted, the last in +Muller's public career. Even the friendliness of the kind old chief +could not keep him in his position after this new display of the +unreliability of his heart. But his quiet tastes allowed him to live in +humble comfort from the income of his little fortune. + +Every now and then letters or telegrams will come for him and he will +disappear for several days. His few friends believe that the police +authorities, who refused to employ him publicly owing to his strange +weakness, cannot resist a private appeal to his talent whenever a +particularly difficult case arises. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Case of the Golden Bullet, by +Grace Isabel Colbron, and Augusta Groner + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE CASE OF THE GOLDEN BULLET *** + +***** This file should be named 1836.txt or 1836.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/1/8/3/1836/ + +Produced by An Anonymous Project Gutenberg Volunteer + +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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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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + +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. + + + + +THE CASE OF HE GOLDEN BULLET + +by Grace Isabel Colbron and Augusta Groner + + + +"Please, sir, there is a man outside who asks to see you." + +"What does he want?" asked Commissioner Horn, looking up. + +"He says he has something to report, sir." + +"Send him in, then." + +The attendant disappeared, and the commissioner looked up at the +clock. It was just striking eleven, but the fellow official who +was to relieve him at that hour had not yet appeared. And if this +should chance to be a new case, he would probably be obliged to +take it himself. The commissioner was not in a very good humour +as he sat back to receive the young man who entered the room in +the wake of the attendant. The stranger was a sturdy youth, with +an unintelligent, good-natured face. He twisted his soft hat in +his hands in evident embarrassment, and his eyes wandered helplessly +about the great bare room. + +"Who are you?" demanded the commissioner. + +"My name is Dummel, sir, Johann Dummel." + +"And your occupation?" + +"My occupation? Oh, yes, I - I am a valet, valet to Professor +Fellner." + +The commissioner sat up and looked interested. He knew Fellner +personally and liked him. "What have you to report to me?" he +asked eagerly. + +"I - I don't know whether I ought to have come here, but at home - " + +"Well, is anything the matter?" insisted Horn. + +"Why, sir, I don't know; but the Professor - he is so still - he +doesn't answer." + +Horn sprang from his chair. "Is he ill?" he asked. + +"I don't know, sir. His room is locked - he never locked it before." + +"And you are certain he is at home?" + +"Yes, sir. I saw him during the night - and the key is in the lock +on the inside." + +The commissioner had his hat in his hand when the colleague who was +to relieve him appeared. "Good and cold out to-day!" was the +latter's greeting. Horn answered with an ironical: "Then I suppose +you'll be glad if I relieve you of this case. But I assure you I +wouldn't do it if it wasn't Fellner. Good-bye. Oh, and one thing +more. Please send a physician at once to Fellner's house, No. 7 +Field Street." + +Horn opened the door and passed on into the adjoining room, +accompanied by Johann. The commissioner halted a moment as his +eyes fell upon a little man who sat in the corner reading a +newspaper. "Hello, Muller; you there? Suppose I take you with me? +You aren't doing anything now, are you?" + +"No, sir. + +"Well, come with me, then. If this should turn out to be anything +serious, we may need you." + +The three men entered one of the cabs waiting outside the police +station. As they rattled through the streets, Commissioner Horn +continued his examination of the, valet. "When did you see your +master last?" + +"About eleven o'clock last evening." + +"Did you speak with him then? + +"No, I looked through the keyhole." + +"Oh, indeed; is that a habit of yours?" + +Dummel blushed deeply, but his eyes flashed, and he looked angry. + +"No, it is not, sir," he growled. "I only did it this time because +I was anxious about the master. He's been so worked up and nervous +the last few days. Last night I went to the theatre, as I always +do Saturday evenings. When I returned, about half-past ten it was, +I knocked at the door of his bedroom. He didn't answer, and I +walked away softly, so as not to disturb him in case he'd gone to +sleep already. The hall was dark, and as I went through it I saw +a ray of light coming from the keyhole of the Professor's study. +That surprised me, because he never worked as late as that before. +I thought it over a moment, then I crept up and looked through +the keyhole." + +"And what did you see?" + +"He sat at his desk, quite quiet. So I felt easy again, and went +off to bed." + +"Why didn't you go into the room?" + +"I didn't dare, sir. The Professor never wanted to be disturbed +when he was writing." + +"Well, and this morning?" + +"I got up at the usual time this morning, set the breakfast table, +and then knocked at the Professor's bedroom door to waken him. He +didn't answer, and I thought he might want to sleep, seeing as it +was Sunday, and he was up late last night. So I waited until ten +o'clock. Then I knocked again and tried the door, but it was locked. +That made me uneasy, because he never locked his bedroom door before. +I banged at the door and called out, but there wasn't a sound. Then +I ran to the police station." + +Horn was evidently as alarmed as was the young valet. But Muller's +cheeks were flushed and a flash of secret joy, of pleasurable +expectation, brightened his deep-set, grey eyes. He sat quite +motionless, but every nerve in his body was alive and tingling. The +humble-looking little man had become quite another and a decidedly +interesting person. He laid his thin, nervous hand on the carriage +door. + +"We are not there yet," said the commissioner. + +"No, but it's the third house from here," replied Muller. + +"You know where everybody lives, don't you?" smiled Horn. + +"Nearly everybody," answered Muller gently, as the cab stopped +before an attractive little villa surrounded by its own garden, +as were most of the houses in this quiet, aristocratic part of +the town. + +The house was two stories high, but the upper windows were closed +and tightly curtained. This upper story was the apartment occupied +by the owner of the house, who was now in Italy with his invalid +wife. Otherwise the dainty little villa, built in the fashionable +Nuremberg style, with heavy wooden doors and lozenged-paned windows, +had no occupants except Professor Fellner and his servant. With +its graceful outlines and well-planned garden, the dwelling had a +most attractive appearance. Opposite it was the broad avenue known +as the Promenade, and beyond this were open fields. To the right +and to the left were similar villas in their gardens. + +Dummel opened the door and the three men entered the house. The +commissioner and the valet went in first, Muller following them more +slowly. His sharp eyes glanced quickly over the coloured tiles of +the flooring, over the white steps and the carpeted hallway beyond. +Once he bent quickly and picked up something, then he walked on with +his usual quiet manner, out of which every trace of excitement had +now vanished. + +The dull winter sun seemed only to make the gloom of the dark +vestibule more visible. Johann turned up the light, and Horn, who +had visited the Professor several times and knew the situation of +the rooms, went at once to the heavy, carved and iron trimmed door +of the study. He attempted to open the door, but it resisted all +pressure. The heavy key was in the inner side of the big lock with +its medieval iron ornamentation. But the key was turned so that +the lower part of the lock was free, a round opening of unusual size. +Horn made sure of this by holding a lighted match to the door. + +"You are right," he said to the valet, "the door is locked from the +inside. We'll have to go through the bedroom. Johann, bring me a +chisel or a hatchet. Muller, you stay here and open the door when +the doctor comes." + +Muller nodded. Johann disappeared, returning in a few moments with +a small hatchet, and followed the commissioner through the +dining-room. It was an attractive apartment with its high wooden +paneling and its dainty breakfast table. But a slight shiver ran +through the commissioner's frame as he realised that some misfortune, +some crime even might be waiting for them on the other side of the +closed door. The bedroom door also was locked on the inside, and +after some moments of knocking and calling, Horn set the hatchet to +the framework just as the bell of the house-door pealed out. + +With a cracking and tearing of wood the bedroom door fell open, and +in the same moment Muller and the physician passed through the +dining-room. Johann hurried into the bedroom to open the +window-shutters, and the others gathered in the doorway. A single +look showed each of the men that the bed was untouched, and they +passed on through the room. The door from the bedroom to the study +stood open. In the latter room the shutters were tightly closed, +and the lamp had long since gone out. But sufficient light fell +through the open bedroom door for the men to see the figure of the +Professor seated at his desk, and when Johann had opened the +shutters, it was plain to all that