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diff --git a/78655-h/78655-h.htm b/78655-h/78655-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5b9f757 --- /dev/null +++ b/78655-h/78655-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,16992 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + The scarab murder case | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +/* Headers and Divisions */ + h1, h2, h3, h4 {margin:4em 0em 1em 0em; page-break-before:always; text-align:center;} + +/* General */ + + body {margin:0% 5% 0% 5%;} + + p {margin:0em 0em 0em 0em; text-align:justify; text-indent:1em;} + .center {margin:0em 0em 0em 0em; text-align:center; text-indent:0em;} + .noindent {text-indent:0em;} + + .toc_l {font-variant:small-caps; margin:0em 0em 0em 2em; text-indent:-2em;} + + .chap_sub {font-size:80%;} + .font80 {font-size:80%;} + .sc {font-variant:small-caps;} + +/* special formatting */ + + blockquote {margin:1em 2em 1em 2em;} + + .mt1 {margin-top:1em;} + .mt2 {margin-top:2em;} + .mt4 {margin-top:4em;} + + figure {margin:1em auto 1em auto; text-align:center;} + figcaption {font-size:80%; margin:1em 2em 1em 2em;} + +</style> +</head> + +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78655 ***</div> + + +<figure> +<a href="images/img_fp.jpg"><img alt="img_fp.jpg" src="images/img_fp_th.jpg"></a> +<figcaption> +VANCE LIFTED SALVETER TO HIS FEET. “I CAN MANAGE THIS IMPETUOUS +GENTLEMAN,” HE SAID.<br> +(From a drawing by Raymond Sisley.) +</figcaption> +</figure> + + +<h1> +THE SCARAB<br> +MURDER CASE +</h1> + +<p class="center"> +A PHILO VANCE STORY +</p> + +<p class="center mt1"> +<span class="font80">By</span><br> +S.S. VAN DINE +</p> + +<p class="center mt2"> +La vérité n’a point cet air impétueux.—<i>Boileau</i>. +</p> + +<p class="center mt4"> +<span class="font80">NEW YORK</span><br> +CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS<br> +<span class="font80">MCMXXX</span> +</p> + + +<h2> +[COPYRIGHT] +</h2> + +<p class="center"> +Copyright, 1929, 1930, by<br> +W.H. WRIGHT +</p> + + +<h2> +[DEDICATION] +</h2> + +<p class="center"> +DEDICATED<br> +WITH APPRECIATION<br> +TO<br> +AMBROSE LANSING<br> +LUDLOW BULL<br> +AND<br> +HENRY A. CAREY<br> +OF THE EGYPTIAN DEPARTMENT OF<br> +THE METROPOLITAN MUSEUM<br> +OF ART +</p> + + +<h2> +CONTENTS +</h2> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch01">I. Murder!</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch02">II. The Vengeance of Sakhmet</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch03">III. <i>Scarabæus Sacer</i></a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch04">IV. Tracks in the Blood</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch05">V. Meryt-Amen</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch06">VI. A Four-Hour Errand</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch07">VII. The Finger-Prints</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch08">VIII. In the Study</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch09">IX. Vance Makes an Experiment</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch10">X. The Yellow Pencil</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch11">XI. The Coffee Percolator</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch12">XII. The Tin of Opium</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch13">XIII. An Attempted Escape</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch14">XIV. A Hieroglyphic Letter</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch15">XV. Vance Makes a Discovery</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch16">XVI. A Call After Midnight</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch17">XVII. The Golden Dagger</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch18">XVIII. A Light in the Museum</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch19">XIX. A Broken Appointment</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch20">XX. The Granite Sarcophagus</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch21">XXI. The Murderer</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#ch22">XXII. The Judgment of Anûbis</a> +</p> + +<p class="toc_l"> +<a href="#endnotes">Endnotes</a> +</p> + + +<h2> +CHARACTERS OF THE BOOK +</h2> + +<p> +<span class="sc">Philo Vance</span> +</p> + +<p> +<span class="sc">John F.-X. Markham</span>, District Attorney of New York County. +</p> + +<p> +<span class="sc">Ernest Heath</span>, Sergeant of the Homicide Bureau. +</p> + +<p> +<span class="sc">Dr. Mindrum W.C. Bliss</span>, Egyptologist; head of the Bliss Museum of +Egyptian Antiquities. +</p> + +<p> +<span class="sc">Benjamin H. Kyle</span>, Philanthropist and art patron. +</p> + +<p> +<span class="sc">Meryt-Amen</span>, Wife of Dr. Bliss. +</p> + +<p> +<span class="sc">Robert Salveter</span>, Assistant Curator of the Bliss Museum; nephew of +Benjamin H. Kyle. +</p> + +<p> +<span class="sc">Donald Scarlett</span>, Technical Expert of the Bliss Expeditions in Egypt. +</p> + +<p> +<span class="sc">Anûpu Hani</span>, Family retainer of the Blisses. +</p> + +<p> +<span class="sc">Brush</span>, The Bliss butler. +</p> + +<p> +<span class="sc">Dingle</span>, The Bliss cook. +</p> + +<p> +<span class="sc">Hennessey</span>, Detective of the Homicide Bureau. +</p> + +<p> +<span class="sc">Snitkin</span>, Detective of the Homicide Bureau. +</p> + +<p> +<span class="sc">Emery</span>, Detective of the Homicide Bureau. +</p> + +<p> +<span class="sc">Guilfoyle</span>, Detective of the Homicide Bureau. +</p> + +<p> +<span class="sc">Captain Dubois</span>, Finger-print expert. +</p> + +<p> +<span class="sc">Detective Bellamy</span>, Finger-print expert. +</p> + +<p> +<span class="sc">Dr. Emanuel Doremus</span>, Medical Examiner +</p> + +<p> +<span class="sc">Currie</span>, Vance’s valet. +</p> + + +<h2> +THE SCARAB<br> +MURDER CASE +</h2> + + +<h3 id="ch01"> +CHAPTER I.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">MURDER!</span> +</h3> + +<p class="center"> +(<i>Friday, July 13; 11 a.m.</i>) +</p> + +<p> +Philo Vance was drawn into the Scarab murder case by sheer +coincidence, although there is little doubt that John F.-X. +Markham—New York’s District Attorney—would sooner or later have +enlisted his services. But it is problematic if even Vance, with his +fine analytic mind and his remarkable <i>flair</i> for the subtleties of +human psychology, could have solved that bizarre and astounding murder +if he had not been the first observer on the scene; for, in the end, +he was able to put his finger on the guilty person only because of the +topsy-turvy clews that had met his eye during his initial inspection. +</p> + +<p> +Those clews—highly misleading from the materialistic point of +view—eventually gave him the key to the murderer’s mentality and thus +enabled him to elucidate one of the most complicated and incredible +criminal problems in modern police history. +</p> + +<p> +The brutal and fantastic murder of that old philanthropist and art +patron, Benjamin H. Kyle, became known as the Scarab murder case +almost immediately, as a result of the fact that it had taken place in +a famous Egyptologist’s private museum and had centred about a rare +blue scarabæus that had been found beside the mutilated body of the +victim. +</p> + +<p> +This ancient and valuable seal, inscribed with the names of one of the +early Pharaohs (whose mummy had, by the way, not been found at the +time), constituted the basis on which Vance reared his astonishing +structure of evidence. The scarab, from the police point of view, was +merely an incidental piece of evidence that pointed somewhat obviously +toward its owner; but this easy and specious explanation did not +appeal to Vance. +</p> + +<p> +“Murderers,” he remarked to Sergeant Ernest Heath, “do not ordinarily +insert their visitin’ cards in the shirt bosoms of their victims. And +while the discovery of the lapis-lazuli beetle is most interestin’ +from both the psychological and evidential standpoints, we must not be +too optimistic and jump to conclusions. The most important question in +this pseudo-mystical murder is why—and how—the murderer left that +archæological specimen beside the defunct body. Once we find the +reason for that amazin’ action, we’ll hit upon the secret of the crime +itself.” +</p> + +<p> +The doughty Sergeant had sniffed at Vance’s suggestion and had +ridiculed his scepticism; but before another day had passed he +generously admitted that Vance had been right, and that the murder had +not been so simple as it had appeared at first view. +</p> + +<p> +As I have said, a coincidence brought Vance into the case before the +police were notified. An acquaintance of his had discovered the slain +body of old Mr. Kyle, and had immediately come to him with the +gruesome news. +</p> + +<p> +It happened on the morning of Friday, July 13th. Vance had just +finished a late breakfast in the roof-garden of his apartment in East +Thirty-eighth Street, and had returned to the library to continue his +translation of the Menander fragments found in the Egyptian papyri +during the early years of the present century, when Currie—his valet +and majordomo—shuffled into the room and announced with an air of +discreet apology: +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Donald Scarlett has just arrived, sir, in a state of distressing +excitement, and asks that you hasten to receive him.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance looked up from his work with an expression of boredom. +</p> + +<p> +“Scarlett, eh? Very annoyin’.… And why should he call on me when +excited? I infinitely prefer calm people.… Did you offer him a +brandy-and-soda—or some triple bromides?” +</p> + +<p> +“I took the liberty of placing a service of Courvoisier brandy before +him,” explained Currie. “I recall that Mr. Scarlett has a weakness for +Napoleon’s cognac.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, yes—so he has.… Quite right, Currie.” Vance leisurely lit one of +his <i>Régie</i> cigarettes and puffed a moment in silence. “Suppose you +show him in when you deem his nerves sufficiently calm.” +</p> + +<p> +Currie bowed and departed. +</p> + +<p> +“Interestin’ johnny, Scarlett,” Vance commented to me. (I had been +with Vance all morning arranging and filing his notes.) “You remember +him, Van—eh, what?” +</p> + +<p> +I had met Scarlett twice, but I must admit I had not thought of him +for a month or more. The impression of him, however, came back to me +now with considerable vividness. He had been, I knew, a college mate +of Vance’s at Oxford, and Vance had run across him during his sojourn +in Egypt two years before. +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett was a student of Egyptology and archæology, having +specialized in these subjects at Oxford under Professor F.Ll. +Griffith. Later he had taken up chemistry and photography in order +that he might join some Egyptological expedition in a technical +capacity. He was a well-to-do Englishman, an amateur and dilettante, +and had made of Egyptology a sort of fad. +</p> + +<p> +When Vance had gone to Alexandria Scarlett had been working in the +Museum laboratory at Cairo. The two had met again and renewed their +old acquaintance. Recently Scarlett had come to America as a member of +the staff of Doctor Mindrum W.C. Bliss, the famous Egyptologist, who +maintained a private museum of Egyptian antiquities in an old house in +East Twentieth Street, facing Gramercy Park. He had called on Vance +several times since his arrival in this country, and it was at Vance’s +apartment that I had met him. He had, however, never called without an +invitation, and I was at a loss to understand his unexpected +appearance this morning, for he possessed all of the well-bred +Englishman’s punctiliousness about social matters. +</p> + +<p> +Vance, too, was somewhat puzzled, despite his attitude of +lackadaisical indifference. +</p> + +<p> +“Scarlett’s a clever lad,” he drawled musingly. “And most proper. Why +should he call on me at this indecent hour? And why should he be +excited? I hope nothing untoward has befallen his erudite employer.… +Bliss is an astonishin’ man, Van—one of the world’s great +Egyptologists.”<sup><a href="#n01b" id="n01a">[1]</a></sup> +</p> + +<p> +I recalled that during the winter which Vance had spent in Egypt he +had become greatly interested in the work of Doctor Bliss, who was +then endeavoring to locate the tomb of Pharaoh Intef V who ruled over +Upper Egypt at Thebes during the Hyksos domination. In fact, Vance had +accompanied Bliss on an exploration in the Valley of the Tombs of the +Kings. At that time he had just become attracted by the Menander +fragments, and he had been in the midst of a uniform translation of +them when the Bishop murder case interrupted his labors. +</p> + +<p> +Vance had also been interested in the variations of chronology of the +Old and the Middle Kingdoms of Egypt—not from the historical +standpoint but from the standpoint of the evolution of Egyptian art. +His researches led him to side with the Bliss-Weigall, or short, +chronology<sup><a href="#n02b" id="n02a">[2]</a></sup> (based on the Turin Papyrus), as opposed to the long +chronology of Hall and Petrie, who set back the Twelfth Dynasty and +all preceding history one full Sothic cycle, or 1,460 years. After +inspecting the art works of the pre-Hyksos and the post-Hyksos eras, +Vance was inclined to postulate an interval of not more than 300 years +between the Twelfth and Eighteenth Dynasties, in accordance with the +shorter chronology. In comparing certain statues made during the reign +of Amen-em-hêt III with others made during the reign of Thut-mosè +I—thus bridging the Hyksos invasion, with its barbaric Asiatic +influence and its annihilation of indigenous Egyptian culture—he +arrived at the conclusion that the maintenance of the principles of +Twelfth-Dynasty æsthetic attainment could not have been possible with +a wider lacuna than 300 years. In brief, he concluded that, had the +interregnum been longer, the evidences of decadence in +Eighteenth-Dynasty art would have been even more pronounced. +</p> + +<p> +These researches of Vance’s ran through my head that sultry July +morning as we waited for Currie to usher in the visitor. The +announcement of Scarlett’s call had brought back memories of many +wearying weeks of typing and tabulating Vance’s notes on the subject. +Perhaps I had a feeling—what we loosely call a premonition—that +Scarlett’s surprising visit was in some way connected with Vance’s +æsthetico-Egyptological researches. Perhaps I was even then arranging +in my mind, unconsciously, the facts of that winter two years before, +so that I might cope more understandingly with the object of +Scarlett’s present call. +</p> + +<p> +But surely I could have had not the slightest idea or suspicion of +what was actually about to befall us. It was far too appalling and too +bizarre for the casual imagination. It lifted us out of the ordinary +routine of daily experience and dashed us into a frowsty, miasmic +atmosphere of things at once incredible and horrifying—things fraught +with the seemingly supernatural black magic of a Witches’ Sabbat. +Only, in this instance it was the mystic and fantastic lore of ancient +Egypt—with its confused mythology and its grotesque pantheon of +beast-headed gods—that furnished the background. +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett almost dashed through the portières of the library when +Currie had pulled back the sliding door for him to enter. Either the +Courvoisier had added to his excitement or else Currie had woefully +underrated the man’s nervous state. +</p> + +<p> +“Kyle has been murdered!” the newcomer blurted, leaning against the +library table and staring at Vance with gaping eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Really, now! That’s very distressin’.” Vance held out his +cigarette-case. “Do have one of my <i>Régies</i>.… And you’ll find that +chair beside you most comfortable. A Charles chair: I picked it up in +London.… Beastly mess, people getting murdered, what? But it really +can’t be helped, don’t y’ know. The human race is so deuced +blood-thirsty.” +</p> + +<p> +His indifference had a salutary effect on Scarlett, who sank limply +into the chair and began lighting his cigarette with trembling hands. +</p> + +<p> +Vance waited a moment and then asked: +</p> + +<p> +“By the by, how do you know Kyle has been murdered?” +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett gave a start. +</p> + +<p> +“I saw him lying there—his head bashed in. A frightful sight. No +doubt about it.” (I could not help feeling that the man had suddenly +assumed a defensive attitude.) +</p> + +<p> +Vance lay back in his chair languidly and pyramided his long tapering +hands. +</p> + +<p> +“Bashed in with what? And lying where? And how did you happen to +discover the corpse? … Buck up, Scarlett, and make an effort at +coherence.” +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett frowned and took several deep inhalations on his cigarette. +He was a man of about forty, tall and slender, with a head more Alpine +than Nordic—a Dinaric type. His forehead bulged slightly, and his +chin was round and recessive. He had the look of a scholar, though not +that of a sedentary bookworm, for there was strength and ruggedness in +his body; and his face was deeply tanned like that of a man who has +lived for years in the sun and wind. There was a trace of fanaticism +in his intense eyes—an expression that was somehow enhanced by an +almost completely bald head. Yet he gave me the impression of honesty +and straightforwardness—in this, at least, his British +institutionalism was strongly manifest. +</p> + +<p> +“Right you are, Vance,” he said after a brief pause, with a more or +less successful effort at calmness. “As you know, I came to New York +with Doctor Bliss in May as a member of his staff; and I’ve been doing +all the technical work for him. I have my diggings round the corner +from the museum, in Irving Place. This morning I had a batch of +photographs to classify, and reached the museum shortly before half +past ten.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Your usual hour?” Vance put the question negligently. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no. I was a bit latish this morning. We’d been working last night +on a financial report of the last expedition.” +</p> + +<p> +“And then?” +</p> + +<p> +“Funny thing,” continued Scarlett. “The front door was slightly +ajar—I generally have to ring. But I saw no reason to disturb +Brush——” +</p> + +<p> +“Brush?” +</p> + +<p> +“The Bliss butler.… So I merely pushed the door open and entered the +hallway. The steel entrance door to the museum, which is on the right +of the hallway, is rarely locked, and I opened it. Just as I started +to descend the stairs into the museum I saw some one lying in the +opposite corner of the room. At first I thought it might be one of the +mummy cases we’d unpacked yesterday—the light wasn’t very good—and +then, as my eyes got adjusted, I realized it was Kyle. He was crumpled +up, with his arms extended over his head.… Even then I thought he had +only fallen in a faint; and I started down the steps toward him.” +</p> + +<p> +He paused and passed his handkerchief—which he drew from his +cuff—across his shining head. +</p> + +<p> +“By Jove, Vance!—it was a hideous sight. He’d been hit over the head +with one of the new statues we placed in the museum yesterday, and his +skull had been crushed in like an egg-shell. The statue still lay +across his head.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you touch anything?” +</p> + +<p> +“Good heavens, no!” Scarlett spoke with the emphasis of horror. “I was +too ill—the thing was ghastly. And it didn’t take half an eye to see +that the poor beggar was dead.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance studied the man closely. +</p> + +<p> +“I say, what was the first thing you did?” +</p> + +<p> +“I called out for Doctor Bliss—he has his study at the top of the +little spiral stairs at the rear of the museum.…” +</p> + +<p> +“And got no answer?” +</p> + +<p> +“No—no answer.… Then—I admit—I got frightened. Didn’t like the idea +of being found alone with a murdered man, and toddled back toward the +front door. Had a notion I’d sneak out and not say I’d been there.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” Vance leaned forward and carefully selected another cigarette. +“And then, when you were again in the street, you fell to worryin’.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s it precisely! It didn’t seem cricket to leave the poor devil +there—and still I didn’t want to become involved.… I was now walking +up Fourth Avenue threshing the thing out with myself and bumping +against people without seeing ’em. And I happened to think of you. I +knew you were acquainted with Doctor Bliss and the outfit, and could +give me good advice. And another thing, I felt a little strange in a +new country—I wasn’t just sure how to go about reporting the matter.… +So I hurried along to your flat here.” He stopped abruptly and watched +Vance eagerly. “What’s the procedure?” +</p> + +<p> +Vance stretched his long legs before him and lazily contemplated the +end of his cigarette. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll take over the procedure,” he replied at length. “It’s not so +dashed complicated, and it varies according to circumstances. One may +call the police station, or stick one’s head out of the window and +scream, or confide in a traffic officer, or simply ignore the corpse +and wait for some one else to stumble on it. It amounts to the same +thing in the end—the murderer is almost sure to get safely away.… +However, in the present case I’ll vary the system a bit by telephoning +to the Criminal Courts Building.” +</p> + +<p> +He turned to the mother-of-pearl French telephone on the Venetian +tabouret at his side, and asked for a number. A few moments later he +was speaking to the District Attorney. +</p> + +<p> +“Greetings, Markham old dear. Beastly weather, what?” His voice was +too indolent to be entirely convincing. “By the by, Benjamin H. Kyle +has passed to his Maker by foul means. He’s at present lying on the +floor of the Bliss Museum with a badly fractured skull.… Oh, +yes—quite dead, I understand. Are you interested, by any chance? +Thought I’d be unfriendly and notify you.… Sad—sad.… I’m about to +make a few observations <i>in situ criminis</i>.… Tut, tut! This is no time +for reproaches. Don’t be so deuced serious.… Really, I think you’d +better come along.… Right-o! I’ll await you here.” +</p> + +<p> +He replaced the receiver on the bracket and again settled back in his +chair. +</p> + +<p> +“The District Attorney will be along anon,” he announced, “and we’ll +probably have time for a few observations before the police arrive.” +</p> + +<p> +His eyes shifted dreamily to Scarlett. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes… as you say… I’m acquainted with the Bliss outfit. Fascinatin’ +possibilities in the affair: it may prove most entertainin’.…” (I knew +by his expression that his mind was contemplating—not without a +certain degree of anticipatory interest—a new criminal problem.) “So, +the front door was ajar, eh? And when you called out no one answered?” +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett nodded but made no audible reply. He was obviously puzzled by +Vance’s casual reception of his appalling recital. +</p> + +<p> +“Where were the servants? Couldn’t they have heard you call?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not likely. They’re in the other side of the house—down-stairs. The +only person who could have heard me was Doctor Bliss—provided he’d +been in his study.” +</p> + +<p> +“You could have rung the front door-bell, or summoned some one from +the main hall,” Vance suggested. +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett shifted in his chair uneasily. +</p> + +<p> +“Quite true,” he admitted. “But—dash it all, old man!—I was in a +funk.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes—of course. Most natural. <i>Prima-facie</i> evidence and all +that. Very suspicious, eh what? Still, you had no reason for wanting +the old codger out of the way, had you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, my God, no!” Scarlett went pale. “He footed the bills. Without +his support the Bliss excavations and the museum itself would go by +the board.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance nodded. +</p> + +<p> +“Bliss told me of the situation when I was in Egypt.… Didn’t Kyle own +the property in which the museum is situated?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—both houses. You see, there are two of ’em. Bliss and his family +and young Salveter—Kyle’s nephew—live in one, and the museum +occupies the other. Two doors have been cut through, and the +museum-house entrance has been bricked up. So it’s practically one +establishment.” +</p> + +<p> +“And where did Kyle live?” +</p> + +<p> +“In the brownstone house next to the museum. He owned a block of six +or seven adjoining houses along the street.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance rose and walked meditatively to the window. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know how Kyle became interested in Egyptology? It was rather +out of his line. His weakness was for hospitals and those unspeakable +English portraits of the Gainsborough school. He was one of the +bidders for the <i>Blue Boy</i>. Luckily for him, he didn’t get it.” +</p> + +<p> +“It was young Salveter who wangled his uncle into financing Bliss. The +lad was a pupil of Bliss’s when the latter was instructor of +Egyptology at Harvard. When he was graduated he was at a loose end, +and old Kyle financed the expedition to give the lad something to do. +Very fond of his nephew, was old Kyle.” +</p> + +<p> +“And Salveter’s been with Bliss ever since?” +</p> + +<p> +“Very much so. To the extent of living in the same house with him. +Hasn’t left his side since their first visit to Egypt three years ago. +Bliss made him Assistant Curator of the Museum. He deserved the post, +too. A bright boy—lives and eats Egyptology.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance returned to the table and rang for Currie. +</p> + +<p> +“The situation has possibilities,” he remarked, in his habitual +drawl.… “By the by, what other members of the Bliss ménage are +there?” +</p> + +<p> +“There’s Mrs. Bliss—you met her in Cairo—a strange girl, half +Egyptian, much younger than Bliss. And then there’s Hani, an Egyptian, +whom Bliss brought back with him—or, rather, whom <i>Mrs.</i> Bliss +brought back with <i>her</i>. Hani was an old dependent of Meryt’s +father.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Meryt?” +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett blinked and looked ill at ease. +</p> + +<p> +“I meant Mrs. Bliss,” he explained. “Her given name is Meryt-Amen. In +Egypt, you see, it’s customary to think of a lady by her native name.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, quite.” A slight smile flickered at the corner of Vance’s mouth. +“And what position does this Hani occupy in the household?” +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett pursed his lips. +</p> + +<p> +“A somewhat anomalous one, if you ask me. Fellahîn stock—a Coptic +Christian of sorts. He accompanied old Abercrombie—Meryt’s father—on +his various tours of exploration. When Abercrombie died, he acted as a +kind of foster-father to Meryt. He was attached to the Bliss +expedition this spring in some minor capacity as a representative of +the Egyptian Government. He’s a sort of high-class handy-man about the +museum. Knows a lot of Egyptology, too.” +</p> + +<p> +“Does he hold any official post with the Egyptian Government now?” +</p> + +<p> +“That I don’t know… though I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s doing a bit +of patriotic spying. You never can tell about these chaps.” +</p> + +<p> +“And do these persons complete the household?” +</p> + +<p> +“There are two American servants—Brush, the butler, and Dingle, the +cook.” +</p> + +<p> +Currie entered the room at this moment. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I say, Currie,” Vance addressed him; “an eminent gentleman has +just been murdered in the neighborhood, and I am going to view the +body. Lay out a dark gray suit and my Bangkok. A sombre tie, of +course.… And, Currie—the Amontillado first.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +Currie received the news as if murders were everyday events in his +life, and went out. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know any reason, Scarlett,” Vance asked, “why Kyle should have +been put out of the way?” +</p> + +<p> +The other hesitated almost imperceptibly. +</p> + +<p> +“Can’t imagine,” he said, knitting his brows. “He was a kindly, +generous old fellow—pompous and rather vain, but eminently likable. +I’m not acquainted with his private life, though. He may have had +enemies.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Still,” suggested Vance, “it’s not exactly likely that an enemy would +have followed him to the museum and wreaked vengeance on him in a +strange place, when any one might have walked in.” +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett sat up abruptly. +</p> + +<p> +“But you’re not implying that any one in the house——” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear fellow!” +</p> + +<p> +Currie entered the room at this moment with the sherry, and Vance +poured out three glasses. When we had drunk the wine he excused +himself to dress. Scarlett paced up and down restlessly during the +quarter of an hour Vance was absent. He had discarded his cigarette +and lighted an old briar pipe which had a most atrocious smell. +</p> + +<p> +Almost at the moment when Vance returned to the library an automobile +horn sounded raucously outside. Markham was below waiting for us. +</p> + +<p> +As we walked toward the door Vance asked Scarlett: +</p> + +<p> +“Was it custom’ry for Kyle to be in the museum at this hour of the +morning?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, most unusual. But Doctor Bliss had made an appointment with him +for this morning, to discuss the expenditures of the last expedition +and the possibilities of continuing the excavations next season.” +</p> + +<p> +“You knew of this appointment?” Vance asked indifferently. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes. Doctor Bliss called him by phone last night during the +conference, when we were assembling the report.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, well.” Vance passed out into the hall. “So there were others +who also knew that Kyle would be at the museum this morning.” +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett halted and looked startled. +</p> + +<p> +“Really, you’re not intimating——” he began. +</p> + +<p> +“Who heard the appointment made?” Vance was already descending the +stairs. +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett followed him with puzzled, downcast eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, let me see.… There was Salveter, and Hani, and…” +</p> + +<p> +“Pray, don’t hesitate.” +</p> + +<p> +“And Mrs. Bliss.” +</p> + +<p> +“Every one in the household, then, but Brush and Dingle?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.… But see here, Vance; the appointment was for eleven o’clock; +and the poor old duffer was done in before half past ten.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s most inveiglin’,” Vance murmured. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch02"> +CHAPTER II.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">THE VENGEANCE OF SAKHMET</span> +</h3> + +<p class="center"> +(<i>Friday, July 13; 11.30 a.m.</i>) +</p> + +<p> +Markham greeted Vance with a look of sour reproach. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s the meaning of this?” he demanded tartly. “I was in the midst +of an important committee meeting——” +</p> + +<p> +“The meaning is still to be ascertained,” Vance interrupted lightly, +stepping into the car. “The cause of your ungracious presence, +however, is a most fascinatin’ murder.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham shot him a shrewd look, and gave orders to the chauffeur to +drive with all possible haste to the Bliss Museum. He recognized the +symptoms of Vance’s perturbation: a frivolous outward attitude on +Vance’s part was always indicative of an inner seriousness. +</p> + +<p> +Markham and he had been friends for fifteen years, and Vance had aided +him in many of his investigations. In fact, he had come to depend on +Vance’s assistance in the more complicated criminal cases that came +under his jurisdiction.<sup><a href="#n03b" id="n03a">[3]</a></sup> +</p> + +<p> +It would be difficult to find two men so diametrically opposed to each +other temperamentally. Markham was stern, aggressive, straightforward, +grave, and a trifle ponderous. Vance was debonair, whimsical, and +superficially cynical—an amateur of the arts, and with only an +impersonal concern in serious social and moral problems. But this very +disparateness in their natures seemed to bind them together. +</p> + +<p> +On our way to the museum, a few blocks distant, Scarlett recounted +briefly to the District Attorney the details of his macabre discovery. +</p> + +<p> +Markham listened attentively. Then he turned to Vance. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course, it may be just an act of thuggery—some one from the +street.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, my aunt!” Vance sighed and shook his head lugubriously. “Really, +y’ know, thugs don’t enter conspicuous private houses in broad +daylight and rap persons over the head with statues. They at least +bring their own weapons and choose <i>mises-en-scène</i> which offer some +degree of safety.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, anyway,” Markham grumbled, “I’ve notified Sergeant Heath.<sup><a href="#n04b" id="n04a">[4]</a></sup> +He’ll be along presently.” +</p> + +<p> +At the corner of Twentieth Street and Fourth Avenue he halted the car. +A uniformed patrolman stood before a call-box, who, on recognizing the +District Attorney, came to attention and saluted. +</p> + +<p> +“Hop in the front seat, officer,” Markham ordered. “We may need you.” +</p> + +<p> +When we reached the museum Markham stationed the officer at the foot +of the steps leading to the double front door; and we at once ascended +to the vestibule. +</p> + +<p> +I made a casual mental note of the two houses, which Scarlett had +already briefly described to us. Each had a twenty-five-foot frontage, +and was constructed of large flat blocks of brownstone. The house on +the right had no entrance—it had obviously been walled up. Nor were +there any windows on the areaway level. The house on the left, +however, had not been altered. It was three stories high; and a broad +flight of stone stairs, with high stone banisters, led to the first +floor. The “basement,” as was usual in such structures, was a little +below the street level. The two houses had at one time been exactly +alike, and now, with the alterations and the one entrance, gave the +impression of being a single establishment. +</p> + +<p> +As we entered the shallow vestibule—a characteristic of all the old +brownstone mansions along the street—I noticed that the heavy oak +entrance door, which Scarlett had said was ajar earlier in the +morning, was now closed. Vance, too, remarked the fact, for he at once +turned to Scarlett and asked: +</p> + +<p> +“Did you close the door when you left the house?” +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett looked seriously at the massive panels, as if trying to +recall his actions. +</p> + +<p> +“Really, old man, I can’t remember,” he answered. “I was devilishly +upset. I may have shut the door.…” +</p> + +<p> +Vance tried the knob, and the door opened. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, well. The latch has been set anyway. Very careless on some +one’s part.… Is that usual?” +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett looked astonished. +</p> + +<p> +“Never knew it to be unlatched.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance held up his hand, indicating that we were to remain in the +vestibule, and stepped quietly inside to the steel door on the right +leading into the museum. We could see him open it gingerly but could +not distinguish what was beyond. He disappeared for a moment. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Kyle’s quite dead,” he announced sombrely on his return. “And +apparently no one has discovered him yet.” He cautiously reclosed the +front door. “We sha’n’t take advantage of the latch being set,” he +added. “We’ll abide by the conventions and see who answers.” Then he +pressed the bell-button. +</p> + +<p> +A few moments later the door was opened by a cadaverous, chlorotic man +in butler’s livery. He bowed perfunctorily to Scarlett, and coldly +inspected the rest of us. +</p> + +<p> +“Brush, I believe.” It was Vance who spoke. +</p> + +<p> +The man bowed slightly without taking his eyes off of us. +</p> + +<p> +“Is Doctor Bliss in?” Vance asked. +</p> + +<p> +Brush shifted his gaze interrogatively to Scarlett. Receiving an +assuring nod, he opened the door a little wider. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir,” he answered. “He’s in his study. Who shall I say is +calling?” +</p> + +<p> +“You needn’t disturb him, Brush.” Vance stepped into the entrance +hall, and we followed him. “Has the doctor been in his study all +morning?” +</p> + +<p> +The butler drew himself up and attempted to reprove Vance with a look +of haughty indignation. +</p> + +<p> +Vance smiled, not unkindly. +</p> + +<p> +“Your manner is quite correct, Brush. But we’re not wanting lessons in +etiquette. This is Mr. Markham, the District Attorney of New York; and +we’re here for information. Do you care to give it voluntarily?” +</p> + +<p> +The man had caught sight of the uniformed officer at the foot of the +stone steps, and his face paled. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll be doing the doctor a favor by answering,” Scarlett put in. +</p> + +<p> +“Doctor Bliss has been in his study since nine o’clock,” the butler +replied, in a tone of injured dignity. +</p> + +<p> +“How can you be sure of that fact?” Vance asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I brought him his breakfast there; and I’ve been on this floor ever +since.” +</p> + +<p> +“Doctor Bliss’s study,” interjected Scarlett, “is at the rear of this +hall.” He pointed to a curtained door at the end of the wide corridor. +</p> + +<p> +“He should be able to hear us now,” remarked Markham. +</p> + +<p> +“No, the door is padded,” Scarlett explained. “The study is his +<i>sanctum sanctorum</i>; and no sounds can reach him from the house.” +</p> + +<p> +The butler, his eyes like two glittering pin-points, had started to +move away. +</p> + +<p> +“Just a moment, Brush.” Vance’s voice halted him. “Who else is in the +house at this time?” +</p> + +<p> +The man turned, and when he answered it seemed to me that his voice +quavered slightly. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Hani is up-stairs. He has been indisposed——” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, has he, now?” Vance took out his cigarette-case. “And the other +members of the household?” +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Bliss went out about nine—to do some shopping, so I understood +her to say.—Mr. Salveter left the house shortly afterward.” +</p> + +<p> +“And Dingle?” +</p> + +<p> +“She’s in the kitchen below, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance studied the butler appraisingly. +</p> + +<p> +“You need a tonic, Brush. A combination of iron, arsenic and +strychnine would build you up.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir. I’ve been thinking of consulting a doctor.… It’s lack of +fresh air, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“Just so.” Vance had selected one of his beloved <i>Régies</i>, and was +lighting it with meticulous care. “By the by, Brush; what about Mr. +Kyle? He called here this morning, I understand.” +</p> + +<p> +“He’s in the museum now.… I’d forgotten, sir. Doctor Bliss may be with +him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed! And what time did Mr. Kyle arrive?” +</p> + +<p> +“About ten o’clock.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you admit him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“And did you notify Doctor Bliss of his arrival?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir. Mr. Kyle told me not to disturb the doctor. He explained +that he was early for his appointment, and wished to look over some +curios in the museum for an hour or so. He said he’d knock on the +doctor’s study door later.” +</p> + +<p> +“And he went direct into the museum?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir—in fact, I opened the door for him.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance drew luxuriously on his cigarette for a moment. +</p> + +<p> +“One more thing, Brush. I note that the latch on the front door has +been set, so that any one from the outside could enter the house +without ringing.…” +</p> + +<p> +The man gave a slight start and, going quickly to the door, bent over +and inspected the lock. +</p> + +<p> +“So it is, sir.… Very strange.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance watched him closely. +</p> + +<p> +“Why strange?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, sir, it wasn’t unlatched when Mr. Kyle came at ten o’clock. I +looked at it specially when I let him in. He said he wished to be left +alone in the museum, and as members of the house sometimes leave the +door on the latch when they go out for a short time, I made sure that +no one had done so this morning. Otherwise they might have come in and +disturbed Mr. Kyle without my warning them.” +</p> + +<p> +“But, Brush,” interjected Scarlett excitedly; “when I got here at half +past ten the door was open——” +</p> + +<p> +Vance made an admonitory gesture. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s all right, Scarlett.” Then he turned back to the butler. +“Where did you go after admitting Mr. Kyle?” +</p> + +<p> +“Into the drawing-room.” The man pointed to a large sliding door +half-way down the hall on the left, at the foot of the stairs. +</p> + +<p> +“And remained there till when?” +</p> + +<p> +“Till ten minutes ago.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you hear Mr. Scarlett come in and go out of the front door?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir.… But then, I was using the vacuum cleaner. The noise of the +motor——” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite so. But if the vacuum cleaner’s motor was hummin’, how do you +know that Doctor Bliss did not leave his study?” +</p> + +<p> +“The drawing-room door was open, sir. I’d have seen him if he came +out.” +</p> + +<p> +“But he might have gone into the museum and left the house by the +front door without your hearing him. Y’ know, you didn’t hear Mr. +Scarlett enter.” +</p> + +<p> +“That would have been out of the question, sir. Doctor Bliss wore only +a light dressing-gown over his pyjamas. His clothes are all +up-stairs.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very good, Brush.… And now, one more question. Has the front +door-bell rung since Mr. Kyle’s arrival?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“Maybe it rang and Dingle answered it.… That motor hum, don’t y’ +know.” +</p> + +<p> +“She would have come up and told me, sir. She never answers the door +in the morning. She’s not in presentable habiliments till afternoon.” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite characteristically feminine,” Vance murmured.… “That will be +all for the present, Brush. You may go down-stairs and wait for our +call. An accident has happened to Mr. Kyle, and we are going to look +into it. You are to say nothing… understand?” His voice had suddenly +become stern and ominous. +</p> + +<p> +Brush drew himself up with a quick intake of breath: he appeared +positively ill, and I almost expected him to faint. His face was like +chalk. +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly, sir—I understand.” His words were articulated with great +effort. Then he walked away unsteadily and disappeared down the rear +stairs to the left of Doctor Bliss’s study door. +</p> + +<p> +Vance spoke in a low voice to Markham, who immediately beckoned to the +officer in the street below. +</p> + +<p> +“You are to stand in the vestibule here,” he ordered. “When Sergeant +Heath and his men come, bring them to us at once. We’ll be in there.” +He indicated the large steel door leading into the museum. “If any one +else calls, hold them and notify us. Don’t let any one ring the bell.” +</p> + +<p> +The officer saluted and took up his post; and the rest of us, with +Vance leading the way, passed through the steel door into the museum. +</p> + +<p> +A flight of carpeted stairs, four feet wide, led down along the wall +to the floor of the enormous room beyond, which was on the street +level. The first-story floor—the one which had been even with the +hallway of the house we had just quitted—had been removed so that the +room of the museum was two stories high. Two huge pillars, with steel +beams and diagonal joists, had been erected as supports. Moreover, the +walls marking the former rooms had been demolished. The result was +that the room we had entered occupied the entire width and length of +the house—about twenty-five by seventy feet—and had a ceiling almost +twenty feet high. +</p> + +<p> +At the front was a series of tall, leaded-glass windows running across +the entire width of the building; and at the rear, above a series of +oak cabinets, a similar row of windows had been cut. The curtains of +the front windows were drawn, but those at the rear were open. The sun +had not yet found its way into the room, and the light was dingy. +</p> + +<p> +As we stood for a moment at the head of the steps I noted a small +circular iron stairway at the rear leading to a small steel door on +the same level as the door through which we had entered. +</p> + +<p> +The arrangement of the museum in relation to the house which served as +living quarters for the Blisses, was to prove of considerable +importance in Vance’s solution of Benjamin H. Kyle’s murder, and for +purposes of clarity I am including in this record a plan of the two +houses. The floor of the museum, as I have said, was on the street +level—it had formerly been the “basement” floor. And it must be borne +in mind that the rooms indicated on the left-hand half of the plan +were one story above the museum floor and half-way between the museum +floor and the ceiling. +</p> + +<p> +My eyes at once searched the opposite corner of the room for the +murdered man; but that part of the museum was in shadow, and all I +could see was a dark mass, like a recumbent human body, in front of +the farthest rear cabinet. +</p> + +<p> +Vance and Markham had descended the stairs while Scarlett and I waited +on the upper landing. Vance went straightway to the front of the +museum and pulled the draw-cords of the curtains. Light flooded the +semi-darkness; and for the first time I took in the beautiful and +amazing contents of that great room. +</p> + +<p> +In the centre of the opposite wall rose a ten-foot obelisk from +Heliopolis, commemorating an expedition of Queen Hat-shepsut of the +Eighteenth Dynasty, and bearing her cartouche. To the right and left +of the obelisk stood two plaster-cast portrait statues—one of Queen +Teti-shiret of the Seventeenth Dynasty, and the other a black replica +of the famous Turin statue of Ramses II—considered one of the finest +pieces of sculptured portraiture in antiquity. +</p> + +<figure> +<a href="images/img_026.jpg"><img alt="img_026.jpg" src="images/img_026_th.jpg"></a> +<figcaption> +Plan of Room +</figcaption> +</figure> + +<p> +Above and beside them hung several papyri, framed and under glass, +their faded burnt-orange backgrounds—punctuated with red, yellow, +green and white patches—making splashes of attractive color against +the dingy gray plaster of the wall. Four large limestone bas-reliefs, +taken from a Nineteenth-Dynasty tomb at Memphis and containing +passages from the Book of the Dead, were aligned above the papyri. +</p> + +<p> +Beneath the front windows stood a black granite Twenty-second-Dynasty +sarcophagus fully ten feet long, its front and sides covered with +hieroglyphic inscriptions. It was surmounted by a mummy-shaped lid, +showing the soul bird, or Ba—with its falcon’s form and human head. +This sarcophagus was one of the rarest in America, and had been +brought to this country by Doctor Bliss from the ancient necropolis at +Thebes. In the corner beyond was a cedar-wood statue of an Asiatic, +found in Palestine—a relic of the conquests of Thut-mosè III. +</p> + +<p> +Near the foot of the stairs on which I stood loomed the majestic +Kha-ef-Rê statue from the Fourth Dynasty. It was made of gray plaster +of Paris, varnished and polished in imitation of the original diorite. +It stood nearly eight feet high; and its dignity and power and +magistral calm seemed to dominate the entire museum.<sup><a href="#n05b" id="n05a">[5]</a></sup> +</p> + +<p> +To the right of the statue, and extending all the way to the spiral +stairs at the rear, was a row of anthropoid mummy cases, gaudily +decorated in gold and brilliant colors. Above them hung two enormously +enlarged tinted photographs—one showing the Colossi of Amen-hotpe +III,<sup><a href="#n06b" id="n06a">[6]</a></sup> the other depicting the great Amûn Temple at Karnak. +</p> + +<p> +Around the two supporting columns in the centre of the museum deep +shelves had been built, and on them reposed a fascinating array of +<i>shawabtis</i>—beautifully carved and gaily painted wooden figures. +</p> + +<p> +Extending between the two pillars was a long, low, velvet-covered +table, perhaps fourteen feet in length, bearing a beautiful collection +of alabaster perfumery and canopic vases, blue lotiform jars, kohl +pots of polished obsidian, and several cylindrical carved cosmetic +jars of semi-translucent and opaque alabaster. At the rear of the room +was a squat coffer with inlays of blue glazed faience, white and red +ivory and black ebony; and beside it stood a carved chair of state, +decorated in gesso and gilt, and bearing a design of lotus flowers and +buds. +</p> + +<p> +Across the front of the room ran a long glass show-case containing +pectoral collars of cloisonné, amulets in majolica, shell pendants, +girdles of gold cowries, rhombic beads of carnelian and feldspar, +bracelets and anklets and finger-rings, gold and ebony fans, and a +collection of scarabs of most of the Pharaohs down to Ptolemaic times. +</p> + +<p> +Around the walls, just below the ceiling, ran a five-foot frieze—a +sectional copy of the famous Rhapsody of Pen-ta-Weret, commemorating +the victory of Ramses II over the Hittites at Kadesh in Syria. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as Vance had opened the heavy curtains of the front windows he +and Markham moved toward the rear of the room. Scarlett and I +descended the stairs and followed them. Kyle was lying on his face, +his legs slightly drawn up under him, and his arms reaching out and +encircling the feet of a life-sized statue in the corner. I had seen +reproductions of this statue many times, but I did not know its name. +</p> + +<p> +It was Vance who enlightened me. He stood contemplating the huddled +body of the dead man, and slowly his eyes shifted to the serene +sculpture—a brown limestone carving of a man with a jackal’s head, +holding a sceptre. +</p> + +<p> +“Anûbis,” he murmured, his face set tensely. “The Egyptian god of the +underworld. Y’ know, Markham, Anûbis was the god who prowled about +the tombs of the dead. He guided the dead through Amentet—the shadowy +abode of Osiris. He plays an important part in the Book of the +Dead—he symbolized the grave; and he weighed the souls of men, and +assigned each to its abode. Without Anûbis’s help the soul would +never have found the Realm of Shades. He was the only friend of the +dying and the dead.… And here is Kyle, in an attitude of final and +pious entreaty before him.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance’s eyes rested for a moment on the benignant features of Anûbis. +Then his gaze moved dreamily to the prostrate man who, but for the +hideous wound in his head, might have been paying humble obeisance to +the underworld god. He pointed to the smaller statue which had caused +Kyle’s death. +</p> + +<p> +This statue was about two feet long and was black and shiny. It still +lay diagonally across the back of the murdered man’s skull: it seemed +to have been caught and held there in the concavity made by the blow. +An irregular pool of dark blood had formed beside the head, and I +noted—without giving the matter any particular thought—that one +point of the periphery of the pool had been smeared outward over the +polished maple-wood floor. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t like this, Markham,” Vance was saying in a low voice. “I +don’t like it at all.… That diorite statue, which killed Kyle, is +Sakhmet, the Egyptian goddess of vengeance—the destroying element. +She was the goddess who protected the good and annihilated the +wicked—the goddess who slew. The Egyptians believed in her violent +power; and there are many strange legend’ry tales of her dark and +terrible acts of revenge.…” +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch03"> +CHAPTER III.<br> +<span class="chap_sub"><i>SCARABÆUS SACER</i></span> +</h3> + +<p class="center"> +(<i>Friday, July 13; noon</i>) +</p> + +<p> +Vance frowned slightly and studied the small black figure for a +moment. +</p> + +<p> +“It may mean nothing—surely nothing supernatural—but the fact that +this particular statue was chosen for the murder makes me wonder if +there may be something diabolical and sinister and superstitious in +this affair.” +</p> + +<p> +“Come, come, Vance!” Markham spoke with forced matter-of-factness. +“This is modern New York, not legendary Egypt.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes… oh, yes. But superstition is still a ruling factor in so-called +human nature. Moreover, there are many more convenient weapons in this +room—weapons fully as lethal and more readily wielded. Why should a +cumbersome, heavy statue of Sakhmet have been chosen for the deed? … In +any event, it took a strong man to swing it with such force.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked toward Scarlett, whose eyes had been fastened on the dead +man with a stare of fascination. +</p> + +<p> +“Where was this statue kept?” +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett blinked. +</p> + +<p> +“Why—let me see.…” He was obviously trying to collect his wits. “Ah, +yes. On the top of that cabinet.” He pointed unsteadily to the row of +wide shelves in front of Kyle’s body. “It was one of the new pieces we +unpacked yesterday. Hani placed it there. You see, we used that end +cabinet temporarily for the new items, until we could arrange and +catalogue ’em properly.” +</p> + +<p> +There were ten sections in the row of cabinets that extended across +the rear of the museum, each one being about two and a half feet wide +and a little over seven feet high. These cabinets—which in reality +were but open shelves—were filled with all manner of curios: scores +of examples of pottery and wooden vases, scent bottles, bows and +arrows, adzes, swords, daggers, sistra, bronze and copper +hand-mirrors, ivory game boards, perfume boxes, whip handles, +palm-leaf sandals, wooden combs, palettes, head rests, reed baskets, +carved spoons, plasterers’ tools, sacrificial flint knives, funerary +masks, statuettes, necklaces, and the like. +</p> + +<p> +Each cabinet had a separate curtain of a material which looked like +silk rep, suspended with brass rings on a small metal rod. The +curtains to all the cabinets were drawn open, with the exception of +the one on the end cabinet before which the dead body of Kyle lay. The +curtain of this cabinet was only partly drawn. +</p> + +<p> +Vance had turned round. +</p> + +<p> +“And what about the Anûbis, Scarlett?” he asked. “Was it a recent +acquisition?” +</p> + +<p> +“That came yesterday, too. It was placed in that corner—to keep the +shipment together.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance nodded, and walked to the partly curtained cabinet. He stood for +several moments peering into the shelves. +</p> + +<p> +“Very interestin’,” he murmured, almost as if to himself. “I see you +have a most unusual post-Hyksos bearded sphinx.… And that blue-glass +vessel is very lovely… though not so lovely as yon blue-paste +lion’s-head.… Ah! I note many evidences of old Intef’s bellicose +nature—that battle-ax, for instance.… And—my word!—there are some +scimitars and daggers which look positively Asiatic. And”—he peered +closely into the top shelf—“a most fascinatin’ collection of +ceremonial maces.” +</p> + +<p> +“Things Doctor Bliss picked up on his recent expedition,” explained +Scarlett. “Those flint and porphyry maces came from the antechamber of +Intef’s tomb.…” +</p> + +<p> +At this moment the great metal door of the museum creaked on its +hinges, and Sergeant Ernest Heath and three detectives appeared at the +head of the stairs. The Sergeant immediately descended into the room, +leaving his men on the little landing. +</p> + +<p> +He greeted Markham with the usual ritualistic handshake. +</p> + +<p> +“Howdy, sir,” he rumbled. “I got here as soon as I could. Brought +three of the boys from the Bureau, and sent word to Captain Dubois and +Doc Doremus<sup><a href="#n07b" id="n07a">[7]</a></sup> to follow us up.” +</p> + +<p> +“It looks as if we might be in for another unpleasant scandal, +Sergeant.” Markham’s tone was pessimistic. “That’s Benjamin H. Kyle.” +</p> + +<p> +Heath stared aggressively at the dead man and grunted. +</p> + +<p> +“A nasty job,” he commented through his teeth. “What in hell is that +thing he was croaked with?” +</p> + +<p> +Vance, who had been leaning over the shelves of the cabinet, his back +to us, now turned round with a genial smile. +</p> + +<p> +“That, Sergeant, is Sakhmet, an ancient goddess of the primitive +Egyptians. But she isn’t in hell, so to speak. This gentleman, +however,”—he touched the tall statue of Anûbis—“is from the nether +regions.” +</p> + +<p> +“I mighta known you’d be here, Mr. Vance.” Heath grinned with genuine +friendliness, and held out his hand. “I’ve got you down on my suspect +list. Every time there’s a fancy homicide, who do I find on the spot +but Mr. Philo Vance! … Glad to see you, Mr. Vance. I reckon you’ll get +your psychological processes to working now and clean this mystery up +<i>pronto</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’ll take more than psychology to solve this case, I’m afraid.” +Vance had grasped the Sergeant’s hand cordially. “A smatterin’ of +Egyptology might help, don’t y’ know.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll leave that nifty stuff to you, Mr. Vance. What I want, first and +foremost, is the finger-prints on that—that——” He bent over the +small statue of Sakhmet. “That’s the damnedest thing I ever saw. The +guy who sculped that was cuckoo. It’s got a lion’s head with a big +platter on the dome.” +</p> + +<p> +“The lion’s head of Sakhmet is undoubtedly totemistic, Sergeant,” +explained Vance, good-naturedly. “And that ‘platter’ is a +representation of the solar disk. The snake peering from the forehead +is a cobra—or uræus—and was the sign of royalty.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have it your own way, sir.” The Sergeant had become impatient. “What +I want is the finger-prints.” +</p> + +<p> +He swung about and walked toward the front of the museum. +</p> + +<p> +“Hey, Snitkin!” he called belligerently to one of the men on the stair +landing. “Relieve that officer outside—send him back to his beat. And +bring Dubois in here as soon as he shows up.” Then he returned to +Markham. “Who’ll give me the low-down on this, sir?” +</p> + +<p> +Markham introduced him to Scarlett. +</p> + +<p> +“This gentleman,” he said, “found Mr. Kyle. He can tell you all we +know of the case thus far.” +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett and Heath talked together for five minutes or so, the +Sergeant maintaining throughout the conversation an attitude of +undisguised suspicion. It was a basic principle with him that every +one was guilty until his innocence had been completely and irrefutably +established. +</p> + +<p> +Vance in the meantime had been bending over Kyle’s body with an +intentness that puzzled me. Presently his eyes narrowed slightly and +he went down on one knee, thrusting his head forward to within a foot +of the floor. Then he took out his monocle, polished it carefully, and +adjusted it. Markham and I both watched him in silence. After a few +moments he straightened up. +</p> + +<p> +“I say, Scarlett; is there a magnifyin’ glass handy?” +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett, who had just finished talking to Sergeant Heath, went at +once to the glass case containing the scarabs and opened one of the +drawers. +</p> + +<p> +“What sort of museum would this be without a magnifier?” he asked, +with a feeble attempt at jocularity, holding out a Coddington lens. +</p> + +<p> +Vance took it and turned to Heath. +</p> + +<p> +“May I borrow your flash-light, Sergeant?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure thing!” Heath handed him a push-button flash. +</p> + +<p> +Vance again knelt down, and with the flash-light in one hand and the +lens in the other, inspected a tiny oblong object that lay about a +foot from Kyle’s body. +</p> + +<figure> +<img alt="img_036.jpg" src="images/img_036.jpg"> +<figcaption> +SCARAB OF INTEF V +</figcaption> +</figure> + +<p> +“<i>Nisut Biti… Intef… Si Rê… Nub-Kheper-Rê.</i>” His voice was low and +resonant. +</p> + +<p> +The Sergeant put his hands in his pockets and sniffed. +</p> + +<p> +“And what language might that be, Mr. Vance?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s the transliteration of a few ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs. I’m +reading from this scarab.…” +</p> + +<p> +The Sergeant had become interested. He stepped forward and leaned over +the object that Vance was inspecting. +</p> + +<p> +“A scarab, huh?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Sergeant. Sometimes called a scarabee, or scarabæid, or +scarabæus—that is to say, beetle.… This little oval bit of +lapis-lazuli was a sacred symbol of the old Egyptians.… This +particular one, by the by, is most fascinatin’. It is the state seal +of Intef V—a Pharaoh of the Seventeenth Dynasty. About 1650 B.C.—or +over 3,500 years ago—he wore it. It bears the title and throne name +of Intef-o, or Intef. His Horus name was Nefer-Kheperu, if I remember +correctly. He was one of the native Egyptian rulers at Thebes during +the reign of the Hyksos in the Delta.<sup><a href="#n08b" id="n08a">[8]</a></sup> The tomb of this gentleman +is the one that Doctor Bliss has been excavating for several years.… +And you of course note, Sergeant, that the scarab is set in a modern +scarf-pin.…” +</p> + +<p> +Heath grunted with satisfaction. Here, at least, was a piece of +tangible evidence. +</p> + +<p> +“A beetle, is it? And a scarf-pin! … Well, Mr. Vance, I’d like to get +my hands on the bird who wore that blue thingumajig in his cravat.” +</p> + +<p> +“I can enlighten you on that point, Sergeant.” Vance rose to his feet +and looked toward the little metal door at the head of the circular +stairway. “That scarf-pin is the property of Doctor Bliss.” +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch04"> +CHAPTER IV.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">TRACKS IN THE BLOOD</span> +</h3> + +<p class="center"> +(<i>Friday, July 13; 12.15 p.m.</i>) +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett had been watching Vance intently, a look of horrified +amazement on his round bronzed face. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m afraid you’re right, Vance,” he said, nodding with reluctance. +“Doctor Bliss found that scarab on the site of the excavation of +Intef’s tomb two years ago. He didn’t mention it to the Egyptian +authorities; and when he returned to America he had it set in a +scarf-pin. But surely its presence here can have no significance.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Really, now!” Vance faced Scarlett with a steady gaze. “I remember +quite well the episode at Dirâ Abu ’n-Nega. I was <i>particeps +criminis</i>, as it were, to the theft. But since there were other +scarabs of Intef, as well as a cylindrical seal, in the British +Museum, I turned my eyes the other way.… This is the first time I’ve +had a close look at the scarab.…” +</p> + +<p> +Heath had started toward the front stairs. +</p> + +<p> +“Say, you—Emery!” he bawled, addressing one of the two men on the +landing. “Round up this guy Bliss, and bring ’im in here——” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I say, Sergeant!” Vance hastened after him and put a restraining +hand on his arm. “Why so precipitate? Let’s be calm.… This isn’t the +correct moment to drag Bliss in. And when we want him all we have to +do is to knock on that little door—he’s undoubtedly in his study, and +he can’t run away.… And there’s a bit of prelimin’ry surveying to be +done first.” +</p> + +<p> +Heath hesitated and made a grimace. Then: +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind, Emery. But go out in the back yard, and see that nobody +tries to make a getaway.… And you, Hennessey,”—he addressed the other +man—“stand in the front hall. If any one tries to leave the house, +grab ’em and bring ’em in—see?” +</p> + +<p> +The two detectives disappeared with a stealth that struck me as highly +ludicrous. +</p> + +<p> +“Got something up your sleeve, sir?” the Sergeant asked, eying Vance +hopefully. “This homicide, though, don’t look very complicated to me. +Kyle gets bumped off by a blow over the head, and beside him is a +scarf-pin belonging to Doctor Bliss.… That’s simple enough, ain’t it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Too dashed simple, Sergeant,” Vance returned quietly, contemplating +the dead man. “That’s the whole trouble.…” +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly he moved toward the statue of Anûbis, and leaning over, +picked up a folded piece of paper which had lain almost hidden beneath +one of Kyle’s outstretched hands. Carefully unfolding it, he held it +toward the light. It was a legal-sized sheet of paper, and was covered +with figures. +</p> + +<p> +“This document,” he remarked, “must have been in Kyle’s possession +when he passed from this world.… Know anything about it, Scarlett?” +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett stepped forward eagerly and took the paper with an unsteady +hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Good Heavens!” he exclaimed. “It’s the report of expenditures we drew +up last night. Doctor Bliss was working on this tabulation——” +</p> + +<p> +“Uh-huh!” Heath grinned with vicious satisfaction. “So! Our dead +friend here musta seen Bliss this morning—else how could he have got +that paper?” +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett frowned. +</p> + +<p> +“I must say it looks that way,” he conceded. “This report hadn’t been +made out when the rest of us knocked off last night. Doctor Bliss said +he was going to draw it up before Mr. Kyle got here this morning.” He +seemed utterly nonplussed as he handed the paper back to Vance. “But +there’s something wrong somewhere.… You know, Vance, it’s not +reasonable——” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t be futile, Scarlett.” Vance’s admonition cut him short. “If +Doctor Bliss had wielded the statue of Sakhmet, why should he have +left this report here to incriminate himself? … As you say, something +is wrong somewhere.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wrong, is it!” Heath scoffed. “There’s that beetle—and now we find +this report. What more do you want, Mr. Vance?” +</p> + +<p> +“A great deal more.” Vance spoke softly. “A man doesn’t ordinarily +commit murder and leave such obvious bits of direct evidence strewn +all about the place.… It’s childish.” +</p> + +<p> +Heath snorted. +</p> + +<p> +“Panic—that’s what it was. He got scared and beat it in a hurry.…” +</p> + +<p> +Vance’s eyes rested on the little metal door of Doctor Bliss’s study. +</p> + +<p> +“By the by, Scarlett,” he asked; “when did you last see that scarab +scarf-pin?” +</p> + +<p> +“Last night.” The man had begun to pace restlessly up and down. “It +was beastly hot in the study, and Doctor Bliss took off his collar and +four-in-hand and laid ’em on the table. The scarab pin was sticking in +the cravat.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” Vance’s gaze did not shift from the little door. “The pin lay on +the table during the conference, eh? … And, as you told me, Hani and +Mrs. Bliss and Salveter and yourself were present.” +</p> + +<p> +“Right.” +</p> + +<p> +“Any one, then, might have seen it and taken it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well—yes, … I suppose so.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance thought a moment. +</p> + +<p> +“Still, this report… most curious! … I could bear to know how it got in +Kyle’s hands. You say it hadn’t been completed when the conference +broke up?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no.” Scarlett seemed hesitant about answering. “We all turned in +our figures, and Doctor Bliss said he was going to add ’em up and +present them to Kyle to-day. Then he telephoned Kyle—in our +presence—and made an appointment with him for eleven this morning.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is that all he said to Kyle on the phone?” +</p> + +<p> +“Practically… though I believe he mentioned the new shipment that came +yesterday——” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed? Very interestin’.… And what did Doctor Bliss say about the +shipment?” +</p> + +<p> +“As I remember—I really didn’t pay much attention—he told Kyle that +the crates had been unpacked, and added that he wanted Kyle to inspect +their contents.… You see, there was some doubt whether Kyle would +finance another expedition. The Egyptian Government had been somewhat +snooty, and had retained most of the choicest items for the Cairo +Museum. Kyle didn’t like this, and as he had already put oodles of +money in the enterprise, he was inclined to back out. No <i>kudos</i> for +him, you understand.… In fact, Kyle’s attitude was the cause of the +conference. Doctor Bliss wanted to show him the exact cost of the +former excavations and try to induce him to finance a continuation of +the work.…” +</p> + +<p> +“And the old boy refused to do it,” supplemented Heath; “and then the +doctor got excited and cracked him over the head with that black +statue.” +</p> + +<p> +“You <i>will</i> insist that life is so simple, Sergeant,” sighed Vance. +</p> + +<p> +“I’d sure hate to think it was as complex as you make it, Mr. Vance.” +Heath’s retort came very near to an expression of dignified sarcasm. +</p> + +<p> +The words were scarcely out of his mouth when the main door was opened +quietly and a middle-aged, dark-complexioned man in native Egyptian +costume appeared at the head of the front stairs. He surveyed us with +inquisitive calm, and slowly and with great deliberation of movement, +descended into the museum. +</p> + +<p> +“Good-morning, Mr. Scarlett,” he said, with a sardonic smile. He +glanced at the murdered man. “I observe that tragedy has visited this +household.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Hani.” Scarlett spoke with a certain condescension. “Mr. Kyle +has been murdered. These gentlemen”—he made a slight gesture in our +direction—“are investigating the crime.” +</p> + +<p> +Hani bowed gravely. He was of medium height, somewhat slender, and +gave one the impression of contemptuous aloofness. There was a +distinct glint of racial animosity in his close-set eyes. His face was +relatively short—he was markedly dolichocephalic—and his straight +nose had the typical rounded extremity of the true Copt. His eyes were +brown—the color of his skin—and his eyebrows bushy. He wore a +close-cut, semi-gray beard, and his lips were full and sensual. His +head was covered by a soft dark tarbûsh bearing a pendant tassel of +blue silk, and about his shoulders hung a long kaftan of red-and-white +striped cotton, which fell to his ankles and barely revealed his +yellow-leather babûshes. +</p> + +<p> +He stood for a full minute looking down at Kyle’s body, without any +trace of repulsion or even regret. Then he lifted his head and +contemplated the statue of Anûbis. A queer devotional expression came +over his face; and presently his lips curled in a faint sardonic +smile. After a moment he made a sweeping gesture with his left hand +and, turning slowly, faced us. But his eyes were not on us—they were +fixed on some distant point far beyond the front windows. +</p> + +<p> +“There is no need for an investigation, gentlemen,” he said, in a +sepulchral tone. “It is the judgment of Sakhmet. For many generations +the sacred tombs of our forefathers have been violated by the +treasure-seeking Occidental. But the gods of old Egypt were powerful +gods and protected their children. They have been patient. But the +despoilers have gone too far. It was time for the wrath of their +vengeance to strike. And it has struck. The tomb of Intef-o has been +saved from the vandal. Sakhmet has pronounced her judgment, just as +she did when she slaughtered the rebels at Henen-ensu<sup><a href="#n09b" id="n09a">[9]</a></sup> to protect +her father, Rê, against their treason.” +</p> + +<p> +He paused and drew a deep breath. +</p> + +<p> +“But Anûbis will never guide a sacrilegious giaour to the Halls of +Osiris—however reverently he may plead.