the silent figure before them +was that of a corpse. + +"Heart disease, probably," murmured the physician, as he touched +the icy forehead. Then he felt the pulse of the stiffened hand +from which the pen had fallen in the moment of death, raised the +drooping head and lifted up the half-closed eyelids. The eyes +were glazed. + +The others looked on in silence. Horn was very pale, and his +usually calm face showed great emotion. Johann seemed quite beside +himself, the tears rolled down his cheeks unhindered. Muller stood +without a sign of life, his sallow face seemed made of bronze; he +was watching and listening. He seemed to hear and see what no one +else could see or hear. He smiled slightly when the doctor spoke +of "heart disease," and his eyes fell on the revolver that lay near +the dead man's hand on the desk. Then he shook his head, and then +he started suddenly. Horn noticed the movement; it was in the moment +when the physician raised up the sunken figure that had fallen half +over the desk. + +"He was killed by a bullet," said Muller. + +"Yes, that was it," replied the doctor. With the raising of the +body the dead man's waistcoat fell back into its usual position, +and they could see a little round hole in his shirt. The doctor +opened the shirt bosom and pointed to a little wound in the +Professor's left breast. There were scarcely three or four drops +of blood visible. The hemorrhage had been internal. + +"He must have died at once, without suffering," said the physician. + +"He killed himself - he killed himself," murmured Johann, as if +bewildered. + +"It's strange that he should have found time to lay down the +revolver before he died," remarked Horn. Johann put out his hand +and raised the weapon before Horn could prevent him. "Leave that +pistol where it was," commanded the commissioner. "We have to look +into this matter more closely." + +The doctor turned quickly. "You think it was a murder?" he +exclaimed. "The doors were both locked on the inside - where could +the murderer be?" + +"I don't pretend to see him myself yet. But our rule is to leave +things as they are discovered, until the official examination. +Muller, did you shut the outer door?" + +"Yes, sir; here is the key." + +"Johann, are there any more keys for the outer door?" + +"Yes, sir. One more, that is, for the third was lost some months +ago. The Professor's own key ought to be in the drawer of the +little table beside the bed." + +"Will you please look for it, Muller?" + +Muller went into the bedroom and soon returned with the key, which +he handed to the commissioner. The detective had found something +else in the little table drawer - a tortoise-shell hairpin, which +he had carefully hidden in his own pocket before rejoining the +others. + +Horn turned to the servant again. "How many times have you been +out of the apartment since last night?" + +"Once only, sir, to go to the police station to fetch you." + +"And you locked the door behind you?" + +"Why, yes, sir. You saw that I had to turn the key twice to let +you in." + +Horn and Muller both looked the young man over very carefully. He +seemed perfectly innocent, and their suspicion that he might have +turned the key in pretense only, soon vanished. It would have been +a foolish suspicion anyway. If he were in league with the murderer, +he could have let the latter escape with much more safety during the +night. Horn let his eyes wander about the rooms again, and said +slowly: "Then the murderer is still here - or else - " + +"Or else?" asked the doctor. + +"Or else we have a strange riddle to solve." + +Johann had laid the pistol down again. Muller stretched forth his +hand and took it up. He looked at it a moment, then handed it to +the commissioner. "We have to do with a murder here. There was +not a shot fired from this revolver, for every chamber is still +loaded. And there is no other weapon in sight," said the detective +quietly. + +"Yes, he was murdered. This revolver is fully loaded. Let us +begin the search at once." Horn was more excited than he cared to +show. + +Johann looked about in alarm, but when he saw the others beginning +to peer into every corner and every cupboard, he himself joined in +the man-hunt. A quarter of an hour later, the four men relinquished +their fruitless efforts and gathered beside the corpse again. + +"Doctor, will you have the kindness to report to the head +Commissioner of Police, and to order the taking away of the body? +We will look about for some motive for this murder in the meantime," +said Horn, as he held out his hand to the physician. + +Muller walked out to the door of the house with the doctor. + +"Do you think this valet did it?" asked the physician softly. + +"He? Oh, dear, no," replied the detective scornfully. + +"You think he's too stupid? But this stupidity might be feigned." + +"It's real enough, doctor." + +"But what do you think about it - you, who have the gift of seeing +more than other people see, even if it does bring you into disfavour +with the Powers that Be?" + +"Then you don't believe me yet?" + +"You mean about the beautiful Mrs. Kniepp? + +"And yet I tell you I am right. It was an intentional suicide." + +"Muller, Muller, you must keep better watch over your imagination +and your tongue! It is a dangerous thing to spread rumours about +persons high in favor with the Arch-duke. But you had better tell +me what you think about this affair," continued the doctor, +pointing back towards the room they had just left. + +"There's a woman in the case." + +"Aha! you are romancing again. Well, they won't be so sensitive +about this matter, but take care that you don't make a mistake again, +my dear Muller. It would be likely to cost you your position, don't +forget that." + +The doctor left the house. Muller smiled bitterly as he closed the +door behind him, and murmured to himself: "Indeed, I do not forget +it, and that is why I shall take this matter into my own hands. But +the Kniepp case is not closed yet, by any means." + +When he returned to the study he saw Johann sitting quietly in a +corner, shaking his head, as if trying to understand it all. Horn +was bending over a sheet of writing paper which lay before the dead +man. Fellner must have been busy at his desk when the bullet +penetrated his heart. His hand in dying had let fall the pen, +which had drawn a long black mark across the bottom of the sheet. +One page of the paper was covered with a small, delicate handwriting. + +Horn called up the detective, and together they read the following words: + +"Dear Friend: - + +"He challenged me - pistols - it means life or death. My enemy is +very bitter. But I am not ready to die yet. And as I know that I +would be the one to fall, I have refused the duel. That will help +me little, for his revenge will know how to find me. I dare not be +a moment without a weapon now - his threats on my refusal let me +fear the worst. I have an uncanny presentiment of evil. I shall +leave here to-morrow. With the excuse of having some pressing +family affair to attend to, I have secured several days' leave. +Of course I do not intend to return. I am hoping that you will +come here and break up my establishment in my stead. I will tell +you everything else when I see you. I am in a hurry now, for there +is a good deal of packing to do. If anything should happen to me, +you will know who it is who is responsible for my death. His +name is - " + +Here the letter came to an abrupt close. + +Muller and Horn looked at each other in silence, then they turned +their eyes again toward the dead man. + +"He was a coward," said the detective coldly, and turned away. +Horn repeated mechanically, "A coward!" and his eyes also looked +down with a changed expression upon the handsome, soft-featured +face, framed in curly blond hair, that lay so silent against the +chair-back. Many women had loved this dead man, and many men had +been fond of him, for they had believed him capable and manly. + +The commissioner and Muller continued their researches in silence +and with less interest than before. They found a heap of loose +ashes in the bedroom stove. Letters and other trifles had been +burned there. Muller raked out the heap very carefully, but the +writing on the few pieces of paper still left whole was quite +illegible. There were several envelopes in the waste-basket, but +all of them were dated several months back. There was nothing that +could give the slightest clue. + +The letter written by the murdered man was sufficient proof that +his death had been an act of vengeance. But who was it who had +carried out this secret, terrible deed? The victim had not been +allowed the time to write down the name of his murderer. + +Horn took the letter into his keeping. Then he left the room, +followed by Muller and the valet, to look about the rest of the +house as far as possible. This was not very far, for the second +story was closed off by a tall iron grating. + +"Is the house door locked during the daytime?" asked Horn of the +servant. + +"The front door is, but the side door into the garden is usually +open." + +"Has it ever happened that any one got into the house from this +side door without your knowing it?" + +"No, sir. The garden has a high wall around it. And there is extra +protection on the side toward the Promenade." + +"But there's a little gate there?