…” +</p> + +<p> +Both Hani’s manner and his words were impressive; and as he spoke I +remembered, with an unpleasant feeling, the recent tragedy of Lord +Carnarvon and the strange tales of ancient sorcery that sprang up to +account for his death on supernatural grounds. +</p> + +<p> +“Quite unscientific, don’t y’ know.” Vance’s voice, cynical and +drawling, brought me quickly back to the world of reality. “I +seriously question the ability of that piece of black igneous rock to +accomplish a murder unless wielded by ordin’ry human hands.… And if +you <i>must</i> talk tosh, Hani, we’d be tremendously obliged if you’d do +it in the privacy of your bedchamber. It’s most borin’.” +</p> + +<p> +The Egyptian shot him a look of hatred. +</p> + +<p> +“The West has much to learn from the East regarding matters of the +soul,” he pronounced oracularly. +</p> + +<p> +“I dare say.” Vance smiled blandly. “But the soul is not now under +discussion. The West, which you despise, is prone to practicality; and +you’d do well to forgo the metempsychosis for the nonce and answer a +few questions which the District Attorney would like to put to you.” +</p> + +<p> +Hani bowed his acquiescence; and Markham, taking his cigar from his +mouth, fixed a stern look upon him. +</p> + +<p> +“Where were you all this forenoon?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“In my room—up-stairs. I was not well.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you heard no sounds in the museum here?” +</p> + +<p> +“It would have been impossible for me to hear any sound in this room.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you saw no one enter or leave the house?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. My room is at the rear, and I did not leave it until a few +moments ago.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance put the next question. +</p> + +<p> +“Why did you leave it then?” +</p> + +<p> +“I had work to do here in the museum,” the man replied sullenly. +</p> + +<p> +“But I understand you heard Doctor Bliss make an appointment with Mr. +Kyle for eleven this morning.” Vance was watching Hani sharply. “Did +you intend to interrupt the conference?” +</p> + +<p> +“I had forgotten about the appointment.” The answer did not come +spontaneously. “If I had found Doctor Bliss and Mr. Kyle in conference +I would have returned to my room.” +</p> + +<p> +“To be sure.” Vance’s tone held a tinge of sarcasm. “I say, Hani, +what’s your full name?” +</p> + +<p> +The Egyptian hesitated, but only for a second. Then he said: +</p> + +<p> +“Anûpu Hani.”<sup><a href="#n10b" id="n10a">[10]</a></sup> +</p> + +<p> +Vance’s eyebrows went up, and there was irony in the slow smile that +crept to the corners of his mouth. +</p> + +<p> +“ ‘Anûpu’,” he repeated. “Most allurin’. <i>Anûpu</i>, I believe, was the +Egyptian form for Anûbis, what? You would seem to be identified with +that unpleasant-lookin’ gentleman in the corner, with the jackal’s +head.” +</p> + +<p> +Hani compressed his thick lips and made no response. +</p> + +<p> +“It really doesn’t matter, y’ know,” Vance remarked lightly.… “By the +by, wasn’t it you who placed the small statue of Sakhmet atop the +cabinet yonder?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. It was unpacked yesterday.” +</p> + +<p> +“And was it you who drew the curtain across the end cabinet?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—at Doctor Bliss’s request. The objects in it were in great +disarray. We had not yet had time to arrange them.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance turned thoughtfully to Scarlett. +</p> + +<p> +“Just what was said by Doctor Bliss to Mr. Kyle over the phone last +night?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think I’ve told you everything, old man.” Scarlett appeared both +puzzled and startled at Vance’s persistent curiosity on this point. +“He simply made the appointment for eleven o’clock, saying he’d have +the financial report ready at that time.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what did he say about the new shipment?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing, except that he was desirous of having Mr. Kyle see the +items.” +</p> + +<p> +“And did he mention their whereabouts?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; I recall that he said they had been placed in the end +cabinet—the one with the closed curtains.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance nodded with a satisfaction I did not then understand. +</p> + +<p> +“That accounts probably for Kyle’s having come early to inspect +the—what shall I say?—loot.” +</p> + +<p> +He faced Hani again with an engaging smile. +</p> + +<p> +“And is it not true that you and the others at the conference last +night heard this phone call?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—we all heard it.” The Egyptian had become morose; but I noticed +that he was studying Vance surreptitiously from the corner of his eye. +</p> + +<p> +“And—I take it—,” mused Vance, “any one who knew Kyle might have +surmised that he would come early to inspect the items in that end +cabinet.… Eh, Scarlett?” +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett shifted uneasily and looked at the great figure of the serene +Kha-ef-Rê. +</p> + +<p> +“Well—since you put it that way—yes.… Fact is, Vance, Doctor Bliss +suggested that Mr. Kyle come early and have a peep at the treasures.” +</p> + +<p> +These ramifications had begun to irritate Sergeant Heath. +</p> + +<p> +“Pardon me, Mr. Vance,” he blurted, with ill-concealed annoyance; “but +do you happen to be the defense attorney for this Doctor Bliss? If you +aren’t working hard to alibi him, I’m the Queen of Sheba.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re certainly not Solomon, Sergeant,” returned Vance. “Don’t you +care to weigh all the possibilities?” +</p> + +<p> +“Weigh hell!” Heath was losing his temper. “I want a heart-to-heart +talk with this guy who wore that beetle-pin and drew up that report. I +know clean-cut evidence when I see it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t doubt that for a moment,” Vance spoke dulcetly. “But even +clean-cut evidence may have various interpretations.…” +</p> + +<p> +Snitkin threw open the door noisily at this point, and Doctor Doremus, +the Medical Examiner, tripped jauntily down the stairs. He was a thin, +nervous man, with a seamed, prematurely old face which carried a look +at once crabbed and jocular. +</p> + +<p> +“Good-morning, gentlemen,” he greeted us breezily. He shook hands +perfunctorily with Markham and Heath, and squaring off, gave Vance an +exaggeratedly disgruntled look. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, well!” he exclaimed, tilting his straw hat at an even more +rakish angle. “Wherever there’s a murder I find you, sir.” He glanced +at his wristwatch. “Lunch time, by George!” His flashing gaze moved +about the museum and came to rest on one of the anthropoid mummy +cases. “This place don’t look healthy.… Where’s the body, Sergeant?” +</p> + +<p> +Heath had been standing before the prostrate body of Kyle. He now +moved aside and pointed to the dead man. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s him, doc.” +</p> + +<p> +Doremus came forward and peered indifferently at the corpse. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, he’s dead,” he pronounced, cocking his eye at Heath. +</p> + +<p> +“Honest to Gawd?” The Sergeant was good-naturedly sarcastic. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s the way it strikes me—though since Carrel’s experiments you +never can tell.… Anyway, I’ll stand by my decision.” He chuckled, and +kneeling down, touched one of Kyle’s hands. Then he moved one of the +dead man’s legs sidewise. “And he’s been dead for about two hours—not +longer, maybe less.” +</p> + +<p> +Heath took out a large handkerchief and, with great care, lifted the +black statue of Sakhmet from Kyle’s head. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m saving this for finger-prints.… Any signs of a struggle, doc?” +</p> + +<p> +Doremus turned the body over and made a careful inspection of the +face, the hands, and the clothes. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t see any,” he returned laconically. “Was struck from the rear, +I’d say. Fell forward, arms outstretched. Didn’t move after he’d hit +the floor.” +</p> + +<p> +“Any chance, doctor, of his having been dead when the statue hit him?” +asked Vance. +</p> + +<p> +“Nope.” Doremus rose and teetered on his toes impatiently. “Too much +blood for that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Simple case of assault, then?” +</p> + +<p> +“Looks like it.… I’m no wizard, though.” The doctor had become +irritable. “The autopsy will settle that point.” +</p> + +<p> +“Can we have the <i>post-mortem</i> report immediately?” Markham made the +request. +</p> + +<p> +“As soon as the Sergeant gets the body to the mortuary.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’ll be there by the time you’ve finished lunch, doc,” said Heath. +“I ordered the wagon before I left the Bureau.” +</p> + +<p> +“That being that, I’ll run along.” Again Doremus shook hands with +Markham and Heath, and throwing a friendly salutation to Vance, walked +briskly out of the room. +</p> + +<p> +I had noticed that ever since Heath had placed the statue of Sakhmet +to one side he had stood staring impatiently at the small pool of +blood. As soon as Doremus had departed he knelt down and became +doggedly interested in something on the floor. He took out his +flash-light, which Vance had returned to him, and focussed it on the +edge of the blood-pool at the point where I had noted the outward +smear. Then, after a moment, he moved a short distance away, and again +shot his light on a faint smudge which stained the yellow wood floor. +Once more he shifted his position—this time toward the little spiral +stairs. A grunt of satisfaction escaped him now, and rising, he +walked, in a wide circle, to the stairs themselves. There he again +knelt down and ran the beam of his flash-light over the lower steps. +On the third step the ray of light suddenly halted, and the Sergeant’s +face shot forward in an attitude of intense concentration. +</p> + +<p> +A grin slowly overspread his broad features, and straightening up, he +brought a gaze of triumph to bear on Vance. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve got the case tied up in a sack now, sir,” he announced. +</p> + +<p> +“I take it,” replied Vance, “you’ve found the spoor of the murderer.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll say!” Heath nodded with the deliberate emphasis of finality. +“It’s just like I told you.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t be too positive, Sergeant.” Vance’s face had grown sombre. “The +obvious explanation is often the wrong one.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yeah?” Heath turned to Scarlett. “Listen, Mr. Scarlett, I got a +question to ask you—and I want a straight answer.” Scarlett bristled, +but the Sergeant paid no attention to his resentment. “What kind of +shoes does this Doctor Bliss generally wear round the house?” +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett hesitated, and looked appealingly to Vance. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell the Sergeant whatever you know,” Vance advised him. “This is no +time for reticence. You can trust me. There’s no question of +disloyalty now. The truth, d’ ye see, is all that matters.” +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett cleared his throat nervously. +</p> + +<p> +“Rubber tennis shoes,” he said, in a low voice. “Ever since his first +expedition in Egypt he has had weak feet—they troubled him +abominably. He got relief by wearing white canvas sneakers with rubber +soles.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure he did.” Heath walked back toward the body of Kyle. “Step over +here a minute, Mr. Vance. I got something to show you.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance moved forward, and I followed him. +</p> + +<p> +“Take a look at that footprint,” the Sergeant continued, pointing +toward the smear at the edge of the pool of blood where Kyle’s head +had lain. “It don’t show up much till you get close to it… but, once +you spot it, you’ll notice that it has marks of a rubber-soled shoe, +with crossings like a checker-board on the sole and round spots on the +heel.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance bent over and inspected the footprint in the blood. +</p> + +<p> +“Quite right, Sergeant.” He had become very grave and serious. +</p> + +<p> +“And now look here,” Heath went on, pointing to two other smudges on +the floor half-way to the iron stairs. +</p> + +<p> +Vance leaned over the spots, and nodded. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he admitted. “Those marks were probably made by the murderer.…” +</p> + +<p> +“And once more, sir.” Heath went to the stairs and flashed his +pocket-light on the third step. +</p> + +<p> +Vance adjusted his monocle and looked closely. Then he rose and stood +still for a moment, his chin resting in the palm of his hand. +</p> + +<p> +“How about it, Mr. Vance?” the Sergeant demanded. “Is that evidence +enough for you?” +</p> + +<p> +Markham stepped to the foot of the circular stairway, and placed his +hand on Vance’s shoulder. +</p> + +<p> +“Why this stubbornness, old friend?” he asked in a kindly voice. “It +begins to look like a clear case.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance lifted his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“A clear case—yes! But a clear case of what? … It doesn’t make sense. +Does a man of Bliss’s mentality brutally murder a man with whom he is +known to have had an appointment, and then leave his scarab-pin and a +financial report, which no one else could have produced, on the scene +of the crime, to involve himself? And, lest that evidence wasn’t +enough, is he going to leave bloody footprints, of a distinctive and +personal design, leading from the body to his study? … Is it +reasonable?” +</p> + +<p> +“It may not be reasonable,” Markham conceded; “but these things are +nevertheless facts. And there’s nothing to be done but confront Doctor +Bliss with them.” +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose you’re right.” Vance’s eyes again drifted toward the little +metal door at the head of the spiral stairs. “Yes… the time has come +to put Bliss on the carpet.… But I don’t like it, Markham. There’s +something awry.… Maybe the doctor himself can enlighten us. Let me +fetch him—I’ve known him for several years.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance turned and ascended the stairs, taking care not to step on the +telltale footprint the Sergeant had discovered. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch05"> +CHAPTER V.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">MERYT-AMEN</span> +</h3> + +<p class="center"> +(<i>Friday, July 13; 12.45 p.m.</i>) +</p> + +<p> +Vance knocked on the narrow door and reached into his pocket for his +cigarette-case. We on the floor below watched the metal panel in +silent expectancy. A feeling of dread, for some unknown reason, +assailed me, and my muscles went tense. To this day I cannot explain +the cause of my fear; but at that moment a chill came over my heart. +All the evidence that had come to light pointed unmistakably toward +the great Egyptologist in the little room beyond. +</p> + +<p> +Vance alone seemed unconcerned. He casually lit his cigarette, and +when he had replaced the lighter in his pocket, he knocked again at +the door—this time more loudly. Still no answer. +</p> + +<p> +“Very curious,” I heard him murmur. +</p> + +<p> +Then he raised his arm and pounded on the metal with a force that sent +reverberating echoes through the great room of the museum. +</p> + +<p> +At last, after several moments of ominous silence, there was a sound +of a knob turning, and the heavy door swung slowly inward. +</p> + +<p> +In the opening stood the tall, slender figure of a man in his middle +forties. He wore a peacock-blue dressing-gown of self-figured silk, +which reached to his ankles, and his sparse yellow hair was tousled as +if he had just risen from bed. Indeed, his entire appearance was that +of one who had suddenly been roused from a deep sleep. His eyes were +hazy, and their lids drooped; and he clung to the inside knob of the +door for support. He actually swayed a little as he peered dully at +Vance. +</p> + +<p> +Withal, he was a striking figure. His face was long and thin, rugged +and deeply tanned. His forehead was high and narrow—a scholar’s brow; +but his nose, which was curved like an eagle’s beak, was his most +prominent characteristic. His mouth was straight, and surmounted a +chin that was so square as to be cubic. His cheeks were sunken, and I +got the distinct impression of a man who was physically ill but who +overrode the ravages of disease by sheer nervous vitality. +</p> + +<p> +For a moment he stared at Vance uncomprehendingly. Then—like a person +coming out of an anæsthetic—he blinked several times and took a deep +inspiration. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” His voice was thick and a trifle rasping. “Mr. Vance! … A long +time since I’ve seen you.…” His eyes drifted about the museum and came +to rest on the little group at the foot of the stairs. “I don’t quite +understand.…” He passed his hand slowly over the top of his head, and +ran his fingers through his rumpled hair. “My head feels so heavy… +please forgive me… I—I must have been asleep.… Who are these +gentlemen below? … I recognize Scarlett and Hani.… It’s been devilishly +hot in my study.” +</p> + +<p> +“A serious accident has happened, Doctor Bliss,” Vance informed him, +in a low voice. “Would you mind stepping down into the museum? … We +need your help.” +</p> + +<p> +“An accident!” Bliss drew himself up, and for the first time since he +appeared at the door his eyes opened wide. “A serious accident? … What +has happened? Not burglars, I hope. I’ve always been worried——” +</p> + +<p> +“No, there have been no burglars, doctor.” Vance steadied him as he +walked nervously down the circular stairs. +</p> + +<p> +When he reached the floor of the museum every eye in the room, I felt +sure, was focussed on his feet. Certainly my own initial instinct was +to inspect them; and I noticed that Heath, who stood beside me, had +concentrated his gaze on the doctor’s foot-covering. But if any of us +expected to find Bliss shod in rubber-soled tennis shoes, he was +disappointed. The man wore a pair of soft vici-kid bedroom slippers, +dyed blue to match his dressing-gown and adorned with orange +trimmings. +</p> + +<p> +I did note, however, that his gray-silk pyjamas, which showed through +the deep V-opening of his gown, had a broad, turned-over collar in +which a mauve four-in-hand had been loosely knotted. +</p> + +<p> +His eyes swept the little group before him and returned to Vance. +</p> + +<p> +“You say there have been no burglars?” His voice was still vague and +thick. “What, then, was the accident, Mr. Vance?” +</p> + +<p> +“An accident far more serious than burglars, doctor,” replied Vance, +who had not released his hold on the other’s arm. “Mr. Kyle is dead.” +</p> + +<p> +“Kyle dead!” Bliss’s mouth sagged open, and a look of hopeless +amazement came into his eyes. “But—but… I talked to him last night. +He was to come here this morning… regarding the new expedition.… Dead? +All my work—my life’s work—ended!” He slumped into one of the small +folding wooden chairs of which there were perhaps a score scattered +about the museum. A look of tragic resignation settled on his face. +“This is terrible news.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m very sorry, doctor,” Vance murmured consolingly. “I fully +understand your great disappointment.…” +</p> + +<p> +Bliss rose to his feet. His lethargy had fallen from him, and his +features became hard and resolute. He looked squarely at Vance. +</p> + +<p> +“Dead?” His voice was menacing. “How did he die?” +</p> + +<p> +“He was murdered.” Vance pointed to the body of Kyle before which +Markham and Heath and I were standing. +</p> + +<p> +Bliss stepped toward Kyle’s prostrate figure. For a full minute he +stood staring down at the body; then his gaze shifted to the small +statue of Sakhmet, and a moment later he lifted his eyes to the lupine +features of Anûbis. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly he swung round and faced Hani. The Egyptian took a backward +step, as though he feared violence from the doctor. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you know about this?—you jackal!” Bliss threw the question +at him venomously, a passionate hate in his voice. “You’ve spied on me +for years. You’ve taken my money and pocketed bribes from your stupid +and grasping government. You’ve poisoned my wife against me. You’ve +stood in the way of all I’ve endeavored to accomplish. You tried to +murder the old native who showed me the site of the two obelisks in +front of Intef’s pyramid.<sup><a href="#n11b" id="n11a">[11]</a></sup> You’ve hampered me at every turn. And +because my wife believed in you and loved you, I’ve kept you. And now, +when I’ve found the site of Intef’s tomb and actually entered the +antechamber and am about to give the fruits of my researches to the +world, the one man who could make possible the success of my life’s +work is found murdered.” Bliss’s eyes were like burning coals. “What +do you know about it, Anûpu Hani? Speak—you contemptible dog of a +fellah!” +</p> + +<p> +Hani had retreated several paces. Bliss’s vitriolic tirade had +pitifully cowed him. But he did not grovel: he had become grim and +morose, and there was a snarl in his voice when he answered. +</p> + +<p> +“I know nothing of the murder. It was the vengeance of Sakhmet! <i>She</i> +killed the one who would have paid for the desecration of Intef’s +tomb.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Sakhmet!” Bliss’s scorn was devastating. “A piece of stone belonging +to a hybrid mythology! You’re not among illiterate witch-doctors +now—you’re confronted with civilized human beings who want the +truth.… Who killed Kyle?” +</p> + +<p> +“If it wasn’t Sakhmet, I don’t know, Your Presence.” Despite the +Egyptian’s subservient attitude there was an underlying contempt in +his manner and in the intonation of his voice. “I have been in my room +all the morning.… You, <i>hadretak</i>,” he added, with a sneer, “were very +close to your rich patron when he departed this world for the Land of +Shades.” +</p> + +<p> +Two red patches of anger shone through the tan of Bliss’s cheeks. His +eyes blazed abnormally, and his hands plucked spasmodically at the +folds of his dressing-gown. I feared he would fly at the throat of the +Egyptian. +</p> + +<p> +Vance, too, had some such apprehension, for he moved to the doctor’s +side and touched him reassuringly on the arm. +</p> + +<p> +“I understand perfectly how you feel, sir,” he said in a soothing +voice. “But temper won’t help us get at the root of this matter.” +</p> + +<p> +Bliss sank back into his chair without a word, and Scarlett, who had +been looking on at the scene with troubled amazement, stepped quickly +up to Vance. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s something radically wrong here,” he said. “The doctor isn’t +himself.” +</p> + +<p> +“So I observe.” Vance spoke dryly, but there was a puzzled frown on +his face. He scrutinized Bliss for a moment. “I say, doctor; what time +did you fall asleep in your study this morning?” +</p> + +<p> +Bliss looked up lethargically. His wrath seemed to have left him, and +his eyes were again heavy. +</p> + +<p> +“What time?” he repeated, like a man attempting to collect his +thoughts. “Let me see.… Brush brought me my breakfast about nine, and +a few minutes later I drank the coffee… some of it, at any rate——” +His gaze wandered off into space. “That’s all I remember until—until +there was a pounding on the door.… What time is it, Mr. Vance?” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s well past noon,” Vance informed him. “You evidently fell asleep +as soon as you had your coffee. Quite natural, don’t y’ know. Scarlett +tells me you worked late last night.” +</p> + +<p> +Bliss nodded heavily. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—till three this morning. I wanted to have the report in order +for Kyle when he arrived.… And now”—he looked hopelessly toward the +outstretched body of his benefactor—“I find him dead—murdered.… I +can’t understand.” +</p> + +<p> +“Neither can we—for the moment,” Vance returned. “But Mr. +Markham—the District Attorney—and Sergeant Heath of the Homicide +Bureau are here for the purpose of ascertaining the facts; and you may +rest assured, sir, that justice will be done. Just now you can help us +materially by answering a few questions. Do you feel equal to it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course I’m equal to it,” Bliss replied, with a slight show of +nervous vitality. “But,” he added, running his tongue over his dry +lips, “I’m horribly thirsty. A drink of water——” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! I thought you might be wanting a drink.… How about it, Sergeant?” +</p> + +<p> +Heath was already on his way toward the front stairs. He disappeared +through the door, and we could hear his voice giving staccato orders +to some one outside. A minute or two later he returned to the museum +with a glass of water. +</p> + +<p> +Doctor Bliss drank it like a man parched with thirst, and when he had +set the glass down Vance asked him: +</p> + +<p> +“When did you finish your financial report for Mr. Kyle?” +</p> + +<p> +“This morning—just before Brush brought me my breakfast.” Bliss’s +voice was stronger: there was even animation in his tone. “I had +practically completed it before retiring last night—all but about an +hour’s work. So I came down to the study at eight this morning.” +</p> + +<p> +“And where is that report now?” +</p> + +<p> +“On my desk in the study. I intended to check the figures after +breakfast, before Kyle arrived.… I’ll get it.” +</p> + +<p> +He started to rise, but Vance restrained him. +</p> + +<p> +“That won’t be necess’ry, sir. I have it here.… It was found in Mr. +Kyle’s hand.” +</p> + +<p> +Bliss looked at the paper, which Vance showed him, with dumbfounded +eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“In—Kyle’s hand?” he stammered. “But… but.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t disturb yourself about it.” Vance’s manner was casual. “Its +presence there will be explained when we’ve come to know the situation +better. The report was no doubt taken from your study while you were +asleep.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Maybe Kyle himself——” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s possible, but hardly probable.” It was obvious that Vance +scouted the idea of Kyle’s having personally taken the report. “By the +by, is it custom’ry for you to leave the door leading from your study +into the museum unlocked?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. I never lock it. No necessity to. As a matter of fact I couldn’t +tell you offhand where the key is.” +</p> + +<p> +“That bein’ the case,” mused Vance, “any one in the museum might have +entered the study and taken the report after nine o’clock or so, when +you were asleep.” +</p> + +<p> +“But who, in Heaven’s name, Mr. Vance——?” +</p> + +<p> +“We don’t know yet. We’re still in the conjectural stage of our +investigation.—And if you’ll be so good, doctor, permit me to ask the +questions.… Do you happen to know where Mr. Salveter is this morning?” +</p> + +<p> +Bliss turned his head toward Vance with a resentful gesture. +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly I know where he is,” he responded, setting his jaws firmly. +(I got the impression that he intended to protect Kyle’s nephew from +any suspicion.) “I sent him to the Metropolitan Museum——” +</p> + +<p> +“You sent him? When?” +</p> + +<p> +“I asked him last night to go the first thing this morning and inquire +regarding a duplicate set of reproductions of the tomb furniture in +the recently discovered grave of Hotpeheres, the mother of Kheuf of +the Fourth Dynasty——” +</p> + +<p> +“Hotpeheres? Kheuf? … Do you refer to Hetep-hir-es and Khufu?” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly!” The doctor’s tone was tart. “I use the transliteration of +Weigall. In his ‘History of the Pharaohs’——” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes. Forgive me, doctor. I recall now that Weigall has altered +many of the accepted transliterations from the Egyptian.… But, if my +memory is correct, the expedition which unearthed the tomb of +Hetep-hir-es—or Hotpeheres—was sponsored by Harvard University and +the Boston Museum of Fine Arts.” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite true. But I knew that my old friend, Albert Lythgoe, the +Curator of the Egyptian department of the Metropolitan Museum, could +supply me with the information I desired.” +</p> + +<p> +“I see,” Vance paused. “Did you speak to Mr. Salveter this morning?” +</p> + +<p> +“No.” Bliss became indignant. “I was in my study from eight o’clock +on; and the lad wouldn’t think of disturbing me. He probably left the +house about nine-thirty,—the Metropolitan Museum opens at ten.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance nodded. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes; Brush said he went out about that time. But shouldn’t he be back +by now?” +</p> + +<p> +Bliss shrugged his shoulders. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps,” he said, as if the matter was of no importance. “He may +have had to wait for the Curator, however. Anyway, he’ll be back as +soon as he has finished his mission. He’s a good conscientious lad: +both my wife and I are extremely fond of him. It was he who, by +interceding with his uncle, made possible the excavations of Intef’s +tomb.” +</p> + +<p> +“So Scarlett told me.” Vance spoke with the offhandedness of complete +uninterest, and drawing up a collapsible wooden chair sat down lazily. +As he did so he gave Markham an admonitory glance—a glance which said +as plainly as words could have done: “Let me do the talking for the +time being.” Then he leaned back and folded his hands behind his head. +</p> + +<p> +“I say, doctor,” he went on, with a slight yawn; “speaking of old +Intef, I was present, don’t y’ know, when you appropriated that +fascinatin’ lapis-lazuli scarab.…” +</p> + +<p> +Bliss’s hand went to his four-in-hand, and he glanced guiltily toward +Hani, who had moved before the statue of Teti-shiret and now stood +with his back to us in a pose of detached and absorbed adoration. +Vance pretended not to have seen the doctor’s movements, and, gazing +dreamily out of the rear windows, he continued: +</p> + +<p> +“A most interestin’ scarab—unusually marked. Scarlett tells me you +had it made into a scarf-pin.… Have you it with you? I’d jolly well +like to see it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Really, Mr. Vance,”—again Bliss’s hand went to his cravat—“it must +be up-stairs. If you’ll call Brush——” +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett had moved forward beside Bliss. +</p> + +<p> +“It was in your study last night, doctor,” he said, “—on the desk.…” +</p> + +<p> +“So it was!” Bliss was in perfect control of himself now. “You’ll find +it on my desk, stuck in the necktie I was wearing yesterday.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance rose and confronted Scarlett with an arctic look. +</p> + +<p> +“Thanks awfully,” he said coldly. “When I need your assistance I’ll +call on you.” Then he turned to Bliss. “The truth is, doctor, I was +endeavorin’ to ascertain when you last remembered havin’ your scarab +pin.… It’s not in your study, d’ ye see. It was lyin’ beside the body +of Mr. Kyle when we arrived here.” +</p> + +<p> +“My Intef scarab here!” Bliss leapt to his feet and gazed, with a +panic-stricken stare, at the murdered man. “That’s impossible!” +</p> + +<p> +Vance stepped to Kyle’s body and picked up the scarab. +</p> + +<p> +“Not impossible, sir,” he said, displaying the pin; “but very +mystifyin’.… It was probably taken from your study at the same time as +the report.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s beyond me,” Bliss remarked slowly, in a hoarse whisper. +</p> + +<p> +“Maybe it fell outa your necktie,” Heath suggested antagonistically, +thrusting his jaw forward. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean?” The doctor’s tone was dull and frightened. “I +didn’t have it in this necktie. I left it in the study——” +</p> + +<p> +“Sergeant!” Vance gave Heath a look of stern reproval. “Let’s go at +this thing calmly and with discretion.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Vance,”—Heath’s aggressiveness did not relax—“I’m here to find +out who croaked Kyle. And the person who had every opportunity to do +it is this Doctor Bliss. On top of that fact we find a financial +report and a stick-pin that hooks Doctor Bliss up to the dead man. And +there’s those footprints——” +</p> + +<p> +“All you say is true, Sergeant.” Vance cut him short. “But +ballyragging the doctor will not give us the explanation of this +extr’ordin’ry situation.” +</p> + +<p> +Bliss had shrunk back into his chair. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, my God!” he moaned. “I see what you’re getting at. You think <i>I</i> +killed him!” He turned his eyes to Vance in desperate entreaty. “I +tell you I’ve been asleep since nine o’clock. I didn’t even know Kyle +was here. It’s terrible—terrible.… Surely, Mr. Vance, you can’t +believe——” +</p> + +<p> +There was a sound of angry voices at the main door of the museum, and +we all looked in that direction. At the head of the stairs stood +Hennessey, his arms wide, protesting volubly. On the door-sill was a +young woman. +</p> + +<p> +“This is my house,” she said in a shrill, angry voice. “How dare you +tell me I can’t enter here? …” +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett at once hurried toward the stairs. +</p> + +<p> +“Meryt!” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s my wife,” Bliss informed us. “Why is she refused admittance, Mr. +Vance?” +</p> + +<p> +Before Vance could answer, Heath was shouting: +</p> + +<p> +“That’s all right, Hennessey. Let the lady come in.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Bliss hastened down the stairs, and almost ran to her husband. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, what is it, Mindrum? What has happened?” She dropped to her knees +and put her arms about the doctor’s shoulders. At that instant she +caught sight of Kyle’s body and, with a gasp and a shudder, turned her +eyes away. +</p> + +<p> +She was a striking-looking woman, whose age, I surmised, was about +twenty-six-or-seven. Her large eyes were dark and heavily lashed, and +her skin was a deep olive. Her Egyptian blood was most marked in the +sensual fulness of her lips and in her high prominent cheekbones, +which gave her face a decidedly Oriental character. There was +something about her that recalled to my mind the beautiful +reconstructed painting made of Queen Nefret-îti by Winifred +Brunton.<sup><a href="#n12b" id="n12a">[12]</a></sup> She wore a powder-blue toque hat not unlike the +headdress of Nefret-îti herself; and her gown of cinnamon-brown +georgette crêpe clung closely to her slender, well-rounded body, +bringing out and emphasizing its sensuous curves. There were both +strength and beauty in her supple figure, which followed the lines of +the old Oriental ideal such as we find in Ingres’ “Bain Turc.” +</p> + +<p> +Despite her youth she possessed a distinct air of maturity and poise: +there were undeniable depths to her nature; and I could easily +imagine, as I watched her kneeling beside Bliss, that she might be +capable of powerful emotions and equally powerful deeds.<sup><a href="#n13b" id="n13a">[13]</a></sup> +</p> + +<p> +Bliss patted her shoulder in an affectionately paternal manner. His +eyes, though, were abstracted. +</p> + +<p> +“Kyle is dead, my dear,” he told her in a hollow voice. “He’s been +killed… and these gentlemen are accusing me of having done it.” +</p> + +<p> +“You!” Mrs. Bliss was instantly on her feet. For a moment her great +eyes stared uncomprehendingly at her husband; then she turned on us in +a flashing rage. But before she could speak Vance stepped toward her. +</p> + +<p> +“The doctor is not quite accurate, Mrs. Bliss,” he said in a low, even +tone. “We have not accused him. We are merely making an investigation +of this tragic affair; and it happens that the doctor’s scarab-pin was +found near Mr. Kyle’s body.…” +</p> + +<p> +“What of it?” She had become strangely calm. “Any one might have +dropped it there.” +</p> + +<p> +“Exactly, madam,” Vance returned, with friendly assurance. “Our main +object in this investigation is to ascertain who that person was.” +</p> + +<p> +The woman’s eyes were half-closed, and she stood rigid, as if +transfixed by a sudden devastating thought. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes… yes,” she breathed. “Some one placed the scarab-pin there… some +one.