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Is that usually closed?" + +"We never use the key for that, sir. It has a trick lock that you +can't open unless you know how." + +"You said you went to the theatre yesterday evening. Did your +master give you permission to go?" + +"Yes, sir. It's about a year now that he gave me money for a +theatre ticket every Saturday evening. He was very kind." + +"Did you come into the house last night by the front door, or +through the garden?" + +"Through the garden, sir. I walked down the Promenade from the +theatre." + +"And you didn't notice anything - you saw no traces of footsteps?" + +"No, sir. I didn't notice anything unusual. We shut the side +door, the garden door, every evening, also. It was closed +yesterday and I found the key - we've only got one key to the +garden door - in the same place where I was told to hide it when +I went out in the evening." + +"What place was that?" + +"In one of the pails by the well." + +"You say you were told to hide it there?" + +"Yes, sir; the Professor told me. He'd go out in the evening +sometimes, too, I suppose, and he wanted to be able to come in that +way if necessary." + +"And no one else knew where the key was hidden?" + +"No one else, sir. It's nearly a year now that we've been alone in +the house. Who else should know of it?" + +"When you looked through the keyhole last night, are you sure that +the Professor was still alive?" + +"Why, yes, sir; of course I couldn't say so surely. I thought he +was reading or writing, but oh, dear Lord! there he was this morning, +nearly twelve hours later, in just the same position." Johann +shivered at the thought that he might have seen his master sitting +at his desk, already a corpse. + +"He must have been dead when you came home. Don't you think the +sound of that shot would have wakened you?" + +"Yes, sir, I think likely, sir," murmured Johann. "But if the +murderer could get into the house, how could he get into the +apartment?" + +"There must have been a third key of which you knew nothing," +answered Horn, turning to Muller again. "It's stranger still how +Fellner could have been shot, for the window-shutters were fastened +and quite uninjured, and both doors were locked on the inside." + +As he said these words, Horn looked sharply at his subordinate; but +Muller's calm face did not give the slightest clue to his thoughts. +The experienced police commissioner was pleased and yet slightly +angered at this behaviour on the part of the detective. He knew +that it was quite possible that Muller had already formed a clear +opinion about the case, and that he was merely keeping it to himself. +And yet he was glad to see that the little detective had apparently +learned a lesson from his recent mistake concerning the death of +Mrs. Kniepp - that he had somewhat lost confidence in his hitherto +unerring instinct, and did not care to express any opinion until he +had studied the matter a little closer. The commissioner was just +a little bit vain, and just a little bit jealous of this humble +detective's fame. + +Muller shrugged his shoulders at the remark of his superior, and +the two men stood silent, thinking over the case, as the Chief of +Police appeared, accompanied by the doctor, a clerk, and two hospital +attendants. The chief commissioner received the report of what had +been discovered, while the corpse was laid on a bier to be taken to +the hospital. + +Muller handed the commissioner his hat and cane and helped him into +his overcoat. Horn noticed that the detective himself was making +no preparations to go out. "Aren't you coming with us?" he asked, +astonished. + +"I hope the gentlemen will allow me to remain here for a little +while," answered Muller modestly. + +"But you know that we will have to close the apartment officially," +said Horn, his voice sharpening in his surprise and displeasure. + +"I do not need to be in these rooms any longer." + +"Don't let them disturb you, my dear Muller; we will allow your +keenness all possible leeway here." The Head of Police spoke with +calm politeness, but Muller started and shivered. The emphasis on +the "here" showed him that even the head of the department had been +incensed at his suggestion that the beautiful Mrs. Kniepp had died +of her own free will. It had been his assertion of this which, +coming to the ears of the bereaved husband, had enraged and +embittered him, and had turned the power of his influence with the +high authorities against the detective. Muller knew how greatly he +had fallen from favour in the Police Department, and the words of +his respected superior showed him that he was still in disgrace. + +But the strange, quiet smile was still on his lips as, with his +usual humble deference, he accompanied the others to the sidewalk. +Before the commissioners left the house, the Chief commanded Johann +to answer carefully any questions Muller might put to him. + +"He'll find something, you may be sure," said Horn, as they drove +off in the cab. + +"Let him that's his business. He is officially bound to see more +than the rest of us," smiled the older official good-naturedly. +"But in spite of it, he'll never get any further than the vestibule; +he'll be making bows to us to the end of his days." + +"You think so? I've wondered at the man. I know his fame in the +capital, indeed, in police circles all over Austria and Germany. +It seems hard on him to be transferred to this small town, now that +he is growing old. I've wondered why he hasn't done more for +himself, with his gifts." + +"He never will," replied the Chief. "He may win more fame - he may +still go on winning triumphs, but he will go on in a circle; he'll +never forge ahead as his capabilities deserve. Muller's peculiarity +is that his genius - for the man has undeniable genius - will always +make concessions to his heart just at the moment when he is about +to do something great - and his triumph is lost." + +Horn looked up at his superior, whom, in spite of his good nature, +he knew to be a sharp, keen, capable police official. "I forgot +you have known Muller longer than the rest of us," he said. "What +was that you said about his heart?" + +"I said that it is one of those inconvenient hearts that will always +make itself noticeable at the wrong time. Muller's heart has played +several tricks on the police department, which has, at other times, +profited so well by his genius. He is a strange mixture. While he +is on the trail of the criminal he is like the bloodhound. He does +not seem to know fatigue nor hunger; his whole being is absorbed by +the excitement of the chase. He has done many a brilliant service +to the cause of justice, he has discovered the guilt, or the +innocence, of many in cases where the official department was as +blind as Justice is proverbially supposed to be. Joseph Muller has +become the idol of all who are engaged in this weary business of +hunting down wrong and punishing crime. He is without a peer in his +profession. But he has also become the idol of some of the criminals. +For if he discovers (as sometimes happens) that the criminal is a +good sort after all, he is just as likely to warn his prey, once he +has all proofs of the guilt and a conviction is certain. Possibly +this is his way of taking the sting from his irresistible impulse to +ferret out hidden mysteries. But it is rather inconvenient, and he +has hurt himself by it - hurt himself badly. They were tired of his +peculiarities at the capital, and wanted to make his years an excuse +to discharge him. I happened to get wind of it, and it was my +weakness for him that saved him." + +"Yes, you brought him here when they transferred you to this town, +I remember now." + +"I'm afraid it wasn't such a good thing for him, after all. Nothing +ever happens here, and a gift like Muller's needs occupation to keep +it fresh. I'm afraid his talents will dull and wither here. The +man has grown perceptibly older in this inaction. His mind is like +a high-bred horse that needs exercise to keep it in good condition." + +"He hasn't grown rich at his work, either," said Horn. + +"No, there's not much chance for a police detective to get rich. +I've often wondered why Muller never had the energy to set up in +business for himself. He might have won fame and fortune as a +private detective. But he's gone on plodding along as a police +subordinate, and letting the department get all the credit for his +most brilliant achievements. It's a sort of incorrigible humbleness +of nature - and then, you know, he had the misfortune to be unjustly +sentenced to a term in prison in his early youth." + +"No, I did not know that." + +"The stigma stuck to his name, and finally drove him to take up +this work. I don't think Muller realised, when he began, just +how greatly he is gifted. I don't know that he really knows now. +He seems to do it because he likes it - he's a queer sort of man." + +While the commissioners drove through the streets to the police +station the man of whom they were speaking sat in Johann's little +room in close consultation with the valet. + +"How long is it since the Professor began to give you money to go +to the theatre on Saturday evenings?" + +The first time it happened was on my name day. "What's the rest +of your name? There are so many Johanns on the calendar." + +"I am Johann Nepomuk." + +Muller took a little calendar from his pocket and turned its pages. +"It was May sixteenth," volunteered the valet. + +"Quite right. May sixteenth was a Saturday. And since then you +have gone to the theatre every Saturday evening?" + +"Yes, sir. + +"When did the owner of the house go away?" + +"Last April. His wife was ill and he had to take her away. They +went to Italy." + +"And you two have been alone in the house since April?" + +"Yes, sir, we two." + +"Was there no janitor?" + +"No, sir. The garden was taken care of by a man who came in for +the day." + +"And you had no dog? I haven't seen any around the place." + +"No, sir; the Professor did not like animals. But he must have +been thinking about buying a dog, because I found a new dog-whip +in his room one day." + +"Somebody might have left it there. One usually buys the dog +first and then the whip." + +"Yes, sir. But there wasn't anybody here to forget it. The +Professor did not receive any visits at that time." + +"Why are you so sure of that?" + +"Because it was the middle of summer, and everybody was away." + +Oh, then, we won't bother about the whip. Can you tell me of any +ladies with whom the Professor was acquainted?" + +"Ladies? I don't know of any. Of course, the Professor was +invited out a good deal, and most of the other gentlemen from the +college were married." + +"Did he ever receive letters from ladies?" continued Muller. + +Johann thought the matter over, then confessed that he knew very +little about writing and couldn't read handwriting very well anyway. +But he remembered to have seen a letter now and then, a little +letter with a fine and delicate handwriting. + +"Have you any of these envelopes?" asked Muller. But Johann told +him that in spite of his usual carelessness in such matters, +Professor Fellner never allowed these letters to lie about his room. + +Finally the detective came out with the question to which he had +been leading up. "Did your master ever receive visits from ladies? + +Johann looked extremely stupid at this moment. His lack of +intelligence and a certain crude sensitiveness in his nature made +him take umbrage at what appeared to him a very unnecessary question. +He answered it with a shake of the head only. Muller smiled at the +young man's ill-concealed indignation and paid no attention to it. + +"Your master has been here for about a year. Where was he before +that?" + +"In the capital." + +"You were in his service then?" + +"I have been with him for three years." + +"Did he know any ladies in his former home?" + +"There was one - I think he was engaged to her." + +"Why didn't he marry her?" + +"I don't know." + +"What was her name?" + +"Marie. That's all I know about it." + +"Was she beautiful?" + +"I never saw her. The only way I knew about her was when the +Professor's friends spoke of her." + +"Did he have many friends?" + +"There were ever so many gentlemen whom he called his friends." + +"Take me into the garden now." + +"Yes, sir." Muller took his hat and coat and followed the valet +into the garden. It was of considerable size, carefully and +attractively planned, and pleasing even now when the bare twigs +bent under their load of snow. + +"Now think carefully, Johann. We had a full moon last night. Don't +you remember seeing any footsteps in the garden, leading away from +the house?" asked Muller, as they stood on the snow-covered paths. + +Johann thought it over carefully, then said decidedly, "No. At +least I don't remember anything of the kind. There was a strong +wind yesterday anyway, and the snow drifts easily out here. No +tracks could remain clear for long." + +The men walked down the straight path which led to the little gate +in the high wall. This gate had a secret lock, which, however, was +neither hard to find nor hard to open. Muller managed it with ease, +and looked out through the gate on the street beyond. The broad +promenade, deserted now in its winter snowiness, led away in one +direction to the heart of the city. In the other it ended in the +main county high-road. This was a broad, well-made turnpike, with +footpath and rows of trees. A half-hour's walk along it would bring +one to the little village clustering about the Archduke's favourite +hunting castle. There was a little railway station near the castle, +but it was used only by suburban trains or for the royal private car. + +Muller did not intend to burden his brain with unnecessary facts, +so with his usual thoroughness he left the further investigation of +what lay beyond the gate, until he had searched the garden thoroughly. +But even for his sharp eyes there was no trace to be found that +would tell of the night visit of the murderer. + +"In which of the pails did you put the key to the side door?" he +asked. + +"In the first pail on the right hand side. But be careful, sir; +there's a nail sticking out of the post there. The wind tore off +a piece of wood yesterday." + +The warning came too late. Muller's sleeve tore apart with a sharp +sound just as Johann spoke, for the detective had already plunged +his hand into the pail. The bottom of the bucket was easy to reach, +as this one hung much lower than the others. Looking regretfully +at the rent in his coat, Muller asked for needle and thread that +he might repair it sufficiently to get home. + +"Oh, don't bother about sewing it; I'll lend you one of mine," +exclaimed Johann. "I'll carry this one home for you, for I'm not +going to stay here alone - I'd be afraid. I'm going to a friend's +house. You can find me there any time you need me. You'd better +take the key of the apartment and give it to the police." + +The detective had no particular fondness for the task of sewing, +and he was glad to accept the valet's friendly offering. He was +rather astonished at the evident costliness of the garment the +young man handed him, and when he spoke of it, the valet could +not say enough in praise of the kindness of his late master. He +pulled out several other articles of clothing, which, like the +overcoat, had been given to him by Fellner. Then he packed up +a few necessities and announced himself as ready to start. He +insisted on carrying the torn coat, and Muller permitted it after +some protest. They carefully closed the apartment and the house, +and walked toward the centre of the city to the police station, +where Muller lived. + +As they crossed the square, it suddenly occurred to Johann that he +had no tobacco. He was a great smoker, and as he had many days of +enforced idleness ahead of him, he ran into a tobacco shop to +purchase a sufficiency of this necessity of life. + +Muller waited outside, and his attention was attracted by a large +grey Ulmer hound which was evidently waiting for some one within +the shop. The dog came up to him in a most friendly manner, allowed +him to pat its head, rubbed up against him with every sign of +pleasure, and would not leave him even when he turned to go after +Johann came out of the shop. Still accompanied by the dog, the two +men walked on quite a distance, when a sharp whistle was heard +behind them, and the dog became uneasy. He would not leave them, +however, until a powerful voice called "Tristan!" several times. +Muller turned and saw that Tristan's master was a tall, stately man +wearing a handsome fur overcoat. + +It was impossible to recognise his face at this distance, for the +snowflakes were whirling thickly in the air. But Muller was not +particularly anxious to recognise the stranger, as he had his head +full of more important thoughts. + +When Johann had given his new address and remarked that he would +call for his coat soon, the men parted, and Muller returned to +the police station. + +The next day the principal newspaper of the town printed the +following notice: + + THE GOLDEN BULLET + + It is but a few days since we announced to our readers the sad + news of the death of a beautiful woman, whose leap from her + window, while suffering from the agonies of fever, destroyed + the happiness of an unusually harmonious marriage. And now we + are compelled to print the news of another equally sad as well + as mysterious occurrence. This time, Fate has demanded the + sacrifice of the life of a capable and promising young man. + Professor Paul Fellner, a member of the faculty of our college, + was found dead at his desk yesterday morning. It was thought at + first that it was a case of suicide, for doors and windows were + carefully closed from within and those who discovered the corpse + were obliged to break open one of the doors to get to it. And + a revolver was found lying close at hand, upon the desk. But + this revolver was loaded in every chamber and there was no other + weapon to be seen in the room. There was a bullet wound in the + left breast of the corpse, and the bullet had penetrated the + heart. Death must have been instantaneous. + + The most mysterious thing about this strange affair was + discovered during the autopsy. It is incredible, but it is + absolutely true, as it is vouched for under oath by the + authorities who were present, that the bullet which was found + in the heart of the dead man was made of solid gold. And yet, + strange as is this circumstance, it is still more a riddle how + the murderer could have escaped from the room where he had shot + down his victim, for the keys in both doors were in the locks + from the inside. We have evidently to do here with a criminal + of very unusual cleverness and it is therefore not surprising + that there has been no clue discovered thus far. The only + thing that is known is that this murder was an act of revenge. + +The entire city was in excitement over the mystery, even the police +station was shaken out of its usual business-like indifference. +There was no other topic of conversation in any of the rooms but +the mystery of the golden bullet and the doors closed from the +inside. The attendants and the policeman gathered whispering in +the corners, and strangers who came in on their own business forgot +it in their excitement over this new