…” Her voice died out, and a cloud, as of pain, came over her +face. But quickly she drew herself together and, taking a deep breath, +looked resolutely into Vance’s eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Whoever it was that did this terrible thing, I want you to find him.” +Her expression became set and hard. “And I will help you. Do you +understand?—<i>I</i> will help you.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance studied her briefly before replying. +</p> + +<p> +“I believe you will, Mrs. Bliss. And I shall call on you for that +help.” He bowed slightly. “But there is nothing you can do at this +moment. A few prelimin’ry routine things must be done first. In the +meantime, I would appreciate your waiting for us in the +drawing-room—there will be several questions we shall want to ask you +presently.… Hani may accompany you.” +</p> + +<p> +I had been watching the Egyptian with one eye during this little +scene. When Mrs. Bliss had entered the museum he had barely turned in +her direction, but when she had begun speaking to Vance he had moved +silently toward them. He now stood, his arms folded, just behind the +inlaid coffer, with his eyes fixed upon the woman, in an attitude of +protective devotion. +</p> + +<p> +“Come, Meryt-Amen,” he said. “I will remain with you till these +gentlemen wish to consult you. There is nothing to fear. Sakhmet has +had her just revenge, and she is beyond the mundane power of +Occidental law.” +</p> + +<p> +The woman hesitated a moment. Then, going to Bliss, she kissed him +lightly on the forehead, and walked toward the front stairway, Hani +servilely following her. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch06"> +CHAPTER VI.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">A FOUR-HOUR ERRAND</span> +</h3> + +<p class="center"> +(<i>Friday, July 13; 1.15 p.m.</i>) +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett’s eyes followed her with a troubled, sympathetic look. +</p> + +<p> +“Poor girl!” he commented, with a sigh. “You know, Vance, she was +devoted to Kyle—her father and Kyle were great cronies. When old +Abercrombie died Kyle cared for her as though she’d been his +daughter.… This affair is a terrible blow to her.” +</p> + +<p> +“One can well understand that,” Vance murmured perfunctorily. “But she +has Hani to console her.… By the by, doctor, your Egyptian servant +appears to be quite <i>en rapport</i> with Mrs. Bliss.” +</p> + +<p> +“What’s that—what’s that?” Bliss lifted his head and made an effort +at concentration. “Ah, yes… Hani. A faithful dog—where my wife’s +concerned. He practically brought her up, after her father’s death. +He’s never forgiven me for marrying her.” He smiled grimly and lapsed +into a state of brooding despondency. +</p> + +<p> +Heath’s cigar had gone out, but he still chewed viciously on it. +</p> + +<p> +He was standing beside Kyle’s body, his legs apart, his hands in his +pockets, glaring with frustrated animosity at the doctor. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s all this palaver about, anyhow?” he asked sullenly. He faced +Markham. “Listen, Chief: haven’t you got enough evidence for an +indictment?” +</p> + +<p> +Markham was sorely troubled. His instinct was to order Bliss’s arrest, +but his faith in Vance halted him. He knew that Vance was not +satisfied with the situation, and he no doubt felt, as a result of +Vance’s attitude, that there were certain things connected with Kyle’s +murder which did not show on the surface. Moreover, there was perhaps +an uncertainty in his own mind as to the authenticity of the evidence +that pointed to the Egyptologist. +</p> + +<p> +He was on the point of answering Heath when Hennessey put his head in +the door and called out: +</p> + +<p> +“Hey, Sergeant; the buggy from the Department of Public Welfare is +here.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it’s about time.” Heath was in a vicious mood. He turned to +Markham. “Any reason, sir, why we shouldn’t get the body outa the +way?” +</p> + +<p> +Markham glanced toward Vance, who nodded. +</p> + +<p> +“No, Sergeant,” he answered. “The sooner it reaches the mortuary, the +sooner we’ll have the <i>post-mortem</i> report.” +</p> + +<p> +“Right!” Heath cupped his hands to his mouth and bawled to Hennessey: +“Send ’em in.” +</p> + +<p> +A moment later two men—one the driver of the car, the other an +unkempt “pick-up”—came down the stairs carrying a large wicker basket +shaped like a coffin. Without a word they callously lifted Kyle’s body +into it, and started toward the front door with their gruesome burden, +the “pick-up” at the rear end of the basket doing a playful dance step +as he moved across the hardwood floor. +</p> + +<p> +“Sweet sympathetic laddie,” grinned Vance. +</p> + +<p> +With the removal of Kyle’s body a pall seemed to lift from the museum. +But there was still that pool of blood and the recumbent statue of +Sakhmet to tell the terrible story of the tragedy. +</p> + +<p> +Heath stood eyeing the huddled, silent figure of Doctor Bliss. +</p> + +<p> +“Where do we go from here?” His question contained both disgust and +resignation. +</p> + +<p> +Markham was growing restless and, beckoning Vance to one side, spoke +to him in low tones. I could not hear what was said; but Vance talked +earnestly to the District Attorney for several minutes. Markham +listened attentively and then shrugged his shoulders. +</p> + +<p> +“Very well,” he answered, as they strolled back toward us. “But unless +you reach some conclusion pretty soon we’ll have to take action.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Action—oh, my aunt!” Vance sighed deeply. “Always action—always +pyrotechnics. The Rotarian ideal! Get busy—stir things up. +Efficiency! … Why do the powers of justice have to emulate the whirling +dervish? The human brain, after all, has certain functions.” +</p> + +<p> +He paced slowly back and forth in front of the cabinets, his eyes on +the floor, while the rest of us watched him. Even Doctor Bliss roused +himself and gazed at him with a curious and hopeful expression. +</p> + +<p> +“None of these clews ring true, Markham,” Vance said. “There’s +something here that doesn’t meet the eye. It’s like a cypher that says +one thing and means another. I tell you the obvious explanation is the +wrong one.… There’s a key to this affair—somewhere. And it’s staring +us in the face… yet we can’t see it.” +</p> + +<p> +He was deeply perplexed and dissatisfied, and he walked to and fro +with that quiet, disguised alertness which I had long since come to +recognize. +</p> + +<p> +Suddenly he halted in front of the pool of blood before the end +cabinet, and bent over. He studied it for a moment, and then his eyes +moved to the cabinet. Slowly his gaze ascended the partly drawn +curtain and came to rest on the beaded wooden ledge above the curtain +rod. After a while his eyes drifted back to the pool of blood, and I +got the impression that he was measuring distances and trying to +determine the exact relationship between the blood, the cabinet, the +curtain, and the moulding along the top of the shelves. +</p> + +<p> +Presently he straightened up and stood very close to the curtain, his +back to us. +</p> + +<p> +“Really, now, that’s most interestin’,” he murmured. “I wonder.…” +</p> + +<p> +He turned, and, drawing up one of the folding wooden chairs, placed it +directly in front of the cabinet on the exact spot where Kyle’s head +had lain. Then he mounted the chair, and stood for a considerable time +inspecting the top of the cabinet. +</p> + +<p> +“My word! Extr’ordin’ry!” His voice was barely audible. +</p> + +<p> +Taking out his monocle, he placed it in his eye. Then his hand reached +out over the edge of the cabinet, and he picked up something very near +to where Hani said he had placed the small statue of Sakhmet. Just +what it was none of us could see; but presently he slipped the object +into his coat pocket. A moment later he descended from the chair and +faced Markham with a grim, satisfied look. +</p> + +<p> +“This murder has amazin’ possibilities,” he observed. +</p> + +<p> +Before he could explain his cryptic remark Hennessey again appeared at +the head of the stairs and called out to Sergeant Heath: +</p> + +<p> +“There’s a guy here named Salveter who says he wants to see Doc +Bliss.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah—<i>bon</i>!” Vance, for some reason, seemed highly pleased. “Suppose +we have him in, Sergeant.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, sure!” Heath made an elaborate grimace of boredom. “O.K., +Hennessey. Show in the gent. The more the merrier.… What is this, +anyway?” he groused. “A convention?” +</p> + +<p> +Young Salveter walked down the stairs and approached us with a +startled, questioning air. He gave Scarlett a curt, cold nod; then he +caught sight of Vance. +</p> + +<p> +“How do you do?” he said, obviously surprised at Vance’s presence. +“It’s been a long time since I saw you… in Egypt.… What’s all the +excitement about? Have we been invested by the military?” His +pleasantry did not ring true. +</p> + +<p> +Salveter was an earnest, aggressive-looking man of about thirty, with +sandy hair, wide-set gray eyes, a small nose, and a thin, tight mouth. +He was of medium height, stockily built, and might have been an +athlete in his college days. He was dressed simply in a tweed suit +that did not fit him, and the polka-dot tie in his soft-shirt collar +was askew. I doubt if his cordovan blucher oxfords had ever been +polished. My first instinct was to like him. The impression he gave +was that of boyish frankness; but there was a quality in his +make-up,—I could not analyze it at the time,—that signalled to one +to be wary and not attempt to force an issue against his stubbornness. +</p> + +<p> +As he spoke to Vance his eyes shifted with intense curiosity about the +room, as if he were looking for something amiss. +</p> + +<p> +Vance, who had been watching him appraisingly, answered after a slight +pause in a tone that struck me as unnecessarily devoid of sympathy. +</p> + +<p> +“No, it’s not the milit’ry, Mr. Salveter. It’s the police. The fact +is, your uncle is dead—he has been murdered.” +</p> + +<p> +“Uncle Ben!” Salveter appeared stunned by the news; but presently an +angry scowl settled on his forehead. “So—that’s it!” He drew in his +head and squinted pugnaciously at Doctor Bliss. “He had an appointment +with you this morning, sir.… When—and how—did it happen?” +</p> + +<p> +It was Vance, however, who made reply. +</p> + +<p> +“Your uncle, Mr. Salveter, was struck over the head with that statue +of Sakhmet, about ten o’clock. Mr. Scarlett found the body here at the +foot of Anûbis, and notified me. I, in turn, notified the District +Attorney.… This, by the by, is Mr. Markham—and this is Sergeant Heath +of the Homicide Bureau.” +</p> + +<p> +Salveter scarcely glanced in their direction. +</p> + +<p> +“A damned outrage!” he muttered, setting his square, heavy jaw. +</p> + +<p> +“An outrage—yes!” Bliss lifted his head, and his eyes, pitifully +discouraged, met Salveter’s. “It means the end of all our excavations, +my boy——” +</p> + +<p> +“Excavations!” Salveter continued to study the older man. “What do +they matter? I want to lay my hands on the dog who did this thing.” He +swung about aggressively and faced Markham. “What can I do, sir, to +help you?” His eyes were mere slits—he was like a dangerous wild +beast waiting to pounce. +</p> + +<p> +“Too much energy, Mr. Salveter,” Vance drawled, sitting down +indolently. “Far too much energy. I can apprehend exactly how you +feel, don’t y’ know. But aggressiveness, while bein’ a virtue in some +circumstances, is really quite futile in the present situation.… I +say; why not walk round the block vigorously a couple of times, and +then return to us? We crave a bit of polite intercourse with you, but +calmness and self-control are most necess’ry.” +</p> + +<p> +Salveter glared ferociously at Vance, who met his gaze with languid +coldness; and for fully thirty seconds there was an unflinching ocular +clash between them. But I have seen other men attempt to stare Vance +out of countenance—without the least success. His quiet power and +strength of character were colossal, and I would wish no one the task +of outgazing him. +</p> + +<p> +Finally Salveter shrugged his broad shoulders. A slight, compromising +grin flickered along his set mouth. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll pass up the promenade,” he said, with admiring sheepishness. +“Fire away.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance took a deep inhalation on his cigarette, and let his eyes wander +lazily along the great frieze of Pen-ta-Weret’s Rhapsody. +</p> + +<p> +“What time did you leave the house this morning, Mr. Salveter?” +</p> + +<p> +“About half past nine.” Salveter was now standing relaxed, his hands +in his coat pockets. All of his aggressiveness was gone, and, though +he watched Vance closely, there was neither animosity nor tenseness in +his manner. +</p> + +<p> +“And you did not, by any chance, leave the front door unlatched—or +open?” +</p> + +<p> +“No! … Why should I?” +</p> + +<p> +“Really, y’ know, I couldn’t say.” Vance conferred on him a disarming +smile. “A more or less vital question, however. Mr. Scarlett, d’ ye +see, found the door open when he arrived between ten and ten-thirty.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, <i>I</i> didn’t leave it that way.… What next?” +</p> + +<p> +“You went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, I understand.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. I went to inquire about some reproductions of the tomb furniture +of Hotpeheres.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you got the information?” +</p> + +<p> +“I did.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance looked at his watch. +</p> + +<p> +“Twenty-five after one,” he read. “That means you have been absent +about four hours. Did you, by any hap, walk to Eighty-second Street +and back?” +</p> + +<p> +Salveter clamped his teeth tight for a moment, and stared +antagonistically at Vance’s nonchalant figure. +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t walk either way, thank you.” (I could not determine whether +he was merely exerting great self-control or whether he was actually +frightened.) “I took a ’bus up the Avenue, and came back in a taxi.” +</p> + +<p> +“Let us say one hour coming and going, then. That allowed you three +hours to obtain your information, eh, what?” +</p> + +<p> +“Mathematically correct.” Again Salveter grinned savagely. “But it +happened I dropped into the rooms on the right of the entrance to take +a look at Per-nêb’s Tomb. I’d heard recently that they’d added some +objects to their collection of the contents of the burial-chamber.… +Per-nêb, you see, was Fifth Dynasty——” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes.… And as Khufu, Hetep-hir-es’ offspring, belonged to the +preceding dynasty, you were æsthetically interested in the +burial-chamber contents. Quite natural.… And how long did you prowl +and commune among the Per-nêb fragments?” +</p> + +<p> +“See here, Mr. Vance”—Salveter was growing apprehensive—“I don’t +know what you’re trying to get at; but if it’s going to help you in +your investigation of Uncle Ben’s death, I’ll take your gaff.… I hung +around the cabinets in the Egyptian rooms for nearly an hour. Got +interested and didn’t hurry—I knew Uncle Ben had an appointment with +Doctor Bliss this morning, and I figured that if I got back at lunch +time it would be all right.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you didn’t get back at lunch time,” Vance remarked. +</p> + +<p> +“What if I didn’t? I had to cool my feet for nearly an hour in the +Curator’s outer office after I went up-stairs—Mr. Lythgoe was talking +with Lindsley Hall about some drawings. And then I had to hang around +another half hour or so while he was phoning to Doctor Reisner at the +Boston Museum of Fine Arts. I’m lucky to be back now.” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite.… I know how those things are. Very tryin’.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance apparently accepted his story without question. He rose lazily +and drew a small note-book from his pocket, at the same time feeling +in his waistcoat as if for something with which to write. +</p> + +<p> +“Sorry and all that, Mr. Salveter; but could you lend me a pencil? +Mine seems to have disappeared.” +</p> + +<p> +(I immediately became interested, for I knew Vance never carried a +pencil but invariably used a small gold fountain-pen which he always +wore on his watch-chain.) +</p> + +<p> +“Delighted.” Salveter reached in his pocket and held out a long +hexagonal yellow pencil. +</p> + +<p> +Vance took it and made several notations in his book. Then, as he was +about to return the pencil, he paused and looked at the name printed +on it. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, a Mongol No. 1, what?” he said. “Popular pencils, these +Fabers-482.… Do you always use them?” +</p> + +<p> +“Never anything else.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Thanks awfully.” Vance returned the pencil, and dropped the note-book +into his pocket. “And now, Mr. Salveter, I’d appreciate it if you’d go +to the drawing-room and wait for us. We’ll want to question you +again.… Mrs. Bliss, by the by, is there,” he added casually. +</p> + +<p> +Salveter’s eyelids dropped perceptibly, and he gave Vance a swift +sidelong glance. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, is she? Thanks.… I’ll wait for you in the drawing-room.” He went +up to Bliss. “I’m frightfully sorry, sir,” he said. “I know what this +means to you.…” He was going to add something but halted himself. Then +he walked doggedly toward the front door. +</p> + +<p> +He was half-way up the stairs when Vance, who now stood regarding the +statue of Sakhmet meditatively, suddenly turned and called to him. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I say, Mr. Salveter. Tell Hani we’d like to see him here—there’s +a good fellow.” +</p> + +<p> +Salveter made a gesture of assent, and passed through the great steel +door without looking back. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch07"> +CHAPTER VII.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">THE FINGER-PRINTS</span> +</h3> + +<p class="center"> +(<i>Friday, July 13; 1.30 p.m.</i>) +</p> + +<p> +Hani joined us a few moments later. +</p> + +<p> +“I am at your service, gentlemen,” he announced, looking from one to +the other of us superciliously. +</p> + +<p> +Vance had already drawn up a second chair beside the one on which he +had stood during his inspection of the top of the cabinet; and he now +made a beckoning gesture to the Egyptian. +</p> + +<p> +“We appreciate your passionate spirit of co-operation, Hani,” he +replied lightly. “Would you be so amiable as to stand on this chair +and point out to me exactly where you set the statue of Sakhmet +yesterday?” +</p> + +<p> +I was watching Hani closely, and I could have sworn that his eyebrows +contracted slightly. But there was almost no hesitation in his +compliance with Vance’s request. Making a slow, deep bow, he +approached the cabinet. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t put your hands on the woodwork,” Vance admonished. “And don’t +touch the curtain.” +</p> + +<p> +Awkwardly, because of his long flowing kaftan, Hani mounted one of the +chairs; and Vance stepped upon the seat of the other. +</p> + +<p> +The Egyptian squinted for a moment at the top of the cabinet, and then +pointed a bony finger to a spot near the edge, exactly half-way across +the two-and-a-half-foot opening. +</p> + +<p> +“Just here, <i>effendi</i>,” he said. “If you look closely you can see +where the base of Sakhmet disturbed the dust.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, quite.” Vance, though in an attitude of concentration, was +nevertheless studying Hani’s face. “But if one looks even more closely +one can see other disturbances in the dust.” +</p> + +<p> +“The wind, perhaps, from yonder window.…” +</p> + +<p> +Vance chuckled. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Blasen ist nicht flöten, ihr müsst die Finger bewegen</i>—to quote +Goethe figuratively.… Your explanation, Hani, is a bit too poetic.” He +indicated a point near the moulding at the edge of the cabinet. “I +doubt if even your simoon—or, as you may prefer to call it, +samûm<sup><a href="#n14b" id="n14a">[14]</a></sup>—could have made that scratch at the edge of the statue’s +base, what? … Or, it may be, you set down the statue with undue +violence.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is possible, of course—though not likely.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, not likely—considerin’ your superstitious reverence for the +leonine lady.” Vance descended from his perch. “However, Sakhmet seems +to have been standing on the very edge of the cabinet, directly in the +centre, when Mr. Kyle arrived this morning to inspect the new +treasures.” +</p> + +<p> +We had all been watching him with curiosity. Heath and Markham were +especially interested, and Scarlett—frowning and immobile—had not +taken his eyes from Vance. Even Bliss, who had seemed utterly broken +by the tragedy and in a state of complete hopelessness, had followed +the episode with intentness. That Vance had discovered something of +importance was evident. I knew him too well to underestimate his +persistence, and I waited, with a sense of inner excitation, for the +time when he would share his new knowledge with us. +</p> + +<p> +Markham, however, voiced his impatience. +</p> + +<p> +“What have you in mind, Vance?” he asked irritably. “This is hardly +the time to be secretive and dramatic.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m merely delving into the subtler possibilities of this inveiglin’ +case,” he replied, in an offhand manner. “I’m a complex soul, Markham +old dear. I don’t, alas! possess a simple, forthright nature. I’m a +sworn enemy of the obvious and the trite.… You remember what the heart +of the young man said to the Psalmist?—‘Things are not what they +seem.’ ” +</p> + +<p> +Markham had long since come to understand this kind of evasive +garrulousness on Vance’s part, and no further question was asked. +Moreover, there was an interruption at this moment, which was to place +an even more complicated and more sinister aspect on the entire case. +</p> + +<p> +The front door was opened by Hennessey, and Captain Dubois and +Detective Bellamy, the finger-print experts, clattered down the +stairs. +</p> + +<p> +“Sorry to keep you waiting, Sergeant,” Dubois said, shaking hands with +Heath; “but I was tied up with a safe-breaking job on Fulton Street.” +He looked about him. “How d’ ye do, Mr. Markham?” He extended his hand +to the District Attorney.… “And Mr. Vance, is it?” Dubois spoke +civilly but without enthusiasm: I believe his tiff with Vance during +the “Canary” murder case still rankled in him. +</p> + +<p> +“There ain’t much of a job for you here, Captain,” Heath interrupted +impatiently. “The only thing I want you to check up on is that black +statue laying there.” +</p> + +<p> +Dubois at once became seriously professional. +</p> + +<p> +“That won’t take long,” he muttered, bending over the diorite figure +of Sakhmet. “What might it be, Sergeant?—one of those Futuristic +works of art that don’t mean anything?” +</p> + +<p> +“It don’t mean anything to me,” the Sergeant growled, “unless you can +find some nice identifiable prints on it.” +</p> + +<p> +Dubois grunted and snapped his fingers toward his assistant. Bellamy, +who had stood imperturbably in the background during the exchange of +greetings, came ponderously forward and opened a black hand-bag which +he had brought with him. Dubois, using a large handkerchief and the +palms of his hands, carefully lifted the statue and placed it upright +on the seat of a chair. Then he reached in the hand-bag and took out +an insufflator, or tiny hand-bellows, and puffed a fine pale-saffron +powder over the entire figure. Following this operation, he gently +blew away all the surplus powder, and fixing a jeweller’s-glass in his +eye, knelt down and made a close inspection of every part of the +statue. +</p> + +<p> +Hani had watched the performance with the keenest interest. He had +slowly moved toward the finger-print men until now he stood within a +few feet of them. His eyes were concentrated on their labors, and his +hands, which hung at his sides, were tightly flexed. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ll find no finger-prints of mine on Sakhmet, gentlemen,” he +proclaimed in a low, tense voice. “I polished them off.… Nor will +there be any finger-prints to guide you. The Goddess of Vengeance +strikes of her own volition and power, and no human hands are needed +to assist her in her acts of justice.” +</p> + +<p> +Heath threw the Egyptian a glance of scathing contempt; but Vance +turned in his direction with a considerable show of interest. +</p> + +<p> +“How do you know, Hani,” he asked, “that your sign-manuals will not +appear on the statue? It was you who placed it upon the cabinet +yesterday.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, <i>effendi</i>,” the man answered, without taking his eyes from +Dubois. “I placed it there—but with reverence. I rubbed and polished +it from top to bottom when it was unpacked. And then I took it in my +hands and stood it on the top of the cabinet, as Bliss <i>effendi</i> had +directed. But when it was in place I could see where my hands had made +marks upon its polished surface; and again I rubbed it with a chamois +cloth so that it would be pure and untouched while the spirit of +Sakhmet looked down sorrowfully over the stolen treasures of this +room.… There was no mark or print on it when I left it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, my friend, there’s finger-prints on it now,” declared Dubois +unemotionally. He had taken out a powerful magnifying glass and was +centring his gaze on the thick ankles of the statue. “And they’re damn +clear prints, too.… Looks to me like they’d been made by some guy +who’d lifted up this statue.… Both hands show around the ankles.… Pass +me the camera, Bellamy.” +</p> + +<p> +Bliss had paid scant heed to the entrance of the finger-print men, but +when Hani had begun to speak, he had roused himself from his +despondent lethargy and concentrated his attention on the Egyptian. +Then, when Dubois had announced the presence of finger-prints, he had +stared, with terrible intentness, at the statue. A startling change +had come over him. He was like a man in the grip of some consuming +fear; and before Dubois had finished speaking he leapt to his feet and +stood in a frozen attitude of stark horror. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>God help me!</i>” he cried; and the sound of his voice sent a chill +over me. “Those are <i>my</i> finger-prints on that statue!” +</p> + +<p> +The effect of this admission was dumbfounding. Even Vance seemed +momentarily shaken out of his habitual calm, and going to a small +standard ash-tray he abstractedly crushed out his cigarette, though he +had smoked less than half of it. +</p> + +<p> +Heath was the first to break the electric silence that followed +Bliss’s cry of anguish. He took his dead cigar from his lips, and +thrust out his chin. +</p> + +<p> +“Sure, they’re your finger-prints!” he snapped unpleasantly. “Who +else’s would they be?” +</p> + +<p> +“Just a moment, Sergeant!” Vance had wholly recovered himself, and his +voice was casual. “Finger-prints can be very misleadin’, don’t y’ +know. And a few digital signatures on a lethal weapon don’t mean that +their author is necessarily a murderer. It’s most important, d’ ye +see, to ascertain when and under what circumstances the signatures +were made.” +</p> + +<p> +He approached Bliss, who had remained staring at the statue of Sakhmet +like a stricken man. +</p> + +<p> +“I say, doctor;”—he had assumed an easy, offhand manner—“how do you +know those finger-prints are yours?” +</p> + +<p> +“How do I know?” Bliss repeated the question in a resigned, colorless +tone. He appeared to have aged before our very eyes; and his white, +sunken cheeks made him resemble a death’s-head. “Because—oh, my +God!—because I made them! … I made them last night—or, rather, early +this morning, before I turned in. I took hold of the statue—around +the ankles—exactly where that gentleman says there are the marks of +two hands.” +</p> + +<p> +“And how did you happen to do that, doctor?” Vance asked quietly. +</p> + +<p> +“I did it without thought—I’d even forgotten doing it till the +finger-prints were mentioned.” Bliss spoke with feverish earnestness: +he seemed to feel that his very life depended on his being believed. +“When I had finished arranging all the figures of the report early +this morning, at about three o’clock, I came down here to the museum. +I’d told Kyle about the new shipment, and I wanted to make sure that +everything was in order for his inspection.… You see, Mr. Vance, a +great deal depended on the impression the new treasures made on him.… +I looked over the items in that end cabinet, and then re-drew the +curtain. Just as I was about to depart I noticed that the statue of +Sakhmet had not been placed evenly on the top of the cabinet—it was +not in the exact centre, and was slightly sidewise. So I reached up +and straightened it—taking hold of it by the ankles.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Pardon me for intruding, Vance,”—Scarlett, a troubled look on his +face, had stepped forward—“but I can assure you that such an act was +quite natural with Doctor Bliss. He’s a stickler for orderliness—it’s +a good-natured joke among the rest of us. We never dare leave anything +out of place: he’s constantly criticising us and rearranging things +after us.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance nodded. +</p> + +<p> +“Then, as I understand you, Scarlett, if a statue was left a bit +askew, it would be practically inevitable that Doctor Bliss, on seeing +it, would set it right.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—I think that’s a reasonable conclusion.” +</p> + +<p> +“Many thanks.” Vance turned again to Bliss. “Your explanation is that +you adjusted the statue of Sakhmet, by taking hold of its ankles, and +forthwith went to bed?” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s the truth—so help me God!” The man searched Vance’s eyes +eagerly. “I turned out the lights and went up-stairs. And I’ve not set +foot in the museum till you knocked on my study door.” +</p> + +<p> +Heath was obviously not satisfied with this story. It was plain that +he had no intention of relinquishing his belief in Bliss’s guilt. +</p> + +<p> +“The trouble with that alibi,” he retorted doggedly, “is that you +haven’t got any witnesses. And it’s the sort of alibi any one would +pull when they’d got caught with the goods.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham diplomatically intervened. He himself was patently not +convinced one way or the other. +</p> + +<p> +“I think, Sergeant,” he said, “that it might be advisable to have +Captain Dubois verify the identity of those finger-prints. We’ll at +least know definitely then if the prints are the ones Doctor Bliss +made.… Can you do that now, Captain?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure thing.” +</p> + +<p> +Dubois reached in the hand-bag and drew forth a tiny inked roller, a +narrow glass slab, and a small paper pad. +</p> + +<p> +“I guess the thumbs’ll be enough,” he said. “There’s only one set of +hands showing on the statue.” +</p> + +<p> +He ran the inked roller over the glass slab, and going to Bliss, asked +him to hold out his hands. +</p> + +<p> +“Press your thumbs on the ink and then put ’em down on this paper,” he +ordered. +</p> + +<p> +Bliss complied without a word; and when the impressions had been made +Dubois again placed the jeweller’s-glass in his eye and inspected the +marks. +</p> + +<p> +“Looks like ’em,” he commented. “Ulnar loops—same like those on the +statue.… Anyhow, I’ll check ’em.” +</p> + +<p> +He knelt down beside the statue and held the pad close to its ankles. +For a minute or so he studied the two sets of finger-prints. +</p> + +<p> +“They match,” he announced at length. “No doubt about it.… And there +ain’t another visible mark on the statue. This gentleman”—he gestured +contemptuously toward Bliss—“is the only person who’s laid hands on +the statue, so far as I can see.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s bully with me,” grinned Heath. “Let me have the enlargements +as soon as you can—I got a feeling I’m going to need ’em.” He took +out a fresh cigar and bit the end off with gloating satisfaction. “I +guess that’ll be all, Captain. Many thanks.… Now you can go and +victual up.” +</p> + +<p> +“And let me tell you I need it.” Dubois passed his camera and +paraphernalia to Bellamy, who packed them with stodgy precision; and +the two of them walked noisily out of the museum. +</p> + +<p> +Heath finally got his cigar going, and for several moments stood +puffing on it voluptuously, one eye cocked at Vance. +</p> + +<p> +“That sorta sews things up—don’t it, sir?” he asked. “Or maybe you’ve +swallowed the doctor’s alibi.” He addressed himself to Markham. “I put +it up to you, sir. There’s only one set of finger-prints on that +statue; and if those prints were made last night, I’d like to have +somebody drive up in a hearse and tell me what became of the +finger-prints of the bird who cracked Kyle over the head. Kyle was hit +with the top of the statue, and whoever did it musta had hold of it by +the legs.… Now, Mr. Markham, I ask you: is any one going to rub off +his own finger-prints and leave those of the doctor? He couldn’t have +done it if he’d wanted to.” +</p> + +<p> +Before Markham could reply, Vance spoke. +</p> + +<p> +“How do you know, Sergeant, that the person who killed Mr. Kyle +actually wielded the statue?” +</p> + +<p> +Heath gave Vance a look of amazement. +</p> + +<p> +“Say! You don’t seriously think, do you, that this lion-headed dame +did the job by herself—like this Yogi says?” He jerked his thumb at +Hani without turning his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“No, Sergeant.” Vance shook his head. “I haven’t yet gone in for the +supernatural. And I don’t think the murderer erased his finger-prints +and left those of Doctor Bliss. But I do think, d’ ye see, that +there’s some explanation which will account for all the contradict’ry +phases of this astonishin’ case.” +</p> + +<p> +“Maybe there is.” Heath felt that he could be tolerant and +magnanimous. “But I’m pinning my opinion on finger-prints and tangible +evidence.” +</p> + +<p> +“A very dangerous procedure, Sergeant,” Vance told him, with unwonted +seriousness. “I doubt if you could ever get a conviction against +Doctor Bliss on the evidence you possess. It’s far too obvious—too +imbecile. You’re bogged with an <i>embarras de richesse</i>—meanin’ that +no sane man would commit a crime and leave so many silly bits of +damnin’ evidence around.… And I believe Mr. Markham will agree with +me.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not so sure,” said Markham dubiously. “There’s something in what +you say, Vance; but on the other hand——” +</p> + +<p> +“Excuse <i>me</i>, gentlemen!” Heath had suddenly become animated. “I gotta +see Hennessey—I’ll be back in a minute.” And he stalked with vigorous +determination to the front door and disappeared. +</p> + +<p> +Bliss, to all appearances, had taken no interest in this discussion of +his possible guilt. He had sunk back in his chair, where he sat +staring resignedly at the floor—a tragic, broken figure. When the +Sergeant had left us he moved his head slowly toward Vance. +</p> + +<p> +“Your detective is fully justified in his opinion,” he said. “I can +see his point of view. Everything is against me—everything!” His +tone, though flat and colorless, was bitter. “If only I hadn’t fallen +asleep this morning, I’d know the meaning of all this.… My scarab-pin, +that financial report, those finger-prints.…” He shook his head like +a man in a daze. “It’s damnable—damnable!” His trembling hands went +to his face, and he placed his elbows on his knees, bending forward in +an attitude of utter despair. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s too damnable, doctor,” Vance replied soothingly. “Therein lies +our hope of a solution.” +</p> + +<p> +Again he walked to the cabinet and remained for some time in +<i>distrait</i> contemplation. Hani had returned to his ascetic adoration +of Teti-shiret; and Scarlett, frowning and unhappy, was pacing +nervously up and down between the delicate state chair and the shelves +holding the <i>shawabtis</i>. Markham stood in a brown study, his hands +clasped behind him, gazing at the shaft of sunshine which had fallen +diagonally through the high rear windows. +</p> + +<p> +I noted that Hennessey had silently entered the main door and taken +his post on the stair landing, one hand resting ominously in his right +coat pocket. +</p> + +<p> +Then the little metal door at the head of the iron spiral stairs swung +open, and Heath appeared at the entrance to Doctor Bliss’s study. One +hand was behind him, out of sight, as he descended to the floor of the +museum. He walked directly to Bliss and stood for a moment glowering +grimly at the man whose guilt he believed in. Suddenly his hand shot +forward—it was holding a white canvas tennis shoe. +</p> + +<p> +“That yours, doctor?” he barked. +</p> + +<p> +Bliss gazed at the shoe with perplexed astonishment. +</p> + +<p> +“Why… yes. Certainly it’s mine.