and fascinating mystery. + +That afternoon Muller passed through Horn's office with a bundle +of papers, on his way to the inner office occupied by his patron, +Chief of Police Bauer. Horn, who had avoided Muller since yesterday +although he was conscious of a freshened interest in the man, raised +his head and watched the little detective as he walked across the +room with his usual quiet tread. The commissioner saw nothing but +the usual humble business-like manner to which he was accustomed +- then suddenly something happened that came to him like a distinct +shock. Muller stopped in his walk so suddenly that one foot was +poised in the air. His bowed head was thrown back, his face +flushed to his forehead, and the papers trembled in his hands. He +ran the fingers of his unoccupied hand through his hair and murmured +audibly, "That dog! that dog!" It was evident that some thought +had struck him with such insistence as to render him oblivious of +his surroundings. Then he finally realised where he was, and walked +on quickly to Bauer's room, his face still flushed, his hands +trembling. When he came out from the office again, he was his usual +quiet, humble self. + +But the commissioner, with his now greater knowledge of the little +man's gifts and past, could not forget the incident. During the +afternoon he found himself repeating mechanically, "That dog - that +dog." But the words meant nothing to him, hard as he might try to +find the connection. + +When the commissioner left for his home late that afternoon, Muller +re-entered the office to lay some papers on the desk. His duties +over, he was about to turn out the gas, when his eye fell on the +blotter on Horn's desk. He looked at it more closely, then burst +into a loud laugh. The same two words were scribbled again and +again over the white surface, but it was not the name of any fair +maiden, or even the title of a love poem; it was only the words, +"That dog - " + +Several days had passed since the discovery of the murder. Fellner +had been buried and his possessions taken into custody by the +authorities until his heirs should appear. The dead man's papers +and affairs were in excellent condition and the arranging of the +inheritance had been quickly done. Until the heirs should take +possession, the apartment was sealed by the police. There was +nothing else to do in the matter, and the commission appointed to +make researches had discovered nothing of value. The murderer +might easily feel that he was absolutely safe by this time. + +The day after the publication of the article we have quoted, Muller +appeared in Bauer's office and asked for a few days' leave. + +"In the Fellner case?" asked the Chief with his usual calm, and +Muller replied in the affirmative. + +Two days later he returned, bringing with him nothing but a single +little notice. + +"Marie Dorn, now Mrs. Kniepp," was one line in his notebook, and +beside it some dates. The latter showed that Marie Dorn had for +two years past been the wife of the Archducal Forest-Councillor, +Leo Kniepp. + +And for one year now Professor Paul Fellner had been in the town, +after having applied for his transference from the university in +the capital to this place, which was scarce half an hour's walk +distant from the home of the beautiful young woman who had been +the love of his youth. + +And Fellner had made his home in the quietest quarter of the city, +in that quarter which was nearest the Archducal hunting castle. +He had lived very quietly, had not cultivated the acquaintance of +the ladies of the town, but was a great walker and bicycle rider; +and every Saturday evening since he had been alone in the house, +he had sent his servant to the theatre. And it was on Saturday +evenings that Forest-Councillor Kniepp went to his Bowling Club +at the other end of the city, and did not return until the last +train at midnight. + +And during these evening hours Fellner's apartment was a convenient +place for pleasant meetings; and nothing prevented the Professor +from accompanying his beautiful friend home through the quiet +Promenade, along the turnpike to the hunting castle. And Johann +had once found a dog-whip in his master's room-and Councillor Leo +Kniepp, head of the Forestry Department, was the possessor of a +beautiful Ulmer hound which took an active interest in people who +wore clothes belonging to Fellner. + +Furthermore, in the little drawer of the bedside table in the +murdered man's room, there had been found a tortoise-shell hairpin; +and in the corner of the vestibule of his house, a little +mother-of-pearl glove button, of the kind much in fashion that +winter, because of a desire on the part of the ladies of the town +to help the home industry of the neighbourhood. Mrs. Marie Kniepp +was one of the fashionable women of the town, and several days +before the Professor was murdered, this woman had thrown herself +from the second-story window of her home, and her husband, whose +passionate eccentric nature was well known, had been a changed +man from that hour. + +It was his deep grief at the loss of his beloved wife that had +turned his hair grey and had drawn lines of terrible sorrow in his +face - said gossip. But Muller, who did not know Kniepp personally +although he had been taking a great interest in his affairs for the +last few days, had his own ideas on the subject, and he decided to +make the acquaintance of the Forest Councillor as soon as possible +- that is, after he had found out all there was to be found out +about his affairs and his habits. + +Just a week after the murder, on Saturday evening therefore, the +snow was whirling merrily about the gables and cupolas of the +Archducal hunting castle. The weather-vanes groaned and the old +trees in the park bent their tall tops under the mad wind which +swept across the earth and tore the protecting snow covering from +their branches. It was a stormy evening, not one to be out in if +a man had a warm corner in which to hide. + +An old peddler was trying to find shelter from the rapidly +increasing storm under the lea of the castle wall. He crouched so +close to the stones that he could scarcely be seen at all, in +spite of the light from the snow. Finally he disappeared altogether +behind one of the heavy columns which sprang out at intervals from +the magnificent wall. Only his head peeped out occasionally as if +looking for something. His dark, thoughtful eyes glanced over the +little village spread out on one side of the castle, and over the +railway station, its most imposing building. Then they would turn +back again to the entrance gate in the wall near where he stood. +It was a heavy iron-barred gate, its handsome ornamentation outlined +in snow, and behind it the body of a large dog could be occasionally +seen. This dog was an enormous grey Ulmer hound. + +The peddler stood for a long time motionless behind the pillar, then +he looked at his watch. "It's nearly time," he murmured, and looked +over towards the station again, where lights and figures were +gathering. + +At the same time the noise of an opening door was heard, and steps +creaked over the snow. A man, evidently a servant, opened the +little door beside the great gate and held it for another man to +pass out. "You'll come back by the night train as usual, sir?" +he asked respectfully. + +"Yes," replied the other, pushing back the dog, which fawned upon +him. + +"Come back here, Tristan," called the servant, pulling the dog in +by his collar, as lie closed the door and re-entered the house. + +The Councillor took the path to the station. He walked slowly, +with bowed head and uneven step. He did not look like a man who +was in the mood to join a merry crowd, and yet he was evidently +going to his Club. "He wants to show himself; he doesn't want to +let people think that he has anything to be afraid of," murmured +the peddler, looking after him sharply. Then his eyes suddenly +dimmed and a light sigh was heard, with another murmur, "Poor man." +The Councillor reached the station and disappeared within its door. +The train arrived and departed a few moments later. Kniepp must +have really gone to the city, for although the man behind the +pillar waited for some little time, the Councillor did not return +- a contingency that the peddler had not deemed improbable. + +About half an hour after the departure of the train the watcher came +out of his hiding place and walked noisily past the gate. What he +expected, happened. The dog rushed up to the bars, barking loudly, +but when the peddler had taken a silk muffler from the pack on his +back and held it out to the animal, the noise ceased and the dog's +anger turned to friendliness. Tristan was quite gentle, put his +huge head up to the bars to let the stranger pat it, and seemed not +at all alarmed when the latter rang the bell. + +The young man who had opened the door for the Councillor came out +from a wing of the castle. The peddler looked so frozen and yet so +venerable that the youth had not the heart to turn him away. +Possibly he was glad of a little diversion for his own sake. + +"Who do you want to see?" he asked. + +"I want to speak to the maid, the one who attended your dead +mistress." + +"Oh, then you know -?" + +"I know of the misfortune that has happened here." + +"And you think that Nanette might have something to sell to you?" + +"Yes, that's it; that's why I came. For I don't suppose there's +much chance for any business with my cigar holders and other +trifles here so near the city." + +"Cigar holders? Why, I don't know; perhaps we can make a trade. +Come in with me. Why, just see how gentle the dog is with you!" + +"Isn't he that way with everybody? I supposed he was no watchdog." + +"Oh, indeed he is. He usually won't allow anybody to touch him, +except those whom he knows well. I'm astonished that he lets you +come to the house at all." + +They had reached the door by this time. The peddler laid his hand +on the servant's arm and halted a moment. "Where was it that she +threw herself out?" + +"From the last window upstairs there." + +"And did it kill her at once?" + +"Yes. Anyway she was unconscious when we came down." + +"Was the master at home?" + +"Why, yes, it happened in the middle of the night." + +"She had a fever, didn't she? Had she been ill long?" + +"No. She was in bed that day, but we thought it was nothing of +importance." + +"These fevers come on quickly sometimes," remarked the old man +wisely, and added: "This case interests the entire neighbourhood +and I will show you that I can be grateful for anything you may +tell me - of course, only what a faithful servant could tell. It +will interest my customers very much." + +"You know all there is to know," said the valet, evidently +disappointed that he had nothing to tell which could win the +peddler's gratitude. "There are no secrets about it. Everybody +knows that they were a very happy couple, and even if there was a +little talk between them on that day, why it was pure accident and +had nothing to do with the mistress' excitement." + +"Then there was a quarrel between them?" + +"Are people talking about it?" + +"I've heard some things said. They even say that this quarrel +was the reason for - her death." + +"It's stupid nonsense!" exclaimed the servant. The old peddler +seemed to like the young man's honest indignation. + +While they were talking, they had passed through a long corridor +and the young man laid his hand on one of the doors as the peddler +asked, "Can I see Miss Nanette alone?" + +"Alone? Oho, she's engaged to me!" + +"I know that," said the stranger, who seemed to be initiated into +all the doings of this household. "And I am an old man - all I +meant was that I would rather not have any of the other servants +about." + +"I'll keep the cook out of the way if you want me to." + +"That would be a good idea. It isn't easy to talk, business before +others," remarked the old man as they entered the room. It was a +comfortably furnished and cozily warm apartment. Only two people +were there, an old woman and a pretty young girl, who both looked +up in astonishment as the men came in. + +"Who's this you're bringing in, George?" asked Nanette. + +"He's a peddler and he's got some trifles here you might like to +look at." + +"Why, yes, you wanted a thimble, didn't you, Lena?" asked Nanette, +and the cook beckoned to the peddler. "Let's see what you've got +there," she said in a friendly tone. The old man pulled out his +wares from his pack; thimbles and scissors, coloured ribbons, silks, +brushes and combs, and many other trifles. When the women had made +their several selections they noticed that the old man was shivering +with the cold, as he leaned against the stove. Their sympathies +were aroused in a moment. "Why don't you sit down?" asked Nanette, +pushing a chair towards him, and Lena rose to get him something +warm from the kitchen. + +The peddler threw a look at George, who nodded in answer. "He +said he'd like to see the things they gave you after Mrs. Kniepp's +death," the young man remarked + +"Do you buy things like that?" Nanette turned to the peddler. + +"I'd just like to look at them first, if you'll let me." + +"I'd be glad to get rid of them. But I won't go upstairs, I'm +afraid there." + +"Well, I'll get the things for you if you want me to," offered +George and turned to leave the room. The door had scarcely closed +behind him when a change came over the peddler. His old head rose +from its drooping position, his bowed figure started up with +youthful elasticity. + +"Are you really fond of him?" he asked of the astonished Nanette, +who stepped back a pace, stammering in answer: "Yes. Why do you +ask? and who are you?" + +"Never mind that, my dear child, but just answer the questions I +have to ask, and answer truthfully, or it might occur to me to let +your George know that he is not the first man you have loved." + +"What do you know?" she breathed in alarm. + +The peddler laughed. "Oho, then he's jealous! All the better for +me - the Councillor was jealous too, wasn't he?" Nanette looked at +him in horror. + +"The truth, therefore, you must tell me the truth, and get the +others away, so I can speak to you alone. You must do this - or +else I'll tell George about the handsome carpenter in Church street, +or about Franz Schmid, or - " + +"For God's sake, stop - stop - I'll do anything you say." + +The girl sank back on her chair pale and trembling, while the +peddler resumed his pose of a tired old man leaning against the +stove. When George returned with a large basket, Nanette had +calmed herself sufficiently to go about the unpacking of the +articles in the hamper. + +"George, won't you please keep Lena out in the kitchen. Ask her +to make some tea for us," asked Nanette with well feigned assurance. +George smiled a meaning smile and disappeared. + +"I am particularly interested in the dead lady's gloves," said the +peddler when they were alone again. + +Nanette looked at him in surprise but was still too frightened to +offer any remarks. She opened several boxes and packages and laid +a number of pairs of gloves on the table. The old man looked +through them, turning them over carefully. Then he shook his head: +"There must be some more somewhere," he said. Nanette was no longer +astonished at anything he might say or do, so she obediently went +through the basket again and found a little box in which were +several pair of grey suede gloves, fastened by bluish mother-of-pearl +buttons. One of the pairs had been worn, and a button was missing. + +"These are the ones I was looking for," said the peddler, putting +the gloves in his pocket. Then he continued: "Your mistress was +rather fond of taking long walks by herself, wasn't she?" + +The girl's pale face flushed hotly and she stammered: "You know +- about it?" + +"You know about it also, I see. And did you know everything?" + +"Yes, everything," murmured Nanette. + +"Then it was you and Tristan who accompanied the lady on her walks?" + +"Yes." + +"I supposed she must have taken some one into her confidence. Well, +and what do you think about the murder?" + +"The Professor?" replied Nanette hastily. "Why, what should I know +about it?" + +"The Councillor was greatly excited and very unhappy when he +discovered this affair, I suppose?" + +"He is still." + +"And how did he act after the - let us call it the accident?" + +"He was like a crazy man." + +"They tell me that he went about his duties just the same - that he +went away on business." + +"It wasn't business this time, at least not professional business. +But before that he did have to go away frequently for weeks at a +time." + +"And it was then that your mistress was most interested in her +lonely walks, eh?" + +"Yes." Nanette's voice was so low as to be scarcely heard. + +"Well, and this time?" continued the peddler. "Why did he go +away this time?" + +"He went to the capital on private business of his own." + +"Are you sure of that?" + +"Quite sure. He went two different times. I thought it was because +he couldn't stand it here and wanted to see something different. +He went to his club this evening, too." + +"And when did he go away?" + +"The first time was the day after his wife was buried." + +"And the second time?" + +Two or three days after his return." + +"How long did he stay away the first time?" + +"Only one day." + +"Good! Pull yourself together now. I'll send your George in to +you and tell him you haven't been feeling well. Don't tell any +one about our conversation. Where is the kitchen?" + +"The last door to the right down the hall." + +The peddler left the room and Nanette sank down dazed and trembling +on the nearest chair. George found her still pale, but he seemed +to think it quite natural that she should have been overcome by the +recollection of the terrible death of her mistress. He gave the +old man a most cordial invitation to return during the next few days. +The cook brought the peddler a cup of steaming tea, and purchased +several trifles from him, before he left the house. + +When the old man had reached a lonely spot on the road, about half +way between the hunting castle and the city, he halted, set down +his pack, divested himself of his beard and his wig and washed the +wrinkles from his face with a handful of snow from the wayside. A +quarter of an hour later, Detective Muller entered the railway +station of the city, burdened with a large grip. He took a seat +in the night express which rolled out from the station a few moments +later. + +As he was alone in his compartment, Muller gave way to his +excitement, sometimes even murmuring half-aloud the thoughts that +rushed through his brain. "Yes, I am convinced of it, but can I +find the proofs?" the words came again and again, and in spite of +the comfortable warmth in the compartment, in spite of his tired +and half-frozen condition, he could not sleep. + +He reached the capital at midnight and took a room in a small hotel +in a quiet street. When he went out next morning, the servants +looked after him with suspicion, as in their opinion a man who +spent most of the night pacing up and down his room must surely +have