…” +</p> + +<p> +“You bet your sweet life it’s yours!” The Sergeant strode to Markham +and held up the sole of the shoe for inspection. I was standing at the +District Attorney’s side, and I saw that the rubber sole was +criss-crossed with ridges and that there was a pattern of small hollow +circles on the heel. But that which sent an icy breath of horror +through me was the fact that the entire sole was red with dried blood. +</p> + +<p> +“I found that shoe in the study, Mr. Markham,” Heath was saying. “It +was wrapped in a newspaper at the bottom of the waste-basket, covered +up with all kinds of trash… hidden!” +</p> + +<p> +It was several moments before Markham spoke. His eyes moved from the +shoe to Bliss and back again; finally they rested on Vance. +</p> + +<p> +“I think that clinches it.” His voice was resolute. “I have no +alternative in the matter now——” +</p> + +<p> +Bliss sprang to his feet and hurried toward the Sergeant, his +hypnotized gaze fastened on the shoe. +</p> + +<p> +“What is it?” he cried. “What has that shoe to do with Kyle’s death… ?” +He caught sight of the blood. “Oh, God in Heaven!” he moaned. +</p> + +<p> +Vance placed his hand on the man’s shoulder. +</p> + +<p> +“Sergeant Heath found footprints here, doctor. They were made by one +of your canvas shoes.…” +</p> + +<p> +“How can that be?” Bliss’s fascinated eyes were riveted on the bloody +sole. “I left those shoes up-stairs in my bedroom last night, and I +came down this morning in my slippers.… <i>There’s something diabolical +going on in this house.</i>” +</p> + +<p> +“Something diabolical, yes!—something unspeakably devilish.… And rest +assured, Doctor Bliss, I am going to find out what it is.…” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sorry, Vance,” Markham’s stern voice rang forth ominously. “I +know you don’t believe Doctor Bliss is guilty. But I have a duty to +perform. I’d be betraying the people who elected me if, in view of the +evidence, I didn’t take action.—And, after all, you may be wrong.” +(He said this with the kindliness of an old friend.) “In any event, my +duty is clear.” +</p> + +<p> +He nodded to Heath. +</p> + +<p> +“Sergeant, place Doctor Bliss under arrest, and charge him with the +murder of Benjamin H. Kyle.” +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch08"> +CHAPTER VIII.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">IN THE STUDY</span> +</h3> + +<p class="center"> +(<i>Friday, July 13; 2 p.m.</i>) +</p> + +<p> +I had often seen Vance in crucial moments of violent disagreement with +Markham’s judgment, but, whatever his feelings had been, he had always +assumed a cynical and nonchalant attitude. Now, however, no lightness +or playfulness marked his manner. He was grim and serious: a deep +frown had settled on his forehead, and a look of baffled exasperation +had come into his cold gray eyes. He compressed his lips tightly and +crammed his hands deep into his coat pockets. I expected him to +protest vigorously against Markham’s action, but he remained silent, +and I realized that he was confronted by one of the most difficult and +unusual problems in his career. +</p> + +<p> +His eyes drifted from Bliss to the immobile back of Hani and rested +there. But they were unseeing eyes—eyes that were turned inward as if +seeking for some means of counteracting the drastic step about to be +taken against the great Egyptologist. +</p> + +<p> +Heath, on the contrary, was elated. A grin of satisfaction had +overspread his dour face at Markham’s order, and without moving from +in front of Bliss, he called stridently to the ominous figure of the +detective on the stair landing. +</p> + +<p> +“Hey, Hennessey! Tell Snitkin to phone Precinct Station 8 for a +wagon.… Then go out back and get Emery, and bring him in here.” +</p> + +<p> +Hennessey disappeared, and Heath stood watching Bliss like a cat, as +though he expected the doctor to make a dash for liberty. Had the +situation not been so tragic the Sergeant’s attitude would have +appeared humorous. +</p> + +<p> +“You needn’t book and finger-print the doctor at the local station,” +Markham told him. “Send him direct to Headquarters. I’ll assume all +responsibility.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s fine with me, sir.” The Sergeant seemed greatly pleased. “I’ll +want to talk confidentially with this baby myself later on.” +</p> + +<p> +Bliss, once the blow had fallen, had drawn himself together. He sat +upright, his head thrown slightly back, his eyes gazing defiantly out +of the rear windows. There was no cowering, no longer any fear, in his +manner. Faced with the inevitable, he had apparently decided to accept +it with stoical intrepidity. I could not help admiring the man’s +fortitude in extremity. +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett stood like a man paralyzed, his mouth hanging partly open, +his eyes fixed on his employer with a kind of unbelieving horror. +Hani, of all the persons in the room, was the least perturbed: he had +not even turned round from his rapt contemplation of Teti-shiret. +</p> + +<p> +Vance, after several moments, dropped his chin on his chest, and his +perplexed frown deepened. Then, as if on sudden impulse, he swung +about and walked to the end cabinet. He stood absorbed, leaning +against the statue of Anûbis; but soon his head moved slowly up and +down and from side to side as he inspected various parts of the +cabinet and its partly-drawn curtain. +</p> + +<p> +Presently he came back to Heath. +</p> + +<p> +“Sergeant, let me have another look at that tennis slipper.” His voice +was low and strained. +</p> + +<p> +Heath, without relaxing his vigilance, reached in his pocket and held +out the shoe. Vance took it and, again adjusting his monocle, +scrutinized the sole. Then he returned the shoe to the Sergeant. +</p> + +<p> +“By the by,” he said; “the doctor has more than one foot.… What about +the other slipper?” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t look for it,” snapped Heath. “This one was enough for me. +It’s the right shoe—the one that made the footprints.” +</p> + +<p> +“So it is.” Vance’s drawl informed me that his mind was more at ease. +“Still, I could bear to know where the other shoe is.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll find it—don’t worry, sir.” Heath spoke with contemptuous +cocksureness. “I’ve got a little investigating to do as soon as I get +the doctor safely booked at Headquarters.” +</p> + +<p> +“Typical police procedure,” murmured Vance. “Book your man and then +investigate. A sweet practice.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham was ruffled by this comment. +</p> + +<p> +“It seems to me, Vance,” he remarked with angry dignity, “that the +investigation has already led to something fairly definite. Whatever +else we find will be in the nature of supplementary evidence.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, will it, now? Fancy that!” Vance smiled tauntingly. “I observe +you’ve gone in for fortune-telling. Do you crystal-gaze in your +moments of leisure, by any chance? … I myself am not what you’d call +clairvoyant, but, Markham old dear, I can read the future better than +you. And I assure you that when this investigation is continued there +will be no supplement’ry evidence against Doctor Bliss. Indeed, you’ll +be amazed at what will turn up.” +</p> + +<p> +He came nearer to the District Attorney and dropped his scoffing tone. +</p> + +<p> +“Can’t you see, Markham, that you’re playing into the murderer’s +hands? The person who killed Kyle planned the affair so you’d do +exactly what you are doing.… And, as I’ve already told you, you’ll +never get a conviction with the preposterous evidence you have.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll come mighty close to it,” Markham retorted. “In any event, my +duty is plain. I’ll have to take a chance on the conviction.… But for +once, Vance, I think you’ve permitted your theories to override a +simple, obvious fact.” +</p> + +<p> +Before Vance could reply Hennessey and Emery came into the museum. +</p> + +<p> +“Here, boys,” the Sergeant ordered, “take this bird up-stairs and get +some clothes on him, and bring him back here. Make it snappy.” +</p> + +<p> +Bliss went out between the two detectives. +</p> + +<p> +Markham turned to Scarlett. +</p> + +<p> +“You’d better wait in the drawing-room. I’ll want to question every +one, and I think you can give us some of the information we want.… And +take Hani with you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll be glad to do what I can.” Scarlett spoke in an awed voice. “But +you’re making a terrible mistake——” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll settle that point for myself,” Markham interrupted coldly. “Be +good enough to wait in the drawing-room.” +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett and Hani walked slowly up the museum and passed out through +the great steel door. +</p> + +<p> +Vance had gone to the front of the spiral stairs and was pacing up and +down with suppressed anxiety. A tense atmosphere had settled over the +room. No one spoke. Heath was inspecting the small statue of Sakhmet +with forced curiosity; and Markham had lapsed into a state of solemn +abstraction. +</p> + +<p> +A few minutes later Hennessey and Emery returned with Doctor Bliss in +street clothes. They had hardly reached the rear of the museum when +Snitkin put his head in the front door and called: +</p> + +<p> +“The wagon’s here, Sergeant.” +</p> + +<p> +Bliss turned immediately, and the two detectives swung about alertly. +The three men had taken only a few steps when Vance’s voice cracked +out like a whip. +</p> + +<p> +“Stop!” He looked squarely at Markham. “You can’t do this! The thing +is a farce. You’re making an unutterable ass of yourself.” +</p> + +<p> +I had never seen Vance so fiery—he was quite unlike his usual frigid +self—and Markham was noticeably taken aback. +</p> + +<p> +“Give me ten minutes,” Vance hurried on. “There’s something I want to +find out—there’s an experiment I want to make. Then, if you’re not +satisfied, you can go ahead with this imbecile arrest.” +</p> + +<p> +Heath’s face grew red with anger. +</p> + +<p> +“Look here, Mr. Markham,” he protested; “we’ve got the goods——” +</p> + +<p> +“Just a minute, Sergeant.” Markham held up his hand: he had obviously +been impressed by Vance’s unusual earnestness. “Ten minutes is not +going to make any material difference. And if Mr. Vance has any +evidence we don’t know of, we might as well learn it now.” He turned +brusquely to Vance. “What’s on your mind? I’m willing to give you ten +minutes.… Has your request anything to do with what you found on top +of the cabinet and put in your pocket?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, a great deal.” Vance had again assumed his habitual easy-going +manner. “And many thanks for the respite.… I’d suggest, however, that +these two myrmidons take the doctor into the front hall and hold him +there for further instructions.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham, after a brief hesitation, nodded to Heath, who gave Hennessey +and Emery the necessary order. +</p> + +<p> +When we were alone Vance turned toward the spiral stairs. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Imprimis</i>,” he said almost gaily, “I passionately desire to make a +curs’ry inspection of the doctor’s study. I’ve a premonition that we +will find something there of the most entrancin’ interest.” +</p> + +<p> +He was now half-way up the stairs, with Markham, Heath and me +following. +</p> + +<p> +The study was a spacious room, about twenty feet square. It had two +large windows at the rear and a smaller window on the east side giving +on a narrow court. There were several massive embayed bookcases about +the walls; and stacked in the corners were piles of paper pamphlets +and cardboard folders. Along the wall which contained the door leading +into the hall, stretched a long divan. Between the two rear windows +stood a large flat-topped mahogany desk, before which was a cushioned +swivel chair. Several other chairs were drawn up about the +desk—evidences of the conference that had been held the previous +night. +</p> + +<p> +It was an orderly room, and there was a striking neatness about all of +its appointments. Even the papers and books on the desk were carefully +arranged, attesting to Bliss’s meticulous nature. The only untidiness +in the study was where Heath had upset the wicker waste-basket in his +search for the tennis shoe. The curtains of the rear windows were up, +and the afternoon sunlight flooded in. +</p> + +<p> +Vance stood for a while just inside the door glancing slowly about +him. His eyes tarried for a moment on the disposition of the chairs, +but more especially, I thought, on the doctor’s swivel seat, which +stood several feet away from the desk. He looked at the heavily padded +hall door, and let his gaze rest on the drawn curtain of the side +window. After a pause he went to the window and raised the shade,—the +window was shut. +</p> + +<p> +“Rather strange,” he commented. “A torrid day like this—and the +window closed. Bear that in mind, Markham.… You observe, of course, +that there’s a window opposite, in the next house.” +</p> + +<p> +“What possible significance could that have?” asked Markham irritably. +</p> + +<p> +“I haven’t the foggiest notion, don’t y’ know.… Unless,” Vance added +whimsically, “something went on in here that the occupant—or +occupants—of the room didn’t wish the neighbors to know about. The +trees in the yard completely preclude any spying through the rear +windows.” +</p> + +<p> +“Huh! That looks like a point in our favor,” Heath rejoined. “The doc +shuts the side window and pulls the shade down so’s nobody’ll hear him +going in and out of the museum, or’ll see him hiding the shoe.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance nodded. +</p> + +<p> +“Your reasoning, Sergeant, is good as far as it goes. But you might +carry the equation to one more decimal point. Why, for instance, +didn’t your guilty doctor open the window and throw up the shade after +the dire deed was done? Why should he leave another obvious clew +indicating his guilt?” +</p> + +<p> +“Guys who commit murder, Mr. Vance,” argued the Sergeant pugnaciously, +“don’t think of everything.” +</p> + +<p> +“The trouble with this crime,” Vance returned quietly, “is that the +murderer thought of too many things. He erred on the side of +prodigality, so to speak.” +</p> + +<p> +He stepped to the desk. On one end lay a low starched turn-over collar +with a dark-blue four-in-hand pulled through it. +</p> + +<p> +“Behold,” he said, “the doctor’s collar and cravat which he removed +last night during the conference. The scarab pin was in the cravat. +Any one might have taken it—eh, what?” +</p> + +<p> +“So you remarked before.” Markham’s tone held a note of bored sarcasm. +“Did you bring us here to show us the necktie? Scarlett told us it was +here. Forgive me, Vance, if I confess that I am not stunned by your +discovery.” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I didn’t lead you here to exhibit the doctor’s neckwear.” Vance +spoke with calm assurance. “I merely mentioned the four-in-hand <i>en +passant</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +He brushed the spilled papers of the waste-basket back and forth with +his foot. +</p> + +<p> +“I am rather anxious to know where the doctor’s other tennis shoe is. +I have a feelin’ its whereabouts might tell us something.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it ain’t in the basket,” declared Heath. “If it had been I’d +have found it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! But, Sergeant, why wasn’t it in the basket? That’s a point worth +considerin’, don’t y’ know.” +</p> + +<p> +“Maybe it didn’t have any blood on it. And that being the case, there +wasn’t any use in hiding it.” +</p> + +<p> +“But, my word! It strikes me that the blameless left shoe is hidden +even better than was the incriminatin’ right shoe.” (During the +discussion Vance had made a fairly thorough search of the study for +the missing tennis shoe.) “It’s certainly not round here.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham, for the first time since we quitted the museum, showed signs +of interest. +</p> + +<p> +“I see your point, Vance,” he conceded reluctantly. “The telltale shoe +was hidden here in the study, and the other one has disappeared.… I +admit that’s rather odd. What’s your explanation?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I say! Let’s locate the shoe before we indulge in speculation.…” +Vance then addressed himself to Heath. “Sergeant, if you should get +Brush to conduct you to Doctor Bliss’s bedchamber, I’m rather inclined +to think you’ll find the missing shoe there. You remember the doctor +said he wore his tennis shoes up-stairs last night and came down this +morning in his house slippers.” +</p> + +<p> +“Huh!” Heath scouted the suggestion. Then he gave Vance a sharp, +calculating look. After a moment he changed his mind. Shrugging his +shoulders in capitulation, he went swiftly out into the hall, and we +could hear him calling down the rear stairs for the butler. +</p> + +<p> +“If the Sergeant finds the shoe up-stairs,” Vance observed to Markham, +“it will be fairly conclusive evidence that the doctor didn’t wear his +tennis shoes this morning; for we know that he did not return to his +bedroom after descending to his study before breakfast.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham looked perplexed. +</p> + +<p> +“Then who brought the other shoe from his room this morning? And how +did it get in the waste-basket? And how did it become blood-stained? … +Surely the murderer wore the shoe that Heath found here.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes—there can be no doubt of that.” Vance nodded gravely. “And +my theory is that the murderer wore only the one tennis shoe and left +the other up-stairs.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham clicked his tongue with annoyance. +</p> + +<p> +“Such a theory doesn’t make sense.” +</p> + +<p> +“Forgive me, Markham, for disagreeing with you,” Vance returned +dulcetly. “But I think it makes more sense than the clews on which +you’re so trustfully counting to convict the doctor.” +</p> + +<p> +Heath burst into the room at this moment, holding the left tennis shoe +in his hand. His expression was sheepish, but his eyes blinked with +excitement. +</p> + +<p> +“It was there, all right,” he announced, “—at the foot of the bed.… +Now, how did it get there?” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps,” softly suggested Vance, “the doctor wore it up-stairs last +night, as he said.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then how the hell did the other shoe get down here?” The Sergeant was +now holding the two shoes, one in each hand, staring at them in +wrathful bewilderment. +</p> + +<p> +“If you knew who brought that other shoe down-stairs this morning,” +returned Vance, “you’d know who killed Kyle.” Then he added: “Not that +it would do us any particular good at the present moment.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham had been standing scowling at the floor and smoking furiously. +The shoe episode had disconcerted him. But now he looked up and made +an impatient gesture. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re making a mountain out of this affair, Vance,” he asserted +aggressively. “A number of simple explanations suggest themselves. The +most plausible one seems to be that Doctor Bliss, when he came +down-stairs this morning, picked up his tennis shoes to have them +handy in his study, and in his nervousness—or merely +accidentally—dropped one, or even failed to pick both of them up, and +did not discover the fact until he was here——” +</p> + +<p> +“And then,” continued Vance, with a japish grin, “he took off one +slipper and put on the tennis shoe, murdered Kyle, re-exchanged it for +his temporarily discarded slipper, and tucked the tennis shoe in the +waste-basket.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s possible.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance sighed audibly. +</p> + +<p> +“Possible—yes. I suppose that almost anything is possible in this +illogical world. But really, Markham, I can’t subscribe +enthusiastically to your touchin’ theory of the doctor’s having picked +up one shoe instead of two and not having known the difference. He’s +much too orderly and methodical—too conscious of details.” +</p> + +<p> +“Let us assume then,” Markham persisted, “that the doctor actually +wore one tennis shoe and one bedroom slipper when he came to the study +this morning. Scarlett told us his feet troubled him a great deal.” +</p> + +<p> +“If that hypothesis is correct,” countered Vance, “how did the other +bedroom slipper get down-stairs? He would hardly have put it in his +pocket and carried it along.” +</p> + +<p> +“Brush perhaps.…” +</p> + +<p> +Heath had been following the discussion closely, and now he went into +action. +</p> + +<p> +“We can check that point <i>pronto</i>, Mr. Vance,” he said; and going +briskly to the hall door, he called down the stairs to the butler. +</p> + +<p> +But no help came from Brush. He declared that neither he nor any +member of the household had been near the study after Bliss had gone +there at eight o’clock, with the one exception of the time when he +carried the doctor’s breakfast to him. When asked what shoes the +doctor was wearing, Brush answered that he had taken no notice. +</p> + +<p> +When the butler had gone Vance shrugged his shoulders. +</p> + +<p> +“Let’s not fume and whirret ourselves over the mysteriously separated +pair of tennis shoes. My prim’ry reason for luring you to the study +was to inspect the remains of the doctor’s breakfast.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham gave a perceptible start, and his eyes narrowed. +</p> + +<p> +“Good Heavens! You don’t believe… ? I’ll confess I thought of it, too. +But then came all that other evidence.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Thought of what, sir?” Heath was frankly exasperated, and his tone +was irritable. +</p> + +<p> +“Both Mr. Markham and I,” explained Vance soothingly, “noted the dazed +condition of Doctor Bliss when he appeared this morning in answer to +my continued pounding on the door.” +</p> + +<p> +“He’d been asleep. Didn’t he tell us so?” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite. And that’s why I’m so dashed interested in his matutinal +coffee.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance walked to the end of the desk upon which rested a small silver +tray containing a rack of toast and a cup and saucer. The toast had +not been touched, but the cup was practically empty. Only the +congealed brown dregs of what had evidently been coffee remained in +the bottom. Vance leant over and looked into the cup. Then he lifted +it to his nose. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s a slightly acrid odor here,” he remarked. +</p> + +<p> +He touched the tip of his finger to the inside of the cup and placed +it on his tongue. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes! … Just what I thought,” he nodded, setting the cup down. “Opium. +And it’s powdered opium—the kind commonly used in Egypt. The other +forms and derivatives of opium—such as laudanum, morphine, heroin, +thebain, and codein—are not easily obtainable there.” +</p> + +<p> +Heath had come forward and stood peering belligerently into the cup. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, suppose there was opium in the coffee,” he rumbled. “What does +that mean?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, who knows?” Vance was lighting a cigarette, his eyes in space. +“It might, of course, account for the doctor’s long siesta this +morning and for his confused condition when he answered my knock. +Also, it might indicate that some one narcotized his coffee for a +purpose. The fact is, Sergeant, the opium in the doctor’s coffee might +mean various things. At the present moment I’m expressing no opinion. +I’m merely calling Mr. Markham’s attention to the drug.… I’ll say +this, however: as soon as I saw the doctor this morning and observed +the way he acted, I guessed that there would be evidences of an opiate +in the study. And, being fairly familiar with conditions in Egypt, I +surmised that the opiate would prove to be powdered opium—<i>opii +pulvis</i>. Opium makes one very thirsty: that is why I wasn’t in the +least astonished when the doctor asked for a drink of water.” He +looked at Markham. “Does this discovery of the opium affect the +doctor’s legal status?” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s certainly a strong point in his favor,” Markham returned after +several moments. +</p> + +<p> +That he was deeply perplexed was only too apparent. But he was loath +to forgo his belief in Bliss’s guilt; and when he spoke again it was +obvious that he was arguing desperately against Vance’s new discovery. +</p> + +<p> +“I realize that the presence of the opium will have to be explained +away before a conviction can be assured. But, on the other hand, we +don’t know how much opium he took. Nor do we know when he took it. He +may have drunk the coffee <i>after</i> the murder—we have only his word +that he drank it at nine o’clock.… No, it certainly doesn’t affect the +fundamental issue—though it does raise a very grave question. But the +evidence against him is too strong to be counterbalanced by this one +point in his favor. Surely, you must see, Vance, that the mere +presence of opium in that cup is not conclusive evidence that Bliss +was asleep from nine o’clock until you knocked on the study door.” +</p> + +<p> +“The perfect Public Prosecutor,” sighed Vance. “But a shrewd defense +lawyer could sow many fecund seeds of doubt in the jurors’ so-called +minds—eh, what?” +</p> + +<p> +“True.” The admission came after a moment’s thought. “But we can’t +overlook the fact that Bliss was practically the only person who had +the opportunity to kill Kyle. Every one else was out of the house, +with the exception of Hani; and Hani impresses me as a harmless +fanatic who believes in the supernatural power of his Egyptian +deities. So far as we know, Bliss was the only person who was actually +on hand when Kyle was murdered.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance studied Markham for several seconds. Then he said: +</p> + +<p> +“Suppose it had not been necess’ry for the murderer to have been +anywhere near the museum when Kyle was killed with the statue of +Sakhmet.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham took his cigar slowly from his mouth. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you mean? How could that statue have been wielded by an +absent person? It strikes me you’re talking nonsense.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps I am.” Vance was troubled and serious. “And yet, Markham, I +found something on top of that end cabinet which makes me think that +maybe the murder was planned with diabolical cleverness.… As I told +you, I want to make an experiment. Then, when I have made it, your +course of action must rest entirely on your own convictions.… There’s +something both terrible and subtle about this crime. All its outward +appearances are misleading—deliberately so.” +</p> + +<p> +“How long will this experiment take?” Markham was patently impressed +by Vance’s tone. +</p> + +<p> +“Only a few minutes.…” +</p> + +<p> +Heath had taken a sheet of newspaper from the basket and was carefully +wrapping up the cup. +</p> + +<p> +“This goes to our chemist,” he explained sullenly. “I’m not doubting +you, Mr. Vance, but I want an expert analysis.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re quite right, Sergeant.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance’s eye at that moment caught sight of a small bronze tray on the +desk, containing several yellow pencils and a fountain pen. Leaning +over casually, he picked up the pencils, glanced at them, and put them +back on the tray. Markham noted the action, as did I, but he refrained +from asking any question. +</p> + +<p> +“The experiment will have to be made in the museum,” Vance said; “and +I’ll need a couple of sofa pillows for it.” +</p> + +<p> +He walked to the divan and tucked two large pillows under his arm. +Then he went to the steel door and held it open. +</p> + +<p> +Markham and Heath and I passed down the spiral stairs; and Vance +followed us. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch09"> +CHAPTER IX.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">VANCE MAKES AN EXPERIMENT</span> +</h3> + +<p class="center"> +(<i>Friday, July 13; 2.15 p.m.</i>) +</p> + +<p> +Vance went direct to the end cabinet before which Kyle’s body had been +found, and dropped the two sofa pillows on the floor. Then he looked +again speculatively at the upper edge of the cabinet. +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder…,” he murmured. “Dash it all! I’m almost afraid to carry on. +If I should be wrong, this entire case would come topplin’ about my +head.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Come, come!” Markham was growing impatient. “Soliloquies have gone +out of date, Vance. If you have anything to show me, let’s get it over +with.” +</p> + +<p> +“Right you are.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance stepped to the ash-tray and resolutely crushed out his +cigarette. Returning to the cabinet he beckoned to Markham and Heath. +</p> + +<p> +“By way of <i>præludium</i>,” he began, “I want to call your attention to +this curtain. You will observe that the brass ring at the end has been +slipped off of the rod and is now hanging down.” +</p> + +<p> +For the first time I noticed that the small ring on the corner of the +curtain was not strung on the rod, and that the left edge of the +curtain sagged correspondingly. +</p> + +<p> +“You will also observe,” Vance continued, “that the curtain of this +cabinet is only half drawn. It’s as if some one had started to draw +the curtain and, for some reason, had stopped. When I saw the +partly-drawn curtain this morning it struck me as a bit peculiar, for +obviously the curtain should have been entirely closed or else +entirely open. We may assume that the curtain was closed when Kyle +arrived here—we have Hani’s word for it that he had pulled shut the +curtain of this particular cabinet because of the disorder of its +contents; and Doctor Bliss mentioned to Kyle on the telephone that the +new treasures were in the end cabinet—<i>the cabinet with the drawn +curtain</i>.… Now, in order to open the curtain, one has only to make a +single motion of the arm—that is to say, one has only to take hold of +the left-hand edge of it and pull it to the right: the brass rings +would slide easily over the metal pole.… But what do we find? We find +the curtain only half drawn! Kyle unquestionably would not have opened +the curtain half-way to inspect the contents of the cabinet. +Therefore, I concluded that something must have halted the curtain at +the half-way point, and that Kyle died before he could draw the +curtain entirely open.… I say, Markham; are you with me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Go on.” Markham had become interested. Heath, too, was watching Vance +with close attention. +</p> + +<p> +“Perpend, then. Kyle was found dead directly in front of this end +cabinet; and he had died as the result of having been struck over the +head by the heavy diorite statue of Sakhmet. This statue, as we know, +had been placed by Hani on the top of the cabinet. When I observed +that the curtain of the cabinet had been only partly opened and then +discovered that the first brass ring of the curtain—the ring on the +extreme left end—was not on the rod, I began to speculate—especially +as I was familiar with Doctor Bliss’s orderly habits. Had that ring +been off of the rod last night when Doctor Bliss came into the museum, +you may rest assured he would have seen it.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you suggesting, Vance,” asked Markham, “that the ring was +deliberately taken off of the rod some time this morning—and for a +purpose?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes! At some time between Doctor Bliss’s phone call to Kyle last +night and Kyle’s arrival this morning, I believe that some one removed +that ring from the rod—and, as you say, for a purpose!” +</p> + +<p> +“What purpose?” Heath put the question. His voice was aggressive and +antagonistic. +</p> + +<p> +“That remains to be seen, Sergeant.” Vance spoke with scarcely any +modulation of tone. “I’ll admit I have a rather definite theory about +it. In fact, I had a theory about it the moment I saw the position in +which Kyle’s body lay and learned that Hani had placed the statue atop +the end cabinet. The partly drawn curtain and the unstrung brass ring +substantiated that theory.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think I understand what’s in your mind, Vance.” Markham nodded +slowly. “Was that why you inspected the top of the cabinet and got +Hani to show you exactly where he had placed the statue?” +</p> + +<p> +“Precisely. And not only did I find what I was looking for, but Hani +confirmed my suspicions when he pointed to the spot where he had set +the statue. That spot was several inches back from the edge of the +cabinet; but there was also a deep scratch at the very edge and a +second outline of the statue’s base in the dust, showing that the +statue had been moved forward after Hani had put it in place.” +</p> + +<p> +“But Doctor Bliss admitted he moved it last night before retiring,” +suggested Markham. +</p> + +<p> +“He said only that he had straightened the statue,” Vance answered. +“And the two impressions made in the dust by the front of the statue’s +base are exactly parallel, so that the adjustment to which Doctor +Bliss referred could not have been the moving of the statue six inches +forward.” +</p> + +<p> +“I see what you mean.… Your theory is that some one moved the statue +to the very edge of the cabinet after Doctor Bliss had straightened +it. And it’s not an unreasonable assumption.” +</p> + +<p> +Heath, who had been listening sullenly with half-shut eyes, suddenly +mounted one of the chairs in front of the cabinet and peered over the +moulding. +</p> + +<p> +“I want to see this,” he mumbled. Presently he descended and wagged +his head heavily at Markham. “It’s like Mr. Vance says, all right.… +But what’s all this hocus-pocus got to do with the case?” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s what I’m endeavorin’ to ascertain, Sergeant,” smiled Vance. +“It may have nothing to do with it. On the other hand.…” +</p> + +<p> +He leaned over and, with considerable effort, lifted the statue of +Sakhmet. (As I have said, the statue was about two feet high. It was +solidly sculptured and had a heavy thick base. I later lifted the +statue to test it, and I should say it weighed at least thirty +pounds.) Vance, stepping on a chair, placed the statue, with great +precision, on top of the cabinet at the very edge of the moulding. +Having carefully superimposed its base over the outlines in the dust, +he drew the curtain shut. Then he took the free brass ring in his left +hand, turned the corner of the curtain back until the ring reached the +left-hand edge of the statue, tipped the statue to the right, and +placed the ring just under the forward edge of the statue’s base. +</p> + +<p> +Having done this, he reached into his coat pocket and drew forth the +object he had found on the top of the cabinet. He held it up to us. +</p> + +<p> +“What I discovered, Markham,” he explained, “was a three-inch section +of a pencil, carefully cut and trimmed. I assumed that it was a +home-made ‘upright’ such as is used in figure-4 traps.… Let us see if +it works.” +</p> + +<p> +He tipped the statue forward and propped the piece of pencil under the +rear edge of the statue’s base. He took his hands away, and the statue +stood leaning toward us, perilously balanced. For a moment it seemed +as if it might topple over of its own accord, but the prepared pencil +was apparently the exact length necessary to tilt the statue forward +without quite upsetting its equilibrium. +</p> + +<p> +“So far my theory checks.” Vance stepped down from the chair. “Now, we +will proceed with the experiment.” +</p> + +<p> +He moved the chair to one side, and arranged the two sofa pillows over +the spot where Kyle’s head had lain at the foot of Anûbis. Then he +straightened up, and faced the District Attorney. +</p> + +<p> +“Markham,” he said sombrely, “I present you with a possibility. Regard +the position of that curtain; consider the position of the loose brass +ring—under the edge of the statue; observe the tilting attitude of +Our Lady of Vengeance; and then picture the arrival of Kyle this +morning. He had been informed that the new treasures were in the end +cabinet, with the curtain drawn. He told Brush not to disturb Doctor +Bliss because he was going into the museum to inspect the contents of +the recent shipment.” +</p> + +<p> +He paused and deliberately lighted a cigarette. By his slow, lazy +movements I knew that his nerves were tense. +</p> + +<p> +“I am not suggesting,” he continued, “that Kyle met his end as the +result of a death trap. In fact, I do not even know if my +reconstructed trap will work. But I am advancing the theory as a +possibility; for if the defense attorneys can show that Kyle could +have been murdered by some one other than Doctor Bliss—that is, <i>by +an absent person</i>—then your case against him would receive a decided +setback.…” +</p> + +<p> +He stepped over to the statue of Anûbis. Lifting up the lower +left-hand corner of the curtain, he stood close against the west wall +of the museum. +</p> + +<p> +“Let us say that Kyle, after taking his position before this end +cabinet, reached out and drew the curtain aside. Now, what would have +happened—provided the death trap had actually been set? …” +</p> + +<p> +He gave the curtain a sharp jerk to the right. It moved over the rod +until it was caught and held half-way across by the brass ring that +had been inserted beneath Sakhmet’s base. The jar dislodged the statue +from its perilously balanced position. It toppled forward and fell +with a terrific thud upon the sofa pillows, in the exact spot where +Kyle’s head had lain. +</p> + +<p> +There were several moments of silence. Markham continued to smoke, his +eyes focussed on the fallen statue. He was frowning and thoughtful. +Heath, however, was frankly astounded. Apparently he had not +considered the possibility of a death trap, and Vance’s demonstration +had everted, to a great extent, all his set theories. He glared at the +statue of Sakhmet with perplexed amazement, his cigar held tightly +between his teeth. +</p> + +<p> +Vance was the first to speak. +</p> + +<p> +“The experiment seems to have worked, don’t y’ know. Really, I think +I’ve demonstrated the possibility of Kyle’s having been killed while +alone in the museum.… Kyle was rather short in stature, and there was +sufficient distance between the top of the cabinet and Kyle’s head for +the statue to have gained a deadly momentum. The width of the cabinet +is only a little over two feet, so that it would have been inevitable +that the statue would hit him on the head, provided he had been +standing in front of it. And he obviously would have stood directly in +front of it when he pulled the curtain. The weight of the statue is +sufficient to have caused the terrific fracture of his skull; and the +position of the statue across the back of his head is wholly +consistent with his having been killed by a carefully planned trap.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance made a slight gesture of emphasis. +</p> + +<p> +“You must admit, Markham, that the demonstration I’ve just given you +makes plausible the guilt of any absent person, and consequently +removes one of your strongest counts against Doctor Bliss—namely, +proximity and opportunity.… And this fact, taken in connection with +the opium found in the coffee, gives him a convincing, though not an +absolute, alibi.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.…” Markham spoke with deliberate and pensive slowness. “The +negative clews you have found tend to counteract the direct clews of +the scarab and the financial report and the bloody footprints. There’s +no doubt about it: the doctor could present a strong defense.…” +</p> + +<p> +“A reasonable doubt, as it were—eh, what?” Vance grinned. “A +beautiful phrase—meaningless, of course, but typically legal. As if +the mind of man were ever capable of being reasonable! … And don’t +overlook the fact, Markham, that, if the doctor had merely intended to +brain Kyle with the statue of Sakhmet, the evidences of the death trap +would not have been present. If his object was only to kill Kyle, why +should the whittled pencil—in the shape of an ‘upright’—have been on +top of the cabinet?” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re perfectly right,” Markham admitted. “A shrewd defense attorney +could make a shambles of the case I have against the doctor.” +</p> + +<p> +“And consider your direct evidence for a moment.” Vance seated himself +and crossed his legs. “The scarab pin, which was found beside the +body, could have been palmed by any one at the conference last night, +and deliberately placed beside the murdered body. Or, if the doctor +had been put to sleep by the opium in his coffee, it would have been +an easy matter for the murderer to have taken the pin from the desk +this morning—the door into the study, y’ know, was never locked. And +what would have been simpler than to have taken the financial report +at the same time, and slipped it into Kyle’s dead hand? … As for the +bloody footprints: any member of the household could have taken the +tennis shoe from Doctor Bliss’s bedroom and made the prints in the +blood and then chucked the shoe in the waste-basket while the doctor +slept under the influence of the opiate.… And that closed east window +on the court: doesn’t that closed window, with its drawn shade, +indicate that some one in the study didn’t want the neighbors next +door to see what was going on?” +</p> + +<p> +Vance took a slow draw on his cigarette and blew out a long spiral of +smoke. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m no Demosthenes, Markham, but I’d take Doctor Bliss’s case in any +court, and guarantee him an acquittal.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham had begun walking up and down, his hands behind his back. +</p> + +<p> +“The presence of this death trap and of the opium in the coffee cup,” +he conceded at length, “casts an entirely new light on the case. It +throws the affair wide open and makes possible and even plausible some +one else’s guilt.” He stopped suddenly and looked sharply at Heath. +“What’s your opinion, Sergeant?” +</p> + +<p> +Heath was obviously in a quandary. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m going cuckoo,” he confessed, after a pause. “I thought we had the +damn affair sewed up in an air-tight bag, and now Mr. Vance pulls a +lot of his subtle stuff and hands the doc a loophole.” He gave Vance a +belligerent glare. “Honest to Gawd, Mr. Vance, you shoulda been a +lawyer.” His contempt was devastating. +</p> + +<p> +Markham could not help smiling, but Vance shook his head sadly and +looked at the Sergeant with an exaggeratedly injured air. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I say, Sergeant; must you be insultin’?” he protested +whimsically. “I’m only tryin’ to save you and Mr. Markham from making +a silly blunder. And what thanks do I get? I’m told I should have been +a lawyer! Alack and welladay!” +</p> + +<p> +“Let’s forgo the cynicism.” Markham was too upset to fall in with +Vance’s frivolous attitude. “You’ve made your point. And, in doing so, +you’ve saddled me with a serious and weighty problem.” +</p> + +<p> +“Still and all,” pursued Heath, “there’s plenty of evidence against +Bliss.” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite true, Sergeant.” Vance had again become thoughtful. “But I’m +afraid that evidence will not bear the closest scrutiny.” +</p> + +<p> +“You think, I take it,” said Markham, “that the evidence was +deliberately planted—that the actual murderer maliciously placed +these clews so that they would point to Doctor Bliss.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is such a technic so unusual?” asked Vance. “Hasn’t many a murderer +sought to throw suspicion on some one else? Isn’t criminal history +filled with cases of innocent men being convicted on convincing +circumstantial evidence? And is it not entirely possible that the +misleading evidence in such cases was deliberately planted by the real +culprits?” +</p> + +<p> +“Still,” Markham returned, “I can’t afford, at this stage of the game, +to ignore entirely the indicatory evidence pointing to Doctor Bliss. I +must be able to prove a plot against him before I can completely +exonerate him.” +</p> + +<p> +“And the arrest?” +</p> + +<p> +Markham hesitated. He realized, I think, the hopelessness of his case +now that Vance had unearthed so many contradictory bits of evidence. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s impossible, of course,” he concluded, “to order the doctor’s +arrest at present, in view of the extenuating factors you’ve brought +to light.… But,” he added grimly, “I’m certainly not going to ignore +altogether the evidence against him.” +</p> + +<p> +“And just what does one do in such legalistically complicated +circumstances?” +</p> + +<p> +Markham smoked for a while in troubled silence. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m going to keep Bliss under close surveillance,” he pronounced +finally. Then he turned to Heath. “Sergeant, you may order your men to +release the doctor. But make arrangements to have him followed day and +night.” +</p> + +<p> +“That suits me, sir.” Heath started toward the front stairs. +</p> + +<p> +“And Sergeant,” Markham called; “tell Doctor Bliss he is not to leave +the house until I have seen him.” +</p> + +<p> +Heath disappeared on his errand. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch10"> +CHAPTER X.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">THE YELLOW PENCIL</span> +</h3> + +<p class="center"> +(<i>Friday, July 13; 2.30 p.m.</i>) +</p> + +<p> +Markham slowly lighted a fresh cigar and sat down heavily on one of +the folding chairs near the inlaid coffer, facing Vance. +</p> + +<p> +“The situation is beginning to look serious—and complex,” he said, +with a weary sigh. +</p> + +<p> +“More serious than you think,” Vance returned. “And far more complex.… +I assure you, Markham, that this murder is one of the most astounding +and subtle criminal plots you have ever been faced with. Superficially +it appears simple and direct—it was intended to appear that way, d’ye +see—and your first reading of the clews was exactly what the murderer +counted on.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham regarded Vance shrewdly. +</p> + +<p> +“You have an idea of what that plot is?” His words were more a +statement than a question. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes… oh, yes.” Vance at once became aloof. “An idea? … Quite. But not +what you’d term a blindin’ illumination. I immediately suspected a +plot; and all the subsequent findings verified my theory. But I’ve +only a nebulous idea regardin’ it. And the precise object of the plot +is totally obfuscated. However, since I know that the surface +indications are deliberately misleading, there’s a chance of getting +at the truth.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham sat up aggressively. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s in your mind?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, my dear chap! You flatter me abominably.” Vance smiled blandly. +“My mind is beclouded and adumbrated. It is shot with mist and mizzle, +with vapor and haze and steam; it is cirrous and nubiferous, cumulous +and vaporous; it is filled with wool-packs, mare’s-tails, +colt’s-tails, cat’s-tails, frost smoke, and spindrift. ‘The lowring +element scowls o’er the darkened landscip.’ … My mind, in fact, is +nephological——” +</p> + +<p> +“Spare me your meteorological vocabulary. Remember, I’m only an +ignorant District Attorney.” Markham’s sarcasm was measured by his +exasperation. “Perhaps, however, you can suggest our next step. I +frankly admit that, aside from cross-examining the members of the +Bliss household, I can’t see any means of approach to this problem; +for, if Bliss isn’t guilty, the crime was obviously committed by some +one who was not only intimate with the domestic situation here but who +had access to the house.” +</p> + +<p> +“I think, don’t y’ know,” suggested Vance, “that we should first +acquaint ourselves with the conditions and relationships existing in +the ménage. It would give us a certain equipment, what? And it might +indicate some fertile line of inquiry.” He bent forward in his chair. +“Markham, the solution of this problem depends almost entirely on our +finding the motive. And there are sinister ramifications to that +motive. Kyle’s murder was no ordin’ry crime. It was planned with a +finesse and a cunning amounting to genius. Only a tremendous incentive +could have produced it. There’s fanaticism behind this crime—a +powerful, devastating <i>idée fixe</i> that is cruel and unspeakably +ruthless. The actual murder was merely a prelimin’ry to something far +more devilish—it was the means to an end. And that ultimate object +was infinitely more terrible and despicable than Kyle’s precipitous +demise.… A nice, clean, swift murder can sometimes be justified, or at +least extenuated. But the criminal in this instance did not stop with +murder: he used it as a weapon to crush and ruin an innocent person.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Granted what you say is true,”—Markham rose uneasily and leaned +against the shelves containing the <i>shawabtis</i>—“how can we discover +the interrelationships of this household without interviewing its +members?” +</p> + +<p> +“By questioning the one man who stands apart from the actual inmates.” +</p> + +<p> +“Scarlett?” +</p> + +<p> +Vance nodded. +</p> + +<p> +“He undoubtedly knows more than he has told us. He has been with the +Bliss expedition for two years. He has lived in Egypt, and is +acquainted with the family history.… Why not have him in here for a +brief <i>causerie</i> before tackling the members of the establishment? +There are several points I could endure to know ere the investigation +proceeds.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham was watching Vance closely. Presently he moved his head up and +down slowly. +</p> + +<p> +“You’ve something in mind, Vance, and it’s neither nimbus, cumulus, +stratus, nor cirrus.… Very well. I’ll get Scarlett here and let you +question him.” +</p> + +<p> +Heath returned to the museum at this moment. +</p> + +<p> +“Doc Bliss has gone to his bedroom, with orders to stay there,” he +reported. “The rest of ’em are in the drawing-room, and Hennessey and +Emery are keeping their eye on things. Also, I sent the wagon +away—and Snitkin’s watching the front door.” I had rarely seen Heath +in so discouraged a mood. +</p> + +<p> +“How did Doctor Bliss act when you ordered his release?” Vance asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Didn’t seem to care one way or another,” the Sergeant told him, with +an intonation of disgust. “Didn’t even say anything. Just went +up-stairs with his head down, stunned-like.… Queer bird, if you ask +me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Most Egyptologists are queer birds, Sergeant,” Vance remarked +consolingly. +</p> + +<p> +Markham was again growing impatient. He addressed himself curtly to +Heath. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Vance and I have decided to find out what Mr. Scarlett can tell +us before going on with the investigation. Will you ask him to step +here?” +</p> + +<p> +The Sergeant extended his arms and let them fall in a broad gesture of +resignation. Then he went from the museum. In a few moments he +returned with Scarlett in tow. +</p> + +<p> +Vance drew up several chairs. By his serious, deliberate manner I +realized that he regarded the conference with Scarlett as highly +important. At the time I was not aware of what was in his mind; nor +did I understand why he had chosen Scarlett as his chief source of +information. But before the day was over it was only too clear to me. +With subtle accuracy and precision he had chosen the one man who could +supply the data that were needed to solve the murder of Kyle. And the +things Vance learned from Scarlett that afternoon proved to be the +determining factors in his solution of the case. +</p> + +<p> +Without preliminaries Vance informed Scarlett of the altered status of +Doctor Bliss. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Markham has decided to postpone the doctor’s arrest. The evidence +at present is most conflicting. We’ve discovered several things, +which, from the legal point of view, throw serious doubt on his guilt. +The fact is, Scarlett, we’ve come to the conclusion that further +investigation is necess’ry before we can make any definite move.” +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett appeared greatly relieved. +</p> + +<p> +“By Jove, Vance, I’m frightfully glad of that!” he exclaimed with +complete conviction. “Doctor Bliss’s guilt is unthinkable. What could +possibly have been the man’s motive? Kyle was his benefactor——” +</p> + +<p> +“Have you any ideas on the subject?” Vance interrupted. +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett shook his head emphatically. +</p> + +<p> +“Not the ghost of an idea. The thing has stunned me. I can’t imagine +how it could have happened.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes… most mysterious,” Vance murmured. “We’ll have to get at the +matter by tryin’ to discover the motive.… That’s why we’re appealin’ +to you. We want to know just what the inner workings are in the Bliss +ménage. You, bein’ more or less of an outsider, can possibly lead us +to the truth.… For instance, you mentioned an intimate relationship +between Kyle and Mrs. Bliss’s father. Let us have the whole story.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a bit romantic, but quite simple.” Scarlett paused and took out +his briar pipe. When he had got it going he continued: “You know the +story of old Abercrombie, Meryt’s father. He went to Egypt in 1885, +and became Grébaut’s assistant the following year when Sir Gaston +Maspero returned to France to resume his chair at the Collège de +France. Maspero returned to Egypt in 1899 and retained his position as +head of the Egyptian <i>Service des Antiquités</i> at Cairo until his +resignation in 1914, at which time he was elected permanent Secretary +of the Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres in Paris. +Abercrombie then succeeded Maspero as Director of Antiquities at the +Cairo Museum. In 1898, however, Abercrombie had fallen in love with a +Copt lady, and had married her. Meryt was born two years later—in +1900.” +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett seemed to be having difficulty with his pipe, and used two +matches to relight it. +</p> + +<p> +“Kyle entered the picture four years before Meryt’s birth,” he went +on. “He came to Egypt in 1896 as a representative of a group of New +York bankers who had become financially interested in the proposed +Nile irrigation system.<sup><a href="#n15b" id="n15a">[15]</a></sup> He met Abercrombie—then Grébaut’s +assistant—and their acquaintance developed into a close friendship. +Kyle returned to Egypt nearly every year during the process of the +dam’s construction—that is, until 1902. He naturally met the Coptic +lady whom Abercrombie subsequently married, and, I have every reason +to believe, was much smitten with her. But being Abercrombie’s friend +and a gentleman, he refrained from any trespassing. However, when the +lady died, at Meryt’s birth, he quite openly transferred his +affections from the mother to the daughter. He became Meryt’s +godfather and, in a big-hearted way, looked out for her as though she +had been his own child.… Kyle wasn’t a bad scout.” +</p> + +<p> +“And Bliss?” +</p> + +<p> +“Bliss first went to Egypt in the winter of 1913. He met Abercrombie +at that time, and they became friendly. He also met Meryt, who was +then only thirteen years old. Seven years later—in 1920—young +Salveter introduced Bliss to Kyle; and the first expedition to Egypt +was made in the winter of 1921-22. Abercrombie died in Egypt in the +summer of 1922, and Meryt was fathered, after a fashion, by Hani, who +had been an old family retainer. The second Bliss expedition was in +1922-23; and Bliss again met Meryt. She was now twenty-three; and the +following spring Bliss married her.… You met Meryt, Vance, on the +third Bliss expedition in 1924.… Bliss brought Meryt back to America +with him after the second expedition; and last year he added Hani to +his personal staff. Hani had then been made an under inspector by the +Egyptian Government.… That sums up the relationship between Bliss and +Kyle and Abercrombie and Meryt. Is it what you wanted?” +</p> + +<p> +“Exactly.” Vance looked at the tip of his cigarette thoughtfully. +“Briefly, then, Kyle was interested in Mrs. Bliss because of his love +for her mother and his friendship for her father; and no doubt he had +an added interest in financing Bliss’s later expeditions because of +the fact that Bliss married the daughter of his lost love.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, the assumption is perfectly reasonable.” +</p> + +<p> +“That bein’ the case, Kyle probably has not forgotten Mrs. Bliss in +his will. Do you happen to know, Scarlett, if he made any provision +for her?” +</p> + +<p> +“As I understand it,” Scarlett explained, “he left a very considerable +fortune to Meryt. I have only Hani’s word for it; but he once +mentioned to me that Kyle had willed her a large amount. Hani was +elated over the fact, for there’s no doubt he has a very deep, +dog-like affection for her.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what of Salveter?” +</p> + +<p> +“I presume that Kyle has taken care of him generously. Kyle was not +married—whether his loyalty to Meryt’s mother was responsible for his +bachelorhood, I can’t say—and Salveter was his only nephew. Moreover, +he liked Salveter immensely. I’m inclined to think that, when the will +is read, it’ll be found he left Meryt and Salveter equal amounts.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance turned to Markham. +</p> + +<p> +“Could you have one of your various diplomatic coadjutors find out +confidentially about Kyle’s will? I’ve a notion the data would help us +materially.” +</p> + +<p> +“It might be done,” Markham returned. “The moment this thing breaks in +the papers Kyle’s attorneys will come forward. I’ll use a little +pressure.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance again addressed Scarlett. +</p> + +<p> +“I believe you told me that Kyle had recently begun to balk at the +expenses of the Bliss expeditions.—Can you suggest any reason for his +deflection other than lack of immediate results?” +</p> + +<p> +“No-o.” Scarlett pondered a moment. “You know, expeditions such as +Doctor Bliss had planned are deucedly expensive luxuries, and the +results, of course, are highly problematic. Furthermore, however +successful they are, it takes a long time to produce any tangible +evidence of their value. Kyle was getting impatient; he was not an +Egyptologist and knew little of such matters; and he may have thought +that Doctor Bliss was on an extravagant wild-goose chase at his +expense. Fact is, he intimated last year that unless some definite +results were obtained during the new excavations he’d not go on doling +out money. That was why the doctor was so anxious last night to +present a financial report and to have Kyle see the new treasures that +arrived yesterday.” +</p> + +<p> +“There was nothing personal in Kyle’s attitude?” +</p> + +<p> +“To the contrary. All the relationships were very friendly. Kyle liked +Bliss personally and respected him immensely. And Bliss had only +praise and gratitude for Kyle.… No, Vance, you’ll find nothing by +going at it from that angle.” +</p> + +<p> +“How did the doctor feel last night about the possible outcome of his +interview with Kyle?—Was he worried or sanguine?” +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett knit his brows and puffed at his pipe. +</p> + +<p> +“Neither, I should say,” he answered at length. “His state of mind was +what might be described as philosophic. He’s inclined to be +easy-going—takes things as they come—and he has a rare amount of +self-control. The serious scholar at all times—if you comprehend me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite.…” Vance put out his cigarette and folded his hands behind his +head. “But what do you think would have been the effect on Doctor +Bliss if Kyle had refused to finance the expedition further?” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s hard to say.… He’d probably have looked for capital +elsewhere—remember, he had made great strides in his work despite the +fact that he had not actually entered Intef’s tomb.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what was young Salveter’s attitude in the face of a possible +cessation of the excavations?” +</p> + +<p> +“He was more upset about it than the doctor. Salveter has unbounded +enthusiasm, and he made several pleas to his uncle to continue +financing the work. If Kyle had refused to go on, it would have come +pretty near breaking the lad’s heart. I understand he even offered to +forgo his inheritance if Kyle would see the expedition through.” +</p> + +<p> +“There’s no mistakin’ Salveter’s earnestness,” Vance acceded. Then he +was silent for a considerable time. Finally he reached for his +cigarette-case; but he did not open it, and sat tapping it with his +fingers. “There’s another point I want to ask you about, Scarlett,” he +said presently. “How does Mrs. Bliss regard her husband’s work?” +</p> + +<p> +The question was vague—purposely so, I imagine; and Scarlett was a +little puzzled. But after a moment he replied: +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Meryt is quite the loyal wife. During the first year or so of her +marriage she was most interested in all the doctor did—in fact, she +accompanied him, as you know, on his 1924 expedition. Lived in a tent +and all that sort of thing, and seemed perfectly happy. But—to tell +you the truth, Vance—her interest has been waning of late. A racial +reaction, I take it. The Egyptian blood in her is a powerful +influence. Her mother was almost fanatical on the subject of Egyptian +sanctity, and very proud; resented the so-called desecration of the +tombs of her ancestors by western barbarians—as she designated all +Occidental scientists. But Meryt has never voiced her own +opinion,—I’m merely assuming that some of her mother’s antagonism has +recently cropped out in her. Nothing serious though, please +understand. Meryt has been absolutely loyal to Bliss and his chosen +work.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hani may have had something to do with her state of mind,” commented +Vance. +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett shot him a questioning look. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s barely possible,” he admitted reluctantly, and lapsed into +silence. +</p> + +<p> +Vance tenaciously pursued the subject. +</p> + +<p> +“Most probable, I’d say. And I’d go even further. I’ve a suspicion +that Doctor Bliss himself recognized Hani’s influence on his wife, and +became bitterly resentful. You recall the tirade he launched against +Hani when he came into the museum this morning. He openly accused Hani +of poisoning Mrs. Bliss’s mind.” +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett moved uneasily in his chair and chewed the stem of his pipe. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s never been any love between the doctor and Hani,” he remarked +evasively. “Bliss brought him to America solely because Meryt insisted +on it. I think he believes Hani is spying on him for the Egyptian +Government.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is it entirely unlikely?” Vance put the question offhandedly. +</p> + +<p> +“Really, Vance, I can’t answer that.” Scarlett suddenly leaned +forward, and his features became tense. “But I’ll tell you this: Meryt +is incapable of any fundamental disloyalty to her husband. Even though +she may think she made a mistake in marrying Doctor Bliss—who’s much +older than she is and completely absorbed in his work—she’d stand by +her bargain… like a thoroughbred.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah… just so.” Vance nodded slightly and selected a <i>Régie</i> from his +case. “And that brings me to a most delicate question.… Do you think +that Mrs. Bliss has any—what shall I say?—interests outside of her +husband? That is, aside from Doctor Bliss’s life work, is it possible +that her more intimate emotions are involved elsewhere?” +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett got to his feet and began spluttering. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, really, Vance.… Dash it all! … You’ve no right to ask me such a +question.… I’m no quidnunc.… One doesn’t talk about such things; it’s +not done—really it isn’t, old man.… You put me in a most embarrassing +position.…” (Scarlett’s predicament roused my sympathy.) +</p> + +<p> +“Neither is murder done in the best circles,” returned Vance equably. +“We’re dealin’ with a most unusual situation. And somebody translated +Kyle from this world into the hereafter in a very distressin’ +fashion.… But since your sensitivities are so deuced lacerated I’ll +withdraw the question.” He smiled disarmingly. “You’re not entirely +impervious to the lady’s charms yourself—eh, what, Scarlett?” +</p> + +<p> +The man whirled about and glared at Vance ferociously. Before he could +answer, Vance stood up and looked him steadily in the eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“A man has been murdered,” he said quietly; “and a devilish plot has +been introduced into that murder. Another human life is at stake. And +I’m here to find out who concocted this hideous scheme and to save an +innocent person from the electric chair. Therefore I’m not going to +let any squeamish conventional taboos stand in my way.” His voice +softened somewhat. “I appreciate your reticence. Under ordin’ry +circumstances it would be most admirable. But just now it’s rather +silly.” +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett met Vance’s gaze squarely, and after a few seconds he sat +down again. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re quite right, old man,” he acquiesced, in a low voice. “I’ll +tell you anything you want to know.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance nodded indifferently and smoked for a while. +</p> + +<p> +“I think you’ve told me everything,” he said finally. “But we may call +on you later.… It’s far past lunch time. Suppose you toddle along +home.” +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett drew a deep sigh of relief and got to his feet. +</p> + +<p> +“Thanks awfully.” And without another word he went out. +</p> + +<p> +Heath followed him, and we could hear him giving instructions to +Snitkin to let Scarlett leave the house. +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” said Markham to Vance, when the Sergeant had returned; “how +has Scarlett’s information helped you? I can’t see that it has thrown +any very dazzling light on our problem.” +</p> + +<p> +“My word!” Vance shook his head with commiserating incredulity. +“Scarlett has put us infinitely forrader. He was most revealin’. We +now have a definite foundation on which to stand when we chivy the +members of the household.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m glad you feel so confident.” Markham rose and regarded Vance +sternly. “You can’t really believe——?” He broke off, as if he did +not quite dare to articulate his thought. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I believe this crime was merely a means to an end,” Vance +returned. “Its real object, I’m convinced, was to involve an innocent +person and thus wash the slate clean of several annoyin’ elements.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham stood stock-still for several seconds. +</p> + +<p> +“I think I see what you mean,” he nodded. “It’s possible of course.” +</p> + +<p> +He walked up the museum and back again, his head clouded in cigar +smoke. +</p> + +<p> +“See here;”—he stood looking grimly down at Vance—“I want to ask you +a question. I recall your asking Salveter for a pencil.… What make of +pencil was used for that ‘upright’ which you found on top of the end +cabinet?—Was it a Mongol No. 1?” +</p> + +<p> +Vance shook his head. +</p> + +<p> +“No. It was not a Mongol. It was a Koh-i-noor—an HB, a much harder +lead than the No. 1 Mongol, which is very soft.… Y’ know, Mongols and +Koh-i-noors look exactly alike: they’re both hexagonal and yellow. The +Koh-i-noor is made by Hardtmuth in Czecho-Slovakia—one of the oldest +firms in Europe. Originally the Koh-i-noors were Austrian pencils, but +after the World War the old Austrian empire was divided——” +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind the kindergarten lesson in history.” Markham’s face became +suddenly overcast. “So it wasn’t a Mongol that was used in the death +trap.…” He came closer to Vance. “Another question—and all your +garrulousness about the Austrian Successor States can’t divert me: +What make of pencil were those you looked at on Doctor Bliss’s desk in +the study?” +</p> + +<p> +Vance sighed. +</p> + +<p> +“I feared you’d ask that question. And, y’ know, I’m almost afraid to +tell you—you’re so impulsive.…” +</p> + +<p> +Markham glowered with exasperation and started toward Bliss’s study. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, it won’t be necess’ry for you to trudge up the spiral stairs,” +Vance called after him. “I’ll tell you.… They were Koh-i-noors.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” +</p> + +<p> +“But I say; are you goin’ to let that fact influence you?” +</p> + +<p> +There was a slight pause before Markham answered. +</p> + +<p> +“No.… After all, the pencil is not a particularly convincing piece of +evidence, especially as every one had access to the study.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance grinned and looked puckish. +</p> + +<p> +“Such broadmindedness in a district attorney is positively amazin’,” +he said. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch11"> +CHAPTER XI.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">THE COFFEE PERCOLATOR</span> +</h3> + +<p class="center"> +(<i>Friday, July 13; 2.45 p.m.</i>) +</p> + +<p> +Markham resumed his seat. He was far too dismayed to resent Vance’s +good-natured irony. The murder of Kyle, which at first had appeared so +straightforward and simple, was becoming more and more involved. +Subtle and terrible undercurrents were beginning to make themselves +felt; and it was now clear to every one, I think, that the crime, +instead of being a mere brutal braining, was a sinister factor in a +deep, ramified plot. Even Heath had at last begun to sense the hidden +significations of the obvious clews to which he had at first pinned +his hope for a speedy solution. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he admitted, his cigar bobbing up and down between his thin +lips; “that pencil don’t mean anything in particular.… This case—as +you’d say, Mr. Vance—is getting a bit thick. Nobody with a brain is +going to smear the whole works with clews pointing to himself, if he’s +guilty.” He frowned at Markham. “What about that opium in the coffee, +Chief?” +</p> + +<p> +Markham pursed his lips. +</p> + +<p> +“I was just thinking about that. And it might be advisable to try to +find out at once who could have drugged Bliss.… What’s your opinion, +Vance?” +</p> + +<p> +“A coruscatin’ idea.” Vance was smoking thoughtfully. “It’s most +essential to know who could have put the sleepin’ powder in the +doctor’s coffee, for there’s no doubt that the person who did it is +the one who sent Kyle on his long pilgrimage. In fact, the key to the +whole plot lies in the question of who had the opportunity to meddle +with that cup of coffee.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham sat up decisively. +</p> + +<p> +“Sergeant, get the butler. Bring him through the study so that the +people in the drawing-room won’t see him come in.” +</p> + +<p> +Heath rose with alacrity and swung up the spiral stairs three steps at +a time. A minute or two later he reappeared at the study door, +unceremoniously urging Brush before him. +</p> + +<p> +The man was palpably in a state of fright; his face was very pale and +he held his hands tightly clinched. He approached us unsteadily, but +bowed with instinctive correctness and stood quite erect, like a +well-trained servant waiting for orders. +</p> + +<p> +“Sit down and relax, Brush.” Vance busied himself with lighting a +fresh cigarette. “I can’t blame you for being wrought up, don’t y’ +know. A most tryin’ situation. If you’ll try to be calm you can help +us.