a guilty conscience. + +Muller went to police headquarters and looked through the arrivals +at the hotels on the 21st of November. The burial of Mrs. Kniepp +had taken place on the 20th. Muller soon found the name he was +looking for, "Forest Councillor Leo Kniepp," in the list of guests +at the Hotel Imperial. The detective went at once to the Hotel +Imperial, where he was already well known. It cost him little time +and trouble to discover what he wished to know, the reason for the +Councillor's visit to the capital. + +Kniepp had asked for the address of a goldsmith, and had been +directed to one of the shops which had the best reputation in the +city. He had been in the capital altogether for about twenty-four +hours. He had the manner and appearance of a man suffering under +some terrible blow. + +Muller himself was deep in thought as he entered the train to +return to his home, after a visit to the goldsmith in question. +He had a short interview with Chief of Police Bauer, who finally +gave him the golden bullet and the keys to the apartment of the +murdered man. Then the two went out together. + +An hour later, the chief of police and Muller stood in the garden +of the house in which the murder had occurred. Bauer had entered +from the Promenade after Muller had shown him how to work the lock +of the little gate. Together they went up into the apartment, +which was icy cold and uncanny in its loneliness. But the two men +did not appear to notice this, so greatly were they interested in +the task that had brought them there. First of all, they made a +most minute examination of the two doors which had been locked. The +keys were still in both locks on the inside. They were big heavy +keys, suitable for the tall massive heavily-paneled and +iron-ornamented doors. The entire villa was built in this heavy +old German style, the favourite fashion of the last few years. + +When they had looked the locks over carefully, Muller lit the lamp +that hung over the desk in the study and closed the window shutters +tight. Bauer had smiled at first as he watched his, protege's +actions, but his smile changed to a look of keen interest as he +suddenly understood. Muller took his place in the chair before the +desk and looked over at the door of the vestibule, which was +directly opposite him. "Yes, that's all right," he said with a +deep breath. + +Bauer had sat down on the sofa to watch the proceedings, now he +sprang up with an exclamation: "Through the keyhole?" + +"Through the keyhole," answered Muller. + +"It is scarcely possible." + +"Shall we try it?" + +"Yes, yes, you do it." Even the usually indifferent old chief of +police was breathing more hastily now. Muller took a roll of paper +and a small pistol out of his pocket. He unrolled the paper, which +represented the figure of a French soldier with a marked target on +the breast. The detective pinned the paper on the back of the chair +in which Professor Fellner had been seated when he met his death. + +"But the key was in the hole," objected Bauer suddenly. + +"Yes, but it was turned so that the lower part of the hole was free. +Johann saw the light streaming through and could look into the room. +If the murderer put the barrel of his pistol to this open part of +the keyhole, the bullet would have to strike exactly where the dead +man sat. There would be no need to take any particular aim." +Muller gazed into space like a seer before whose mental eye a vision +has arisen, and continued in level tones: "Fellner had refused the +duel and the murderer was crazed by his desire for revenge. He came +here to the house, he must have known just how to enter the place, +how to reach the rooms, and he must have known also, that the +Professor, coward as he was - " + +"Coward? Is a man a coward when he refuses to stand up to a maniac?" +interrupted Bauer. + +Muller came back to the present with a start and said calmly, +"Fellner was a coward." + +"Then you know more than you are telling me now?" + +Muller nodded. "Yes, I do," he answered with a smile. "But I will +tell you more only when I have all the proofs in my own hand." + +"And the criminal will escape us in the meantime." + +"He has no idea that he is suspected." + +"But - you'll promise to be sensible this time, Muller?" + +"Yes. But you will pardon me my present reticence, even towards +you? I - I don't want to be thought a dreamer again." + +"As in the Kniepp case?" + +"As in the Kniepp case," repeated the little man with a strange +smile. "So please allow me to go about it in my own way. I will +tell you all you want to know to-morrow." + +"To-morrow, then." + +"May I now continue to unfold my theories?" Bauer nodded and +Muller continued: "The criminal wanted Fellner's blood, no matter +how." + +"Even if it meant murder," said Bauer. + +Muller nodded calmly. "It would have been nobler, perhaps, to +have warned his victim of his approach, but it might have all come +to nothing then. The other could have called for help, could have +barricaded himself in his room, one crime might have been prevented, +and another, more shameful one, would have gone unavenged." + +"Another crime? Fellner a criminal?" + +"To-morrow you shall know everything, my kind friend. And now, let +us make the trial. Please lock the door behind me as it was locked +then." + +Muller left the room, taking the pistol with him. Bauer locked the +door. "Is this right?" he asked. + +"Yes, I can see a wide curve of the room, taking in the entire desk. +Please stand to one side now." + +There was deep silence for a moment, then a slight sound as of metal +on metal, then a report, and Muller re-entered the study through the +bedroom. He found Bauer stooping over the picture of the French +soldier. There was a hole in the left breast, where the bullet, +passing through, had buried itself in the back of the chair. + +"Yes, it was all just as you said," began the chief of police, +holding out his hand to Muller. "But - why the golden bullet?" + +"To-morrow, to-morrow," replied the detective, looking up at his +superior with a glance of pleading. + +They left the house together and in less than an hour's time Muller +was again in the train rolling towards the capital. + +He went to the goldsmith's shop as soon as he arrived. The +proprietor received him with eager interest and Muller handed him +the golden bullet. "Here is the golden object of which I spoke," +said the detective, paying no heed to the other's astonishment. +The goldsmith opened a small locked drawer, took a ring from it and +set about an examination of the two little objects. When he turned +to his visitor again, he was evidently satisfied with what he had +discovered. "These two objects are made of exactly the same sort +of gold, of a peculiar old French composition, which can no longer +be produced in the same richness. The weight of the gold in the +bullet is exactly the same as in the ring." + +"Would you be willing to take an oath on that if you were called +in as an expert?" + +"I am willing to stand up for my judgment." + +"Good. And now will you read this over please, it contains the +substance of what you told me yesterday. Should I have made any +mistakes, please correct them, for I will ask you to set your +signature to it." + +Muller handed several sheets of close writing to the goldsmith and +the latter read aloud as follows: "On the 22nd of November, a +gentleman came into my shop and handed me a wedding ring with the +request that I should make another one exactly like it. He was +particularly anxious that the work should be done in two days at +the very latest, and also that the new ring, in form, colour, and +in the engraving on the inside, should be a perfect counterpart of +the first. He explained his order by saying that his wife was ill, +and that she was grieving over the loss of her wedding ring which +had somehow disappeared. The new ring could be found somewhere as +if by chance and the sick woman's anxiety would be over. Two days +later, as arranged, the same gentleman appeared again and I handed +him the two rings. + +"He left the shop, greatly satisfied with my work and apparently +much relieved in his mind. But he left me uneasy in spirit because +I had deceived him. It had not been possible for me to reproduce +exactly the composition of the original ring, and as I believed that +the work was to be done in order to comfort an invalid, and I was +getting no profit, but on the contrary a little extra work out of +it, I made two new rings, lettered them according to the original +and gave them to my customer. The original ring I am now, on this +seventh day of December, giving to Mr. Joseph Mullet, who has shown +me his legitimation as a member of the Secret Police. I am willing +to put myself at the service of the authorities if I am called for." + +"You are willing to do this, aren't you?" asked Muller when the +goldsmith had arrived at the end of the notice. + +"Of course." + +"Have you anything to add to this?" + +"No, it is quite complete. I will sign it at once." + +Several hours later, Muller re-entered the police station in his +home town and saw the windows of the chief's apartment brilliantly +lighted. "What's going on," he asked of Baner's servant who was +just hurrying up the stairs. + +"The mistress' birthday, we've got company." + +Muller grumbled something and went on up to his own room. He knew +it would not be pleasant for his patron to be disturbed in the midst +of entertaining his guests, but the matter was important and could +not wait. + +The detective laid off his outer garments, made a few changes