… I say, stop fidgetin’! …” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir.” The man sat down on the edge of a chair, and gripped his +knees tensely with his hands. “Very good, sir. But I’m very much +upset. I’ve been in the employ of gentlemen for fifteen years, and +never before——” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, quite. I fully sympathize with your predicament.” Vance smiled +pleasantly. “Emergencies do arise, though. And this may be your great +opportunity to enlarge your field of activities. The fact is, Brush, +you may be able to lead us to the truth concerning this unfortunate +affair.” +</p> + +<p> +“I hope so, sir.” The butler had perceptibly calmed down under Vance’s +casual attitude. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell us, then, about the breakfast arrangements in the house.” Vance, +with Markham’s tacit consent, assumed the rôle of interrogator. +“Where does the family indulge in its morning coffee?” +</p> + +<p> +“In the breakfast-room down-stairs.” Brush was now controlling himself +admirably. “There’s a small room at the front of the house in the +basement, which Mrs. Bliss had decorated in Egyptian style. Only +luncheon and dinner are served in the main dining-room up-stairs.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! And does the family break its fast together?” +</p> + +<p> +“Generally, sir. I call every one at eight; and at eight-thirty +breakfast is served.” +</p> + +<p> +“And just who appears at this unearthly hour?” +</p> + +<p> +“Doctor and Mrs. Bliss, and Mr. Salveter—and Mr. Hani.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance’s eyebrows went up slightly. +</p> + +<p> +“Does Hani eat with the family?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no, sir.” Brush seemed perplexed. “I don’t exactly understand Mr. +Hani’s status—if you know what I mean, sir. He is treated by Doctor +Bliss as a servant, and yet he calls the mistress by her first name.… +He has his meals in an alcove off the kitchen—he will not eat with me +and Dingle.” There was a certain resentment in his tone. +</p> + +<p> +Vance sought to console him. +</p> + +<p> +“Hani, you must realize, is a very old retainer of Mrs. Bliss’s +family—and he is also an official of the Egyptian Government.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, the arrangement suits Dingle and me perfectly, sir,” was the +evasive answer. +</p> + +<p> +Vance did not pursue the subject, but asked: +</p> + +<p> +“Does Mr. Scarlett ever breakfast with the Blisses?” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite often, sir—especially when there’s work to be done in the +museum.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did he come this morning?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“Then, if Hani was in his room all the morning and Doctor Bliss was in +his study, Mrs. Bliss and Mr. Salveter must have breakfasted alone +together, what?” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s correct, sir. Mrs. Bliss came down-stairs a little before half +past eight and Mr. Salveter a few minutes later. The doctor had told +me at eight o’clock on his way to the study that he had work to do and +the others should not wait for him.” +</p> + +<p> +“And who informed you of Hani’s indisposition?” +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Salveter, sir. He told me that Mr. Hani had asked him to tell me +he wouldn’t be down for breakfast.… Their rooms, you see, face each +other on the third floor, and I have noticed that Mr. Hani always +leaves his door open at night.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance nodded approvingly. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re most limpid, Brush.… Therefore, as I understand it, at half +past eight this morning the disposition of the members of the house +was as follows:—Mrs. Bliss and Mr. Salveter were in the +breakfast-room down-stairs; Hani was in his bedroom on the third +floor; and Doctor Bliss was in his study. Mr. Scarlett was presumably +at home.… And where were you and Dingle?” +</p> + +<p> +“Dingle was in the kitchen, and I was between the kitchen and the +breakfast-room, serving.” +</p> + +<p> +“And to your knowledge there was no one else in the house?” +</p> + +<p> +The butler appeared mildly surprised. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no, sir. There could not have been any one else in the house.” +</p> + +<p> +“But if you were down-stairs,” Vance persisted, “how do you know no +one came in the front door?” +</p> + +<p> +“It was locked.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are quite sure?” +</p> + +<p> +“Positive, sir. One of my duties is to see that the latch is thrown +the last thing before retiring each night; and no one rang the bell or +used the door this morning before nine o’clock.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very good.” Vance smoked meditatively for several moments. Then he +lay back lazily in his chair and closed his eyes. “By the by, Brush, +how and where is the morning coffee prepared?” +</p> + +<p> +“The coffee?” The man gave a start of astonishment, but quickly +recovered himself. “The coffee is a fad of the doctor’s—if you +understand me, sir. He orders it from some Egyptian firm on Ninth +Avenue. It’s very black and damp, and somewhat burnt in the roasting. +It tastes like French coffee—if you know how French coffee tastes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Unfortunately I do.” Vance sighed and made a wry face. “An +excruciatin’ beverage. No wonder the French fill it full of hot milk.… +And do you yourself drink this coffee, Brush?” +</p> + +<p> +The butler looked a trifle disconcerted. +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir. I can’t say that I care for the taste of it. Mrs. Bliss has +kindly given me and Dingle permission to make our own coffee in the +old-fashioned way.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” Vance half-closed his eyes. “So Doctor Bliss’s coffee is not +made in the old-fashioned way.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, sir, I may have used the wrong word, but it’s certainly not +made in the customary way.” +</p> + +<p> +“Tell us about it.” Vance again relaxed. “There’s so much pother in +this world about the correct way to make coffee. People get positively +fanatical on the subject. I shouldn’t be surprised if one day we had a +civil war between the boilers and the non-boilers, or perhaps the +drippers and the percolaters. Silly notion… as if coffee were of any +importance. Now, tea, on the other hand.… But go ahead and unfold the +doctor’s ideas on the subject.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham had begun beating an irritable tattoo with his foot, and Heath +was wagging his head with elaborate impatience. But Vance, by his +irrelevant loquacity, had produced exactly the effect he desired. He +had succeeded in allaying Brush’s nervousness and diverting his mind +from the direct object of the interrogation. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, sir,” the man explained, “the coffee is made in a kind of +percolator like a large samovar——” +</p> + +<p> +“And where is this outlandish machine situated?” +</p> + +<p> +“It always stands on the end of the breakfast-table.… It has a spirit +lamp under it to keep the coffee hot after it has—has——” +</p> + +<p> +“ ‘Trickled’ is probably the word.” +</p> + +<p> +“Trickled, sir. The percolator is in two sections—one fits into the +other like a French coffee pot. You first lay a piece of filter paper +over the holes and then put in the pulverized coffee—which Dingle +grinds fresh every morning. Then there’s a small plate which you set +over the coffee—Doctor Bliss calls it the water-distributor. When +that’s in place you pour boiling water into the top of the samovar, +and the coffee drips into the bottom. It is drawn off by a little +spigot.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very interestin’.… And if one lifts off the top section of this +apparatus one would have direct access to the liquid itself, what?” +</p> + +<p> +Brush was frankly puzzled by this question. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir—but that isn’t necessary because the spigot——” +</p> + +<p> +“I can visualize the process perfectly, Brush. I was just wonderin’ +how one might go about doctorin’ the coffee before it was drawn off.” +</p> + +<p> +“Doctoring the coffee?” The man appeared genuinely amazed. +</p> + +<p> +“Just a passin’ fancy.” Vance spoke with utter negligence. “And now, +Brush, to return to this morning’s breakfast.—You say that Mrs. Bliss +and Mr. Salveter were the only persons present. How much of the time +were you actually in the breakfast-room during the repast?” +</p> + +<p> +“Very little, sir. I merely brought in the breakfast and retired at +once to the kitchen. Mrs. Bliss always serves the coffee herself.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did Hani go breakfastless this morning?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not exactly, sir. Mrs. Bliss asked me to take him a cup of coffee.” +</p> + +<p> +“At what time was this?” +</p> + +<p> +Brush thought a moment. +</p> + +<p> +“At about quarter of nine, I should say, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you of course took it to him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly, sir. Mrs. Bliss had already prepared it when she called +me.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what about the doctor’s breakfast?” +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Bliss suggested that I take his coffee and toast to the study. I +would not have disturbed him myself unless he rang for me.” +</p> + +<p> +“And when was this suggestion made by Mrs. Bliss?” +</p> + +<p> +“Just before she and Mr. Salveter left the breakfast-room.” +</p> + +<p> +“At about nine, I think you said.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir—perhaps a few minutes before.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did Mrs. Bliss and Mr. Salveter leave the breakfast-room together?” +</p> + +<p> +“I couldn’t say, sir. The fact is, Mrs. Bliss called me in just as she +had finished breakfast, and told me to take some coffee and toast to +the doctor. When I returned to the breakfast-room to get the coffee, +she and Mr. Salveter had gone.” +</p> + +<p> +“And had Mrs. Bliss prepared the coffee for the doctor?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir. I drew it myself.” +</p> + +<p> +“When?” +</p> + +<p> +“The toast was not quite ready, sir; but I drew the coffee within five +minutes after Mrs. Bliss and Mr. Salveter had gone up-stairs.” +</p> + +<p> +“And during those five minutes you were, I presume, in the kitchen?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir. That is to say, except when I was in the rear hall +telephoning—the usual daily orders to the tradespeople.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance roused himself from his apparent lethargy and crushed out his +cigarette. +</p> + +<p> +“The breakfast-room, then, was empty for about five minutes between +the time when Mrs. Bliss and Mr. Salveter went up-stairs and the time +when you went in to draw Doctor Bliss’s coffee?” +</p> + +<p> +“Just about five minutes, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“Now, focus your brain on those five minutes, Brush.—Did you hear any +sound in the breakfast-room during that time?” +</p> + +<p> +The butler looked critically at Vance, and made an attempt at +concentration. +</p> + +<p> +“I wasn’t paying much attention, sir,” he replied at length. “And I +was telephoning most of the time. But I can’t recall hearing any +sound. As a matter of fact, no one could have been in the +breakfast-room during those five minutes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Bliss or Mr. Salveter might have returned for some reason,” +Vance suggested. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s possible, sir,” Brush admitted dubiously. +</p> + +<p> +“Moreover, could not Hani have come down-stairs in the interim?” +</p> + +<p> +“But he was not well, sir. I took him his coffee——” +</p> + +<p> +“So you told us.… I say, Brush, was Hani in bed when you presented him +with this abominable coffee?” +</p> + +<p> +“He was lying down—on the sofa.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dressed?” +</p> + +<p> +“He had on that striped robe he usually wears round the house.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance was silent for several moments. Presently he turned to Markham. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s not what one would call a crystalline situation,” he commented. +“The samovar containing the coffee seems to have been in an almost +indecent state of exposure this morning. Observe that Mrs. Bliss and +Salveter were alone with it during breakfast, and that either one of +’em might have lingered behind for a few moments at the conclusion of +the meal, or perhaps returned. Also, Hani could have descended to the +breakfast-room as soon as Mrs. Bliss and Salveter came up-stairs. In +fact, every one in the house had an opportunity to meddle with the +coffee before Brush took the doctor’s breakfast to him.” +</p> + +<p> +“It looks that way.” Markham considered the matter morosely for a +while. Then he addressed himself to the butler. “Did you notice +anything unusual about the coffee you drew for Doctor Bliss?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why no, sir.” Brush sought unsuccessfully to hide his astonishment at +the question. “It seemed perfectly all right, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“The usual color and consistency?” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t see anything wrong with it, sir.” The man’s apprehension was +growing, and again an unhealthy pallor overspread his sallow features. +“It might have been a little strong,” he added nervously. “But Doctor +Bliss prefers his coffee very strong.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance got to his feet and yawned. +</p> + +<p> +“I could bear to have a peep at this breakfast-room and its weird +percolator. A bit of observation might help us, don’t y’ know.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham readily acceded. +</p> + +<p> +“We’d better go through the doctor’s study,” said Vance, “so as not to +rouse the curiosity of the occupants of the drawing-room.…” +</p> + +<p> +Brush led the way silently. He looked ghastly, and as he ascended the +spiral stairs ahead of us I noticed that he held tightly to the iron +railing. I could not figure him out. At times he appeared to be +entirely dissociated from the tragic events of the forenoon; but at +other times I got the distinct impression that some racking secret or +suspicion was undermining his poise. +</p> + +<p> +The breakfast-room extended, except for a small hallway, across the +entire front of the house; but it was no more than eight feet deep. +The front windows, which gave on the areaway of the street, were paned +with opaque glass and heavily curtained. The room was fitted in exotic +fashion and decorated with Egyptian designs. The breakfast-table was +at least twelve feet long and very narrow, inlaid and painted in the +decadent, rococo-esque style of the New Empire—not unlike the baroque +furniture found in the tomb of Tut-ankh-Amûn. +</p> + +<p> +On the end of the table stood the coffee samovar. It was of polished +copper and about two feet high, elevated on three sprawling legs. +Beneath it was an alcohol lamp. +</p> + +<p> +Vance, after one glance, paid scant attention to it, much to my +perplexity. He seemed far more interested in the arrangement of the +lower rooms. He put his head in the butler’s pantry between the +breakfast-room and the kitchen, and stood for several moments in the +main doorway looking up and down the narrow hallway which led from the +rear stairs to the front of the house. +</p> + +<p> +“A simple matter for any one to come to the breakfast-room without +being seen,” he observed. “I note that the kitchen door is behind the +staircase.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir—quite so, sir.” Brush’s agreement was almost eager. +</p> + +<p> +Vance appeared not to notice his manner. +</p> + +<p> +“And you say you took the doctor’s coffee to him about five minutes +after Mrs. Bliss and Mr. Salveter had gone up-stairs.… What did you do +after that, Brush?” +</p> + +<p> +“I went in to tidy up the drawing-room, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, yes—so you told us.” Vance was running his finger over the +inlaid work of one of the chairs. “And I believe you said Mrs. Bliss +left the house shortly after nine. Did you see her go?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes, sir. She stopped at the drawing-room door on her way out and +said she was going shopping, and that I should so inform Doctor Bliss +in case he asked for her.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re sure she went out?” +</p> + +<p> +Brush’s eyes opened wide: the question seemed to startle him. +</p> + +<p> +“Quite sure, sir,” he replied with much emphasis. “I opened the front +door for her.… She walked toward Fourth Avenue.” +</p> + +<p> +“And Mr. Salveter?” +</p> + +<p> +“He came down-stairs fifteen or twenty minutes later, and went out.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did he say anything to you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Only, ‘I’ll be back for lunch.’ ” +</p> + +<p> +Vance sighed deeply and looked at his watch. +</p> + +<p> +“Lunch! … My word! I’m positively famished.” He gave Markham a doleful +look. “It’s nearly three o’clock… and I’ve had nothing to-day but tea +and muffins at ten.… I say; must one starve to death simply because a +silly crime has been committed?” +</p> + +<p> +“I can serve you gentlemen——” Brush began, but Vance cut him short. +</p> + +<p> +“An excellent idea. Tea and toast would sustain us. But let us speak +to Dingle first.” +</p> + +<p> +Brush bowed and went to the kitchen. A few moments later he reappeared +with a corpulent, placid woman of about fifty. +</p> + +<p> +“This is Dingle, sir,” he said. “I took the liberty of informing her +of Mr. Kyle’s death.” +</p> + +<p> +Dingle regarded us stolidly and waited, unperturbed, her hands on her +generous hips. +</p> + +<p> +“Good-afternoon, Dingle.” Vance sat on the edge of the table. “As +Brush has told you, a serious accident has happened in this house.…” +</p> + +<p> +“An accident, is it?” The woman nodded her head sagely. “Maybe. +Anyhow, you couldn’t knock me over with a feather. What surprises me +is that something didn’t happen long ago—what with young Mr. Salveter +living in the house, and Mr. Scarlett hanging around, and the doctor +fussing with his mummies day and night. But I certainly didn’t expect +anything to happen to Mr. Kyle,—he was a very nice and liberal +gentleman.” +</p> + +<p> +“To whom did you expect something to happen, Dingle?” +</p> + +<p> +The woman set her face determinedly. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not saying—it’s none of my business. But things here ain’t +according to nature.…” Again she wagged her head shrewdly. “Now, I’ve +got a young good-looking niece who wants to marry a man of fifty, and +I says to her——” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sure you gave her excellent advice, Dingle,” Vance interrupted; +“but we’d much prefer to hear your views on the Bliss family.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’ve heard ’em.” The woman’s jaws went together with a click, and +it was obvious that neither threats nor wheedling could get any more +out of her on the subject. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, that’s quite all right.” Vance treated her refusal as of no +importance. “But there’s one other matter we’d like to know about. It +won’t compromise you in the slightest to tell us.—Did you hear any +one in this room after Mrs. Bliss and Mr. Salveter had gone up-stairs +this morning—that is, during the time you were making the toast for +the doctor’s breakfast?” +</p> + +<p> +“So that’s it, is it?” Dingle squinted and remained silent for several +moments. “Maybe I did and maybe I didn’t,” she said at length. “I +wasn’t paying any particular attention.… Who could’ve been in here?” +</p> + +<p> +“I haven’t the faintest notion.” Vance smiled engagingly. “That’s what +we’re tryin’ to find out.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is it, now?” The woman’s eyes drifted to the percolator. “Since you +ask me,” she returned, with a malevolence I could not understand at +the time, “I’ll tell you that I thought I heard some one drawing a cup +of coffee.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who did you think it was?” +</p> + +<p> +“I thought it was Brush. But at that moment he came out of the rear +hall and asked me how the toast was getting along. So I knew it wasn’t +him.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what did you think then?” +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t do any thinking.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance nodded abruptly and turned to Brush. +</p> + +<p> +“Maybe we could have that toast and tea now.” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly, sir.” He started toward the kitchen, waving Dingle before +him; but Markham halted them. +</p> + +<p> +“Bring me a small container of some kind, Brush,” he ordered. “I want +to take away the rest of the coffee in this percolator.” +</p> + +<p> +“There ain’t no coffee in it,” Dingle informed him aggressively. “I +cleaned that pesky contraption out and polished it at ten o’clock this +morning.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank Heaven for that,” sighed Vance. “Y’ know, Markham, if you had +any of that coffee to analyze, you’d be farther away from the truth +than ever.” +</p> + +<p> +With this cryptic remark he slowly lighted a cigarette and began +inspecting one of the stencilled figures on the wall. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch12"> +CHAPTER XII.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">THE TIN OF OPIUM</span> +</h3> + +<p class="center"> +(<i>Friday, July 13; 3.15 p.m.</i>) +</p> + +<p> +A few minutes later Brush served us tea and toast. +</p> + +<p> +“It is oolong tea, sir—Taiwan,” he explained proudly to Vance. “And I +did not butter the toast.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have rare intuition, Brush.” Vance spoke appreciatively. “And +what of Mrs. Bliss and Mr. Salveter? They have had no lunch.” +</p> + +<p> +“I took tea to them a little while ago. They did not wish anything +else.” +</p> + +<p> +“And Doctor Bliss?” +</p> + +<p> +“He has not rung for me, sir. But then, he often goes without lunch.” +</p> + +<p> +Ten minutes later Vance called Brush in from the kitchen. +</p> + +<p> +“Suppose you fetch Hani.” +</p> + +<p> +The butler’s eyelids fluttered. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir.” He bowed stiffly and departed. +</p> + +<p> +“There are one or two matters,” Vance explained to Markham, “that we +should clear up at once; and Hani may be able to enlighten us.… The +actual murder of Kyle is the least devilish thing about this plot. I’m +countin’ extravagantly on what we’ll learn from Salveter and Mrs. +Bliss—which is why, d’ ye see, I want to accumulate beforehand as +much ammunition as possible.” +</p> + +<p> +“Still and all,” put in Heath, “a guy was bumped off, and if I could +put my hands on the bird who did it I wouldn’t lay awake nights +worrying about plots.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re so dashed pristine, Sergeant.” Vance sipped his tea dolefully. +“Findin’ the murderer is simple. But even if you had him gyved, it +wouldn’t do you a tittle of good. He’d have you apologizin’ to him +within forty-eight hours.” +</p> + +<p> +“The hell he would!” snapped Heath. “Slip me the baby that croaked +Kyle, and I’ll show you some inside stuff that don’t get into the +newspapers.” +</p> + +<p> +“If you were to arrest the murderer now,” Vance returned mildly, “both +of you would get into the newspapers—and the stories would all go +against you. I’m savin’ you from your own impetuosity.” +</p> + +<p> +Heath snorted, but Markham looked at Vance seriously. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m beginning to fall in with your views,” he said. “The elements in +this case are damnably confused.” +</p> + +<p> +At this moment soft, measured footsteps sounded in the hall, and Hani +appeared at the door. He was calm and aloof as usual, and his immobile +face registered not the least surprise at our being in possession of +the breakfast-room. +</p> + +<p> +“Come in and sit down, Hani.” Vance’s invitation was almost too +pleasant. +</p> + +<p> +The Egyptian moved slowly toward us, but he did not take a seat. +</p> + +<p> +“I prefer to stand, <i>effendi</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s of course more comfortin’ to stand in moments of stress,” Vance +commented. +</p> + +<p> +Hani inclined his head slightly, but made no answer. His poise, +typically oriental, was colossal. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Scarlett tells us,” Vance began, without looking up, “that Mrs. +Bliss has been well provided for in Mr. Kyle’s will. This information, +Mr. Scarlett said, came from you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is it not natural,” asked Hani, in a quiet voice, “that Mr. Kyle +should have provided for his godchild?” +</p> + +<p> +“He told you he had done so?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. He always confided in me, for he knew I loved Meryt-Amen like a +father.” +</p> + +<p> +“When did he give you his confidence?” +</p> + +<p> +“Years ago—in Egypt.” +</p> + +<p> +“Who else, Hani, knew of this bequest?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think every one knew of it. He told me in the presence of Doctor +Bliss. And naturally I told Meryt-Amen.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did Mr. Salveter know about it?” +</p> + +<p> +“I told him myself.” There was a curious note in Hani’s voice, which I +could not understand at the time. +</p> + +<p> +“And you also told Mr. Scarlett.” Vance raised his eyes and studied +the Egyptian impersonally. “You’re not what I’d call the ideal +reposit’ry for a secret.” +</p> + +<p> +“I did not consider the matter a secret,” Hani returned. +</p> + +<p> +“Obviously not.” Vance rose and walked languidly to the samovar. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you happen to know if Mr. Salveter was also to be an object of Mr. +Kyle’s benefactions?” +</p> + +<p> +“I could not say with assurance.” Hani’s eyes rested dreamily on the +opposite wall. “But from certain remarks dropped by Mr. Kyle, I +gathered that Mr. Salveter was also well provided for in the will.” +</p> + +<p> +“You like Mr. Salveter—eh, what, Hani?” Vance lifted the top of the +samovar and peered into its interior. +</p> + +<p> +“He is, I have reason to think, an admirable young man.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, quite.” Vance smiled faintly, and replaced the samovar’s lid. +“And he is much nearer Mrs. Bliss’s age than Doctor Bliss.” +</p> + +<p> +Hani’s eyes flickered, and it seemed to me that he gave a slight +start. It was a momentary reaction, however. Slowly he folded his +arms, and stood like a sphinx, silent and detached. +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Bliss and Mr. Salveter will both be rich, now that Mr. Kyle is +dead.” Vance spoke casually without glancing toward the Egyptian. +After a pause he asked: “But what of Doctor Bliss’s excavations?” +</p> + +<p> +“They are probably at an end, <i>effendi</i>.” Despite Hani’s monotonous +tone there was a discernible note of triumphal satisfaction in his +words. “Why should the sacred resting-places of our noble Pharaohs be +ravaged?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sure I don’t know,” Vance said blandly. “The art unearthed is +scarcely worth considerin’. The only true art of antiquity is Chinese; +and all modern æsthetic beauty stems from the Greeks.… But this isn’t +an appropriate time to discuss the creative instinct.… Speakin’ of the +doctor’s researches, isn’t it possible that Mrs. Bliss will continue +to finance her husband’s work?” +</p> + +<p> +A black cloud fell across Hani’s face. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s possible. Meryt-Amen is a loyal wife.… And no one can tell what +a woman will do.” +</p> + +<p> +“So I’ve been told—by those unversed in feminine psychology.” Vance’s +manner was light and almost flippant. “Still, even should Mrs. Bliss +decline to assist in the continuance of the work, Mr. Salveter—with +his fanatical enthusiasm for Egyptology—might be persuaded to act as +the doctor’s financial angel.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not if it offended Meryt-Amen——” began Hani, and then stopped +abruptly. +</p> + +<p> +Vance appeared not to notice the sudden break in the other’s response. +</p> + +<p> +“You would, I suppose,” he remarked, “attempt to influence Mrs. Bliss +against helping her husband complete his excavations.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no, <i>effendi</i>.” Hani shook his head. “I would not presume to +advise her. She knows her own mind—and her loyalty to Doctor Bliss +would dictate her decision, whatever I might say.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! … Tell me, Hani, who do you consider was most benefited by the +death of Mr. Kyle?” +</p> + +<p> +“The <i>ka</i> of Intef.”<sup><a href="#n16b" id="n16a">[16]</a></sup> +</p> + +<p> +Vance raised his eyes and gave an exasperated smile. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, yes—of course.… Most helpful,” he murmured. +</p> + +<p> +“For that reason,” Hani continued, a visionary look on his face, “the +spirit of Sakhmet returned to the museum this morning and struck down +the desecrator——” +</p> + +<p> +“And,” interjected Vance, “put the financial report in the +desecrator’s hand, placed the doctor’s scarab pin beside the body, and +made bloody footprints leading to the study.… Not very fair-minded, +your lady of vengeance—in fact, a rather bad sport, don’t y’ know, +tryin’ to get some one else punished for her little flutter in crime.” +He studied the Egyptian closely through narrowed eyes; then he leaned +forward over the end of the table. When he spoke again his voice was +severe and resonant. “You’re trying to shield some one, Hani! … Who is +it?” +</p> + +<p> +The other took a deep breath, and the pupils of his eyes dilated. +</p> + +<p> +“I have told you all I know, <i>effendi</i>.” His voice was scarcely +audible. “I believe that Sakhmet——” +</p> + +<p> +“Rubbish!” Vance cut him short. Then he shrugged his shoulders and +grinned. “<i>Jawâb ul ahmaq sakût.</i>”<sup><a href="#n17b" id="n17a">[17]</a></sup> +</p> + +<p> +A shrewd gleam came into Hani’s eyes, and I thought I detected a sneer +on his mouth. +</p> + +<p> +Vance was in no wise disconcerted, however. Somehow I felt that, +despite the Egyptian’s evasiveness, he had learned what he wanted. +After a brief pause he tapped the samovar. +</p> + +<p> +“Leaving mythology to one side,” he said complaisantly, “I understand +that Mrs. Bliss sent Brush to you this morning with a cup of coffee.” +</p> + +<p> +Hani merely nodded. +</p> + +<p> +“What, by the by, was the nature of your illness?” Vance asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Since coming to this country,” the man returned, “I have suffered +from indigestion. When I awoke this morning——” +</p> + +<p> +“Most unfortunate,” Vance murmured sympathetically. “And did you find +that the one cup of coffee was sufficient for your needs?” +</p> + +<p> +Hani obviously resented the question, but there was no indication of +his feeling in his answer. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, <i>effendi</i>. I was not hungry.…” +</p> + +<p> +Vance looked mildly surprised. +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed! I was rather under the impression you came down-stairs and +drew yourself a second cup from this percolator.” +</p> + +<p> +Once more a cautious expression came over Hani’s face, and he +hesitated perceptibly before answering. +</p> + +<p> +“A second cup?” he repeated. “Here in the breakfast-room? … I was not +aware of the fact.” +</p> + +<p> +“It doesn’t matter in the least,” Vance returned. “Some one was alone +with the percolator this morning. And whoever it was—that is to say, +whoever might have been alone with it—was involved in the plot of Mr. +Kyle’s death.” +</p> + +<p> +“How could that be, <i>effendi</i>?” Hani, for the first time, appeared +vitally worried. +</p> + +<p> +Vance did not answer his query. He was leaning over the table, looking +critically at the inlay. +</p> + +<p> +“Dingle said she thought she heard some one in here after Mrs. Bliss +and Mr. Salveter had gone up-stairs after breakfast, and it occurred +to me it might have been you.…” He glanced up sharply. “It’s possible, +of course, that Mrs. Bliss returned for another cup of coffee… or even +Mr. Salveter.…” +</p> + +<p> +“It was I who was here!” Hani spoke with slow and impressive emphasis. +“I came down-stairs almost immediately after Meryt-Amen had returned +to her room. I drew myself another cup of coffee, and at once went +back up-stairs. It was I whom Dingle heard.… I lied to you a moment +ago because I had already told you, in the museum, that I had remained +in my room all the morning—my trip to the breakfast-room had slipped +my mind. I did not regard the matter as of any importance.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, well! That explains everything.” Vance smiled musingly. “And +now that you have recalled your little pilgrimage for coffee, will you +tell us who in the house possesses powdered opium?” +</p> + +<p> +I was watching Hani, and I expected to see him show some sign of fear +at Vance’s question. But only an expression of profound puzzlement +came over his stolid features. A full half minute passed before he +spoke. +</p> + +<p> +“At last I comprehend why you have questioned me concerning the +coffee,” he said. “But you are being cleverly deceived.” +</p> + +<p> +“Fancy that!” Vance stifled a yawn. +</p> + +<p> +“Bliss <i>effendi</i> was not put to sleep this morning,” the Egyptian +continued; and, despite the oracular monotone of his voice, there was +an undercurrent of hatred beneath his words. +</p> + +<p> +“Really, now! … And who said he had been put to sleep, Hani?” +</p> + +<p> +“Your interest in the coffee… your question regarding the opium.…” His +voice trailed off. +</p> + +<p> +“Well?” +</p> + +<p> +“I have no more to say.” +</p> + +<p> +“Opium,” Vance informed him, “was found in the bottom of the doctor’s +coffee cup.” +</p> + +<p> +Hani appeared genuinely startled by this news. +</p> + +<p> +“You are sure, <i>effendi</i>? … I cannot understand.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why should you understand?” Vance stepped forward and stood before +the man, searching him with a fixed look. “How much do you know about +this crime, Hani?” +</p> + +<p> +The veil of detachment again fell over the Egyptian. +</p> + +<p> +“I know nothing,” he returned sullenly. +</p> + +<p> +Vance made a gesture of impatient resignation. +</p> + +<p> +“You at least know who owned powdered opium hereabouts.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I know that. Powdered opium was part of the medical equipment on +our tours of exploration in Egypt. Bliss <i>effendi</i> had charge of it.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance waited. +</p> + +<p> +“There is a large cabinet in the hall up-stairs,” Hani continued. “All +the medical supplies are kept there.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is the door kept locked?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I do not believe so.” +</p> + +<p> +“Would you be so good as to toddle up-stairs and see if the opium is +still there?” +</p> + +<p> +Hani bowed and departed without a word. +</p> + +<p> +“Look here, Vance;”—Markham had risen and was pacing up and +down—“what earthly good can it do us to know whether the rest of the +opium is in the cabinet? … Moreover, I don’t trust Hani.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hani has been most revealin’,” Vance replied. “Let me dally with him +in my own way for a time,—he has ideas, and they’re most +interestin’.… As for the opium, I have a distinct feelin’ that the tin +of brown powder in the medicine chest will have disappeared——” +</p> + +<p> +“But why,” interrupted Markham, “should the person who extracted some +of the opium remove it all from the cabinet? He wouldn’t leave the +container on his dressing-table for the purpose of leading us directly +to him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not exactly.” Vance’s tone was grave. “But he may have sought to +throw suspicion on some one else.… That’s mere theory, however. +Anyway, I’ll be frightfully disappointed if Hani finds the tin in the +cabinet.” +</p> + +<p> +Heath was glowering. +</p> + +<p> +“It looks to me, sir,” he complained, “that one of <i>us</i> oughta looked +for that opium. You can’t trust anything that Swami says.