in +his toilet and putting the goldsmith's declaration, with the ring +and the bullet in his pocketbook, he went down to the first floor +of the building, in one wing of which was the apartment occupied by +the Chief. He sent in his name and was told to wait in the little +study. He sat down quietly in a corner of the comfortable little +room beyond which, in a handsomely furnished smoking room, a number +of guests sat playing cards. From the drawing rooms beyond, there +was the sound of music and many voices. + +It was all very attractive and comfortable, and the solitary man +sat there enjoying once more the pleasant sensation of triumph, of +joy at the victory that was his alone and that would win him back +all his old friends and prestige. He was looking forward in +agreeable anticipation to the explanations he had to give, when he +suddenly started and grew pale. His eyes dimmed a moment, then he +pulled himself together and murmured: "No, no, not this time. I +will not be weak this time." + +Just then the Chief entered the room, accompanied by Councillor +Kniepp. + +"Won't you sit down here a little?" asked the friendly host. "You +will find it much quieter in this room." He pulled up a little +table laden with cigars and wine, close to a comfortable armchair. +Then, noticing Muller, he continued with a friendly nod: "I'm glad +they told you to wait in here. You must be frozen after your long +ride. If you will wait just a moment more, I will return at once +and we can go into my office. And if you will make yourself +comfortable here, my dear Kniepp, I will send our friend Horn in +to talk with you. He is bright and jovial and will keep you amused." + +The chief chattered on, making a strenuous endeavour to appear quite +harmless. But Kniepp, more apt than ever just now to notice the +actions of others, saw plainly that his genial host was concealing +some excitement. When the latter had gone out the Councillor looked +after him, shaking his head. Then his glance fell by chance on the +quiet-looking man who had risen at his entrance and had not sat +down again. + +"Please sit down," he said in a friendly tone, but the other did not +move. His grey eyes gazed intently at the man whose fate he was to +change so horribly. + +Kniepp grew uneasy under the stare. "What is there that interests +you so about me?" he asked in a tone that was an attempt at a joke. + +"The ring, the ring on your watch chain," murmured Muller. + +"It belonged to my dead wife. I have worn it since she left me," +answered the unhappy man with the same iron calm with which he had, +all these past days, been emphasizing his love for the woman he +had lost. Yet the question touched him unpleasantly and he looked +more sharply at the strange man over in the corner. He saw the +latter's face turn pale and a shiver run through his form. A +feeling of sympathy came over Kniepp and he asked warmly: "Won't +you take a glass of this wine? If you have been out in the cold +it will be good for you." His tone was gentle, almost cordial, +but the man to whom he offered the refreshment turned from him with +a gesture that was almost one of terror. + +The Councillor rose suddenly from his chair. "Who are you? What +news is it you bring?" he asked with a voice that began to tremble. + +Muller raised his head sharply as if his decision had been made, +and his kind intelligent eyes grew soft as they rested on the pale +face of the stately man before him. "I belong to the Secret Police +and I am compelled to find out the secrets of others - not because +of my profession - no, because my own nature compels me - I must do +it. I have just come from Vienna and I bring the last of the proofs +necessary to turn you over to the courts. And yet you are a +thousand times better than the coward who stole the honour of your +wife and who hid behind the shelter of the law - and therefore, +therefore, therefore - " Muller's voice grew hoarse, then died +away altogether. + +Kniepp listened with pallid cheeks but without a quiver. Now he +spoke, completing the other's words: "And therefore you wish to +save me from the prison or from the gallows? I thank you. What +is your name?" The unhappy man spoke as calmly as if the matter +scarcely concerned him at all. + +The detective told him his name. + +"Muller, Muller," repeated the Councillor, as if he were +particularly anxious to remember the name. He held out his hand +to the detective. "I thank you, ab, indeed, it thank you," he +said with the first sign of emotion he had shown, and then added +low: "Do not fear that you will have trouble on my account. They +can find me in my home." With these words he turned away and sat +down in his chair again. When Bauer entered the room a few moments +later, Kniepp was smoking calmly. + +"Now, Muller, I'm ready. Horn will be in in a moment, friend +Kniepp; I know you will enjoy his chatter." The chief led the way +out of the room through another door. He could not see the ghastly +pale face of the guest he left behind him, for it was almost hidden +in a cloud of thick smoke, but Muller turned back once more at the +threshold and caught a last grateful glance from eyes shadowed by +deep sadness, as the Councillor raised his hand in a friendly +gesture. + +"Dear Muller, you take so long to get at the point of the story! +Don't you see you are torturing me?" This outburst came from the +Chief about an hour later. But the detective would not permit +himself to be interrupted in spinning out his story in his own +way, and it was nearly another hour before Bauer knew that the man +for whose name he had been waiting so long was Leo Kniepp. + +The knowledge came as a terrible surprise to him. He was dazed +almost. "And I, - I've got to arrest him in my own house?" he +exclaimed as if horrified. And Muller answered calmly: "I doubt +if you will have the opportunity, sir." + +"Muller! Did you, again - " + +"Yes, I did! I have again warned an unfortunate. It's my nature, +I can't seem to help it. But you will find the Councillor in his +house. He promised me that." + +"And you believe it?" + +"That man will keep his promise," said Muller quietly. + +Councillor Kniepp did keep his promise. When the police arrived at +the hunting castle shortly after midnight, they found the terrified +servants standing by the body of their master. + +"Well, Muller, you had better luck than you deserved this time," +Bauer said a few days later. "This last trick has made you quite +impossible for the service. But you needn't worry about that, +because the legacy Kniepp left you will put you out of reach of +want." + +The detective was as much surprised as anybody. He was as if dazed +by his unexpected good fortune. The day before he was a poor man +bowed under the weight of sordid cares, and now he was the possessor +of twenty thousand gulden. And it was not his clever brain but his +warm heart that had won this fortune for him. His breast swelled +with gratitude as he thought of the unhappy man whose life had been +ruined by the careless cruelty of others and his own passions. +Again and again he read the letter which had been found on Kniepp's +desk, addressed to him and which had been handed out to him after +the inquest. + + My friend:- + + You have saved me from the shame of an open trial. I thank you + for this from the very depth of my heart. I have left you a + part of my own private fortune, that you may be a free man, free + as a poor man never can be. You can accept this present for it + comes from the hand of an honest man in spite of all. Yes, I + compelled my wife to go to her death after I had compelled her + to confess her shame to me, and I entered her lover's house with + the knowledge I had forced from her. When I looked through the + keyhole and saw his false face before me, I murdered him in cold + blood. Then, that the truth might not be suspected, I continued + to play the sorrowing husband. I wore on my watch chain the ring + I had had made in imitation of the one my wife had worn. This + original ring of hers, her wedding ring which she had defiled, + I sent in the form of a bullet straight to her lover's heart. + Yes, I have committed a crime, but I feel that I am less criminal + than those two whom I judged and condemned, and whose sentence I + carried out as I now shall carry out my own sentence with a hand + which will not tremble. That I can do this myself, I have you to + thank for, you who can look into the souls of men and recognise + the most hidden motives, you who have not only a wonderful brain + but a heart that can feel. You, I hope, will sometimes think + kindly of your grateful + LEO KNIEPP. + +Muller kept this letter as one of his most sacred treasures. + +The "Kniepp Case" was really, as Bauer had predicted, the last in +Muller's public career. Even the friendliness of the kind old +chief could not keep him in his position after this new display +of the unreliability of his heart. But his quiet tastes allowed +him to live in humble comfort from the income of his little fortune. + +Every now and then letters or telegrams will come for him and he +will disappear for several days. His few friends believe that the +police authorities, who refused to employ him publicly owing to his +strange weakness, cannot resist a private appeal to his talent +whenever a particularly difficult case arises. + + + + + +End of The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Case of the Golden Bullet** + diff --git a/old/cotgb10.zip b/old/cotgb10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..152c69e --- /dev/null +++ b/old/cotgb10.zip |