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, but you can trust his reactions, Sergeant,” Vance answered. +“Furthermore, I had a definite object in sending Hani up-stairs +alone.” +</p> + +<p> +Again came the sound of Hani’s footsteps in the hall outside. Vance +walked to the window. Under his drooping lids he was watching the door +eagerly. +</p> + +<p> +The Egyptian entered the room with a resigned, martyr-like air. In one +hand he held a small circular tin container bearing a white-paper +label. He placed it solemnly on the table and lifted heavy eyes to +Vance. +</p> + +<p> +“I found the opium, <i>effendi</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where?” The word was spoken softly. +</p> + +<p> +Hani hesitated and dropped his gaze. +</p> + +<p> +“It was not in the cabinet,” he said. “The place on the shelf where it +was generally kept, was empty.… And then I remembered——” +</p> + +<p> +“Most convenient!” There was a sneer in Vance’s tone. “You remembered +that you yourself had taken the opium some time ago—eh, what? … +Couldn’t sleep—or something of the kind.” +</p> + +<p> +“The <i>effendi</i> understands many things.” Hani’s voice was flat and +expressionless. “Several weeks ago I was lying awake—I had not slept +well for nights—and I went to the cabinet and took the opium to my +room. I placed the container in the drawer of my own cabinet——” +</p> + +<p> +“And forgot to return it,” Vance concluded. “I do hope it cured your +insomnia.” He smiled ironically. “You are an outrageous liar, Hani. +But I do not blame you altogether——” +</p> + +<p> +“I have told you the truth.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Se non è vero, è molto ben trovato.</i>” Vance sat down, frowning. +</p> + +<p> +“I do not speak Italian.…” +</p> + +<p> +“A quotation from Bruno.” He inspected the Egyptian speculatively. +“Clawed into the vulgate, it means that, although you have not spoken +the truth, you have invented your lie very well.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, <i>effendi</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance sighed and shook his head with simulated weariness. Then he +said: +</p> + +<p> +“You were not gone long enough to have made any extensive search for +the opium. You probably found it in the first place you looked—you +had a fairly definite idea where you’d find it.…” +</p> + +<p> +“As I told you——” +</p> + +<p> +“Dash it all! Don’t be so persistent. You’re becoming very borin’.…” +Menacingly Vance rose and stepped toward the Egyptian. His eyes were +cold and his body was tense. “Where did you find that tin of opium?” +</p> + +<p> +Hani shrank away and his arms fell to his sides. +</p> + +<p> +“Where did you find the opium?” Vance repeated the question. +</p> + +<p> +“I have explained, <i>effendi</i>.” Despite the doggedness of Hani’s +manner, his tone was not convincing. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes! You’ve explained—but you haven’t told the truth. The opium was +not in your room—although you have a reason for wanting us to think +so.… A reason! What is it? … Perhaps I can guess that reason. You lied +to me because you found the opium——” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Effendi</i>! … Don’t continue. You are being deceived.…” +</p> + +<p> +“I am not being deceived by you, Hani.” (I had rarely seen Vance so +earnest.) “You unutterable ass! Don’t you understand that I knew where +you’d find the opium? Do you think I’d have sent you to look for it if +I hadn’t been pretty certain where it was? And you’ve told me—in your +circuitous Egyptian way you’ve informed me most lucidly.” Vance +relaxed and smiled. “But my real reason for sending you to search for +the sleeping-powder was to ascertain to what extent you were involved +in the plot.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you found out, <i>effendi</i>?” There were both awe and resignation in +the Egyptian’s question. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes… oh, yes.” Vance casually regarded the other. “You’re not at all +subtle, Hani. You’re only involved—you have characteristics in common +with the ostrich, which is erroneously said to bury its head in the +sand when in danger. You have merely buried your head in a tin of +opium.” +</p> + +<p> +“Vance <i>effendi</i> is too erudite for my inferior comprehension.…” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re extr’ordin’rily tiresome, Hani.” Vance turned his back and +walked to the other end of the room. “Go away, please—go quite away.” +</p> + +<p> +At this moment there was a disturbance in the hall outside. We could +hear angry voices at the end of the corridor. They became louder, and +presently Snitkin appeared at the door of the breakfast-room holding +Doctor Bliss firmly by the arm. The doctor, fully clothed and with his +hat on, was protesting volubly. His face was pale, and his eyes had a +hunted, frightened look. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s the meaning of this?” He addressed no one in particular. “I +wanted to go out to get a bit of fresh air, and this bully dragged me +down-stairs——” +</p> + +<p> +Snitkin looked toward Markham. +</p> + +<p> +“I was told by Sergeant Heath not to let any one leave the house, and +this guy tries to make a getaway. Full of hauchoor, too.… Whaddya want +done with him?” +</p> + +<p> +“I see no reason why the doctor shouldn’t take an airin’, don’t y’ +know.” Vance spoke to Markham. “We sha’n’t want to confer with him +till later.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s bully with me,” Heath agreed. “There’s too many people in this +house anyway.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham nodded to Snitkin. +</p> + +<p> +“You may let the doctor go for a walk, officer.” He shifted his gaze +to Bliss. “Please be back, sir, in half an hour or so. We’ll want to +question you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll be back before that,—I only want to go over in the park for a +while.” Bliss seemed nervous and distraught. “I feel unusually heavy +and suffocated. My ears are ringing frightfully.” +</p> + +<p> +“And, I take it,” put in Vance, “you’ve been inordinately thirsty.” +</p> + +<p> +The doctor regarded him with mild surprise. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve consumed at least a gallon of water since going to my room. I +hope I’m not in for an attack of malaria.…” +</p> + +<p> +“I hope not, sir. I believe you’ll feel perfectly normal later on.” +</p> + +<p> +Bliss hesitated on the door-sill. +</p> + +<p> +“Anything new?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, much.” Vance spoke without enthusiasm. “But we’ll talk of that +later.” +</p> + +<p> +Bliss frowned and was about to ask another question; but he changed +his mind, and bowing, went away, Snitkin trailing after him sourly. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch13"> +CHAPTER XIII.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">AN ATTEMPTED ESCAPE</span> +</h3> + +<p class="center"> +(<i>Friday, July 13; 3.45 p.m.</i>) +</p> + +<p> +It was Hani who broke the silence after Bliss’s departure. +</p> + +<p> +“You wish me to go away, <i>effendi</i>?” he asked Vance, with a respect +that struck me as overdone. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes.” Vance had become <i>distrait</i> and introspective. I knew +something was preying on his mind. He stood near the table, his hands +in his pockets, regarding the samovar intently. “Go up-stairs, Hani. +Take some sodium bicarbonate—and meditate. Divinely bend yourself, so +to speak; indulge in a bit of ‘holy exercise,’ as Shakespeare calls it +in—is it <i>Richard III</i>?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, <i>effendi</i>—in Act III. Catesby uses the phrase to the Duke of +Buckingham.” +</p> + +<p> +“Astonishin’!” Vance studied the Egyptian critically. “I had no idea +the fellahîn were so well versed in the classics.” +</p> + +<p> +“For hours at a time I read to Meryt-Amen when she was young——” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, yes.” Vance dropped the matter. “We’ll send for you when we need +you. In the meantime wait in your room.” +</p> + +<p> +Hani bowed and moved toward the hall. +</p> + +<p> +“Do not be deceived by appearances, <i>effendi</i>,” he said solemnly, +turning at the door. “I do not fully understand the things that have +happened in this house to-day; but do not forget——” +</p> + +<p> +“Thanks awfully.” Vance waved his hand in dismissal. “I at least shall +not forget that your name is Anûpu.” +</p> + +<p> +With a black look the man went out. +</p> + +<p> +Markham was growing more and more impatient. +</p> + +<p> +“Everything in this case seems to peter out,” he complained. “Any one +in the household could have put the opium in the coffee—which leaves +us just where we were before we came here to the breakfast-room.… By +the way, where do you think Hani found the can of opium?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, that? Why, in Salveter’s room, of course.… Rather obvious, don’t +y’ know.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m damned if I see anything obvious about it. Why should Salveter +have left it there?” +</p> + +<p> +“But he didn’t leave it there, old dear.… My word! Don’t you see that +some one in the house had ideas? There’s a <i>deus ex machina</i> in our +midst, and he’s troublin’ himself horribly about the situation. The +plot has been far too clever; and there’s a tutelary genius who’s +attempting to simplify matters for us.” +</p> + +<p> +Heath made a throaty noise of violent disgust. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I’m here to tell you he’s making a hell of a job of it.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance smiled sympathetically. +</p> + +<p> +“A hellish job, let us say, Sergeant.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham regarded him with a quizzical frown. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you believe, Vance, that Hani was in this room after Mrs. Bliss +and Salveter had gone up-stairs?” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s possible. In fact, it seems more likely that it was Hani than +either Mrs. Bliss or Salveter.” +</p> + +<p> +“If the front door had been unlatched,” Markham offered, “it might +conceivably have been some one from the outside.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your hypothetical thug?” asked Vance dryly. “Dropped in here, +perhaps, for a bit of caffein stimulant before tackling his victim in +the museum.” He did not give Markham time to reply, but went to the +door. “Come. Let’s chivy the occupants of the drawing-room. We need +more data—oh, many more data.” +</p> + +<p> +He led the way up-stairs. As we walked along the heavily carpeted +upper hall toward the drawing-room door, the sound of an angry +high-pitched voice came to us. Mrs. Bliss was speaking; and I caught +the final words of a sentence. +</p> + +<p> +“… should have waited.” +</p> + +<p> +Then Salveter answered in a hoarse, tense tone: +</p> + +<p> +“Meryt! You’re insane.…” +</p> + +<p> +Vance cleared his throat, and there was silence. +</p> + +<p> +Before we entered the room, however, Hennessey beckoned mysteriously +to Heath from the front of the hall. The Sergeant stepped forward past +the drawing-room door, and the rest of us, sensing some revelation, +followed him. +</p> + +<p> +“You know that bird Scarlett who you told me to let go,” Hennessey +reported in a stage whisper; “well, just as he was going out he turned +suddenly and ran up-stairs. I was going to chase him, but since you +O.K.’d him, I thought it was all right. A coupla minutes later he came +down and went away without a word. Then I got to thinking that maybe +I shoulda followed him up-stairs.…” +</p> + +<p> +“You acted correctly, Hennessey.” Vance spoke before the Sergeant +could reply. “No reason why he shouldn’t have gone up-stairs—probably +went there to speak to Doctor Bliss.” +</p> + +<p> +Hennessey appeared relieved and looked hopefully toward Heath, who +merely grunted disdainfully. +</p> + +<p> +“And, by the by, Hennessey,” Vance continued; “when the Egyptian came +up-stairs the first time, did he go directly to the floor above, or +did he tarry in the drawing-room <i>en route</i>?” +</p> + +<p> +“He went in and spoke to the missus.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you hear anything he said?” +</p> + +<p> +“Naw. It sounded to me like they was parleying in one of those foreign +languages.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance turned to Markham and said in a low voice: “That’s why I sent +Hani up-stairs alone. I had an idea he’d grasp the opportunity to +commune with Mrs. Bliss.” He again spoke to Hennessey. “How long was +Hani in the drawing-room?” +</p> + +<p> +“A minute or two maybe—not long.” The detective was growing +apprehensive. “Shouldn’t I have let him go in?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, certainly.… And then what happened?” +</p> + +<p> +“The guy comes outa the room, looking worried, and goes up-stairs. +Pretty soon he comes down again carrying a tin can in his hand. ‘What +you got there, Abdullah?’ I asks. ‘Something Mr. Vance sent me to get. +Any objection?’ he says. ‘Not if you’re on the level; but I don’t like +your looks,’ I answers. And then he gives me the high hat and goes +down-stairs.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perfect, Hennessey.” Vance nodded encouragingly and, taking Markham +by the arm, walked back toward the drawing-room. “I think we’d better +question Mrs. Bliss.” +</p> + +<p> +As we entered the woman rose to greet us. She had been sitting by the +front window, and Salveter was leaning against the folding doors +leading to the dining-room. They had obviously taken these positions +when they heard us in the hall, for as we came up-stairs they had been +speaking at very close quarters. +</p> + +<p> +“We are sorry to have to annoy you, Mrs. Bliss,” Vance began, +courteously. “But it’s necess’ry that we question you at this time.” +</p> + +<p> +She waited without the slightest movement or change of expression, and +I distinctly received the impression that she was resentful of our +intrusion. +</p> + +<p> +“And you, Mr. Salveter,” Vance went on, shifting his gaze to the man, +“will please go to your room. We’ll confer with you later.” +</p> + +<p> +Salveter seemed disconcerted and worried. +</p> + +<p> +“May I not be present——?” he began. +</p> + +<p> +“You may not,” Vance cut in with unwonted severity; and I noticed that +even Markham was somewhat surprised at his manner. “Hennessey!” Vance +called toward the door, and the detective appeared almost +simultaneously. “Escort this gentleman to his room, and see that he +communicates with no one until we send for him.” +</p> + +<p> +Salveter, with an appealing look toward Mrs. Bliss, walked out of the +room, the detective at his side. +</p> + +<p> +“Pray be seated, madam.” Vance approached the woman and, after she had +sat down, took a chair facing her. “We are going to ask you several +intimate questions, and if you really want the murderer of Mr. Kyle +brought to justice you will not resent those questions but will answer +them frankly.” +</p> + +<p> +“The murderer of Mr. Kyle is a despicable and unworthy creature,” she +answered in a hard, strained voice; “and I will gladly do anything I +can to help you.” She did not look at Vance, but concentrated her gaze +on an enormous honey-colored carnelian ring of intaglio design which +she wore on the forefinger of her right hand. +</p> + +<p> +Vance’s eyebrows went up slightly. +</p> + +<p> +“You think, then, we did right in releasing your husband?” +</p> + +<p> +I could not understand the purport of Vance’s question; and the +woman’s answer confused me still further. She raised her head slowly +and regarded each one of us in turn. Finally she said: +</p> + +<p> +“Doctor Bliss is a very patient man. Many people have wronged him. I +am not even sure that Hani is altogether loyal to him. But my husband +is not a fool—he is even too clever at times. I do not put murder +beyond him—or beyond any one, for that matter. Murder may sometimes +be the highest form of courage. However, if my husband had killed Mr. +Kyle he would not have been stupid about it—certainly he would not +have left evidence pointing to himself.…” She glanced again at her +folded hands. “But if he had been contemplating murder, Mr. Kyle would +not have been the object of his crime. There are others whom he had +more reason for wanting out of the way.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hani, for instance?” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps.” +</p> + +<p> +“Or Mr. Salveter?” +</p> + +<p> +“Almost any one but Mr. Kyle,” the woman answered, without a +perceptible modulation of voice. +</p> + +<p> +“Anger could have dictated the murder.” Vance spoke like a man +discussing a purely academic topic. “If Mr. Kyle had refused to +continue financing the excavations——” +</p> + +<p> +“You do not know my husband. He has the most equable temper I have +ever seen. Passion is alien to his nature. He makes no move without +long deliberation.” +</p> + +<p> +“The scholar’s mind,” Vance murmured. “Yes, I have always had that +impression of him.” He took out his cigarette-case. “Do you mind if I +smoke?” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you mind if <i>I</i> do?” +</p> + +<p> +Vance leapt to his feet and extended his case. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah—<i>Régies</i>!” She selected a cigarette. “You are very fortunate, +Mr. Vance. There were none left in Turkey when I applied for a +shipment.” +</p> + +<p> +“I am doubly fortunate that I am able to offer you one.” Vance lighted +her cigarette and resumed his seat. “Who, do you think, Mrs. Bliss, +was most benefited by Mr. Kyle’s death?” He put the question +carelessly, but I could see he was watching her closely. +</p> + +<p> +“I couldn’t say.” The woman was clearly on her guard. +</p> + +<p> +“But surely,” pursued Vance, “some one benefited by his death. +Otherwise he would not have been murdered.” +</p> + +<p> +“That point is one the police should ascertain. I can give you no +assistance along that line.” +</p> + +<p> +“It may be that the police have satisfied themselves, and that I +merely asked you for corroboration.” Vance, while courteous, spoke +with somewhat pointed significance. “Lookin’ at the matter coldly, the +police might argue that the sudden demise of Mr. Kyle would remove a +thorn from Hani’s side and end the so-called desecration of his +ancestors’ tombs. Then again, the police might hold that Mr. Kyle’s +death would enrich both you and Mr. Salveter.” +</p> + +<p> +I expected the woman to resent this remark of Vance’s, but she only +glanced up with a frigid smile and said in a dispassionate tone: +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I do believe there was a will naming Mr. Salveter and myself as +the principal beneficiaries.” +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Scarlett informed us to that effect,” Vance returned. “Quite +understandable, don’t y’ know.… And by the by, would you be willing to +use your inheritance to perpetuate Doctor Bliss’s work in Egypt?” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly,” she replied with unmistakable emphasis. “If he asked me +to help him, the money would be his to do with as he desired.… +Especially now,” she added. +</p> + +<p> +Vance’s face had grown cold and stern, and after a quick upward glance +he dropped his eyes and contemplated his cigarette. +</p> + +<p> +Markham rose at this moment. +</p> + +<p> +“Who, Mrs. Bliss,” he asked, with what I regarded as unnecessary +aggression, “would have had an object in attempting to saddle your +husband with this crime?” +</p> + +<p> +The woman’s gaze faltered, but only momentarily. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sure I don’t know,” she returned. “Did some one really try to do +that?” +</p> + +<p> +“You suggested as much yourself, madam, when the scarab pin was called +to your attention. You said quite positively that some one had placed +it beside Mr. Kyle’s body.” +</p> + +<p> +“What if I did?” She became suddenly defiant. “My initial instinct was +naturally to defend my husband.” +</p> + +<p> +“Against whom?” +</p> + +<p> +“Against you and the police.” +</p> + +<p> +“Do you regret that ‘initial instinct’?” Markham put the question +brusquely. +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly not!” The woman stiffened in her chair and glanced +surreptitiously toward the door. +</p> + +<p> +Vance noted her action and drawled: +</p> + +<p> +“It is only one of the detectives in the hall. Mr. Salveter is +sojourning in his boudoir—quite out of hearing.” +</p> + +<p> +Quickly she covered her face with her hands, and a shudder ran over +her body. +</p> + +<p> +“You are torturing me,” she moaned. +</p> + +<p> +“And you are watching me through your fingers,” said Vance with a mild +grin. +</p> + +<p> +She rose swiftly and glared ferociously at him. +</p> + +<p> +“Please don’t say ‘How dare you?’ ” Vance spoke banteringly. “The +phrase is so trite. And do sit down again.… Hani informed you, I +believe—in your native language—that Doctor Bliss was supposed to +have been given opium in his coffee this morning. What else did he +tell you?” +</p> + +<p> +“That was all he said.” The woman resumed her seat: she appeared +exhausted. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you know that opium was kept in the cabinet up-stairs?” +</p> + +<p> +“I wasn’t aware of it,” she replied listlessly; “though I’m not +surprised.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did Mr. Salveter know of it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, undoubtedly—if it was actually there. He and Mr. Scarlett had +charge of the medical supplies.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance shot her a quick look. +</p> + +<p> +“Although Hani would not admit it,” he said, “I am pretty sure that +the tin of opium was found in Mr. Salveter’s room.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes?” (I could not help feeling that she rather expected this news. +Certainly, it was no surprise to her.) +</p> + +<p> +“On the other hand,” pursued Vance, “it might have been found by Hani +in <i>your</i> room.” +</p> + +<p> +“Impossible! It couldn’t have been in my room!” She flared up, but on +meeting Vance’s steady gaze, subsided. “That is, I don’t see how it +could be possible,” she ended weakly. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m probably wrong,” Vance murmured. “But tell me, Mrs. Bliss: did +you return to the breakfast-room this morning for another cup of +coffee, after you and Mr. Salveter had gone up-stairs?” +</p> + +<p> +“I—I.…” She took a deep breath. “Yes! … Was there any crime in that?” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you meet Hani there?” +</p> + +<p> +After a brief hesitation she answered: +</p> + +<p> +“No. He was in his room—ill.… I sent him his coffee.” +</p> + +<p> +Heath grunted disgustedly. +</p> + +<p> +“A lot we’re finding out,” he growled. +</p> + +<p> +“Quite right, Sergeant,” Vance agreed pleasantly. “An amazin’ amount. +Mrs. Bliss is helpin’ us no end.” He turned to the woman again. “You +know, of course, who killed Mr. Kyle?” he asked blandly. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes… I know!” The words were spoken with impulsive venom. +</p> + +<p> +“And you also know why he was killed?” +</p> + +<p> +“I know that, too.” A sudden change had come over her. A strange +combination of fear and animus possessed her; and the tragic +bitterness of her attitude stunned me. +</p> + +<p> +Heath let forth a queer, inarticulate ejaculation. +</p> + +<p> +“You tell us who it was,” he blurted vindictively, shaking his cigar +in her face, “or I’ll arrest you as an accessory, or as a material +witness.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Tut, tut, Sergeant!” Vance rose and placed his hand pacifyingly on +the other’s shoulder. “Why be so precipitate? It wouldn’t do you the +slightest good to incarcerate Mrs. Bliss at this time.… And, d’ ye +see, she may be wholly wrong in her diagnosis of the case.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham projected himself into the scene. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you any definite reasons for your opinion, Mrs. Bliss?” he +asked. “Have you any specific evidence against the murderer?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not legal evidence,” she answered quietly. “But—but.…” Her voice +faltered, and her head fell forward. +</p> + +<p> +“You left the house about nine o’clock this morning, I believe.” +Vance’s calm voice seemed to steady her. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—shortly after breakfast.” +</p> + +<p> +“Shopping?” +</p> + +<p> +“I took a taxi at Fourth Avenue to Altman’s. I didn’t see what I +wanted there, and walked to the subway. I went to Wanamaker’s, and +later returned to Lord and Taylor’s. Then I went to Saks’s, and +finally dropped in at a little shop on Madison Avenue.…” +</p> + +<p> +“The usual routine,” sighed Vance. “You of course bought nothing?” +</p> + +<p> +“I ordered a hat on Madison Avenue.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Remarkable!” Vance caught Markham’s eye and nodded significantly. “I +think that will be all for the present, Mrs. Bliss,” he said. “You +will kindly go to your room and wait there.” +</p> + +<p> +The woman pressed a small handkerchief to her eyes, and left us +without a word. +</p> + +<p> +Vance walked to the window and gazed out into the street. He was, I +could see, deeply troubled as a result of the interview. He opened the +window, and the droning summer noises of the street drifted in to us. +He stood for several minutes in silence, and neither Markham nor Heath +interrupted his meditations. At length he turned and, without looking +at us, said in a quiet, introspective tone: +</p> + +<p> +“There are too many cross-currents in this house—too many motives, +too many objects to be gained, too many emotional complications. A +plausible case could be made out against almost any one.…” +</p> + +<p> +“But who could have benefited by Bliss’s entanglement in the crime?” +Markham asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, my word!” Vance leaned against the centre-table and gazed at a +large oil portrait of the doctor which hung on the east wall. “Every +one apparently. Hani doesn’t like his employer and writhes in psychic +agony at each basketful of sand that is excavated from Intef’s tomb. +Salveter is infatuated with Mrs. Bliss, and naturally her husband is +an obstacle to his suit. As for the lady herself: I do not wish to +wrong her, but I’m inclined to believe she returns the young +gentleman’s affection. If so, the elimination of Bliss would not drive +her to suicidal grief.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham’s face clouded. +</p> + +<p> +“I got the impression, too, that Scarlett was not entirely impervious +to her charms and that there was a chilliness between him and +Salveter.” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite. <i>Ça crève les yeux.</i>” Vance nodded abstractedly. “Mrs. Bliss +is undeniably fascinatin’.… I say; if only I could find the clew I’m +looking for! Y’ know, Markham, I’ve an idea that something new is +going to happen anon. The plot thus far has gone awry. We’ve been led +into a Moorish maze by the murderer, but the key hasn’t yet been +placed in our hands. When it is, I’ll know which door it’ll +unlock—and it won’t be the door the murderer intends us to use it on. +Our difficulty now is that we have too many clews; and not one of ’em +is the real clew. That’s why we can’t make an arrest. We must wait for +the plot to unfold.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s unfolding, as you call it, too swift for me,” Heath retorted +impatiently. “And I don’t mind admitting that I think we’re getting +sidetracked. After all’s said and done, weren’t Bliss’s finger-prints +found on the statue, and no one else’s? Wasn’t his stick-pin found +beside the body? And didn’t he have every opportunity to bump Kyle +off? …” +</p> + +<p> +“Sergeant,”—Vance spoke patiently—“would a man of intelligence and +profound scientific training commit a murder and not only overlook his +finger-prints on the weapon, but also be so careless as to drop his +scarf-pin at the scene of the murder, and then calmly wait in the next +room for the police to arrest him, after having made bloody footprints +to guide them?” +</p> + +<p> +“And there’s the opium, too, Sergeant,” added Markham. “It seems +pretty clear to me that the doctor was drugged.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have it your own way, sir.” Heath’s tone bordered on impoliteness. +“But I don’t see that we’re getting anywheres.” +</p> + +<p> +As he spoke Emery came to the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Telephone call for you, Sergeant,” he announced. “Down-stairs.” +</p> + +<p> +Heath hurried eagerly from the room and disappeared down the hall. +Three or four minutes later he returned. His face was wreathed in +smiles, and he swaggered as he walked toward Vance. +</p> + +<p> +“Huh!” He inserted his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat. “Your +good friend Bliss has just tried to make a getaway. My man, +Guilfoyle,<sup><a href="#n18b" id="n18a">[18]</a></sup> who I’d phoned to tail the doctor, picked him up as he +came out of this house for his walk in the park. But he didn’t go to +the park, Mr. Vance. He beat it over to Fourth Avenue and went to the +Corn Exchange Bank at Twenty-ninth Street. It was after hours, but he +knew the manager and didn’t have no trouble getting his money.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Money?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure! He drew out everything he had in the bank—got it in twenties, +fifties and hundreds—and then took a taxi. Guilfoyle hopped another +taxi and followed him up-town. He got off at Grand Central Station and +hurried to the ticket office. ‘When’s the next train for Montreal?’ he +asked. ‘Four forty-five,’ the guy told him. ‘Gimme a through ticket,’ +he said.… It was then four o’clock; and the doc walked to the gate and +stood there, waiting. Guilfoyle came up to him and said: ‘Going for a +jaunt to Canada?’ The doc got haughty and refused to answer. ‘Anyway,’ +said Guilfoyle, ‘I don’t think you’ll leave the country to-day.’ And +taking the doc by the arm, he led him to a telephone booth.… +Guilfoyle’s on his way here with your innocent friend.” The Sergeant +rocked back and forth on his feet. “What do you think of that, sir?” +</p> + +<p> +Vance regarded him lugubriously. +</p> + +<p> +“And that is taken as another sign of the doctor’s guilt?” He shook +his head hopelessly. “Is it possible that you regard such a childish +attempt of escape as incriminating? … I say, Sergeant; mightn’t that +come under the head of panic on the part of an impractical scientist?” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure it might.” Heath laughed unpleasantly. “All crooks and killers +get scared and try to make a getaway. But it don’t prove their +lily-white innocence.” +</p> + +<p> +“Still, Sergeant,”—Vance’s voice was discouraged—“a murderer who +accidentally left clews on every hand pointing directly to himself and +then indulged in this final stupid folly of trying to escape would not +be exactly bright. And, I assure you, Doctor Bliss is neither an +imbecile nor a lunatic.” +</p> + +<p> +“Them’s mere words, Mr. Vance,” declared the Sergeant doggedly. “This +bird made a coupla mistakes and, seeing he was caught, tried to get +outa the country. And, I’m here to tell you, that’s running true to +form.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, my aunt—my precious, dodderin’ aunt!” Vance sank into a large +chair and let his head fall back wearily against the lace +antimacassar. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch14"> +CHAPTER XIV.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">A HIEROGLYPHIC LETTER</span> +</h3> + +<p class="center"> +(<i>Friday, July 13; 4.15 p.m.</i>) +</p> + +<p> +Markham got up irritably and walked the length of the room and back. +As always in moments of perplexity his hands were clasped behind him, +and his head was projected forward. +</p> + +<p> +“Damn your various aunts!” he growled, as he came abreast of Vance. +“You’re always calling on an aunt. Haven’t you any uncles?” +</p> + +<p> +Vance opened his eyes and smiled blandly. +</p> + +<p> +“I know how you feel.” Despite the lightness of his tone there was +unmistakable sympathy in his words. “No one is acting as he should in +this case. It’s as if every one were in a conspiracy to confuse and +complicate matters for us.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s just it!” Markham fumed. “On the other hand, there’s something +in what the Sergeant says. Why should Bliss——?” +</p> + +<p> +“Too much theory, Markham old dear,” Vance interrupted. “Oh, much too +much theory… too much speculation… too many futile questions. There’s +a key coming, and it’ll explain everything. Our immediate task, it +seems to me, is to find that key.” +</p> + +<p> +“Sure!” Heath spoke with heavy sarcasm. “Suppose I begin punching the +furniture with hat-pins and ripping up the carpets.…” +</p> + +<p> +Markham snapped his fingers impatiently, and Heath subsided. +</p> + +<p> +“Let’s get down to earth.” He regarded Vance with vindictive +shrewdness. “You’ve got some pretty definite idea; and all your +maunderings couldn’t convince me to the contrary.—What do you suggest +we do next?—interview Salveter?” +</p> + +<p> +“Precisely.” Vance nodded with unwonted seriousness. “That bigoted lad +fits conspicuously into the picture; and his presence on the tapis now +is, as the medicos say, indicated.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham made a sign to Heath, who immediately rose and went to the +drawing-room door and bellowed up the staircase. +</p> + +<p> +“Hennessey! … Bring that guy down here. We got business with him.” +</p> + +<p> +A few moments later Salveter was piloted into the room. His eyes were +flashing, and he planted himself aggressively before Vance, cramming +his hands violently into his trousers’ pockets. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, here I am,” he announced with belligerence. “Got the handcuffs +ready?” +</p> + +<p> +Vance yawned elaborately and inspected the newcomer with a bored +expression. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t be so virile, Mr. Salveter,” he drawled. “We’re all worn out +with this depressin’ case, and simply can’t endure any more vim and +vigor. Sit down and let the joints go free.… As for the manacles, +Sergeant Heath has ’em beautifully polished. Would you like to try ’em +on?” +</p> + +<p> +“Maybe,” Salveter returned, watching Vance calculatingly. “What did +you say to Meryt—to Mrs. Bliss?” +</p> + +<p> +“I gave her one of my <i>Régies</i>,” Vance told him carelessly. “Most +appreciative young woman.… Would you care for one yourself? I’ve two +left.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thanks—I smoke Deities.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ever dip ’em in opium?” Vance asked dulcetly. +</p> + +<p> +“Opium?” +</p> + +<p> +“The concrete juice of the poppy, so to speak—obtained from slits in +the cortex of the capsule of <i>Papaver somniferum</i>. Greek word: +<i>opion</i>—to wit: omicron, pi, iota, omicron, nu.” +</p> + +<p> +“No!” Salveter sat down suddenly and shifted his gaze. “What’s the +idea?” +</p> + +<p> +“There seems to be an abundance of opium in the house, don’t y’ know.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, is there?” The man looked up warily. +</p> + +<p> +“Didn’t you know?” Vance selected one of his two remaining cigarettes. +“We thought you and Mr. Scarlett had charge of the medical supplies.” +</p> + +<p> +Salveter started and remained silent for several moments. +</p> + +<p> +“Did Meryt-Amen tell you that?” he asked finally. +</p> + +<p> +“Is it true?” There was a new note in Vance’s voice. +</p> + +<p> +“In a way,” the other admitted. “Doctor Bliss——” +</p> + +<p> +“What about the opium?” Vance leaned forward. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, there has always been opium in the cabinet up-stairs—nearly a +canful.” +</p> + +<p> +“Have you had it in your room lately?” +</p> + +<p> +“No… yes.… I——” +</p> + +<p> +“Thanks awfully. We take our choice of answers, what?” +</p> + +<p> +“Who said there was opium in my room?” Salveter squared his shoulders. +</p> + +<p> +Vance leaned back in his chair. +</p> + +<p> +“It really doesn’t matter. Anyway, there’s no opium there now.… I say, +Mr. Salveter; did you return to the breakfast-room this morning after +you and Mrs. Bliss had gone up-stairs?” +</p> + +<p> +“I did not! … That is,” he amended, “I don’t remember.…” +</p> + +<p> +Vance rose abruptly and stood menacingly before him. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t try to guess what Mrs. Bliss told us. If you don’t care to +answer my questions, I’ll turn you over to the Homicide Bureau—and +God help you! … We’re here to learn the truth, and we want straight +answers.—Did you return to the breakfast-room?” +</p> + +<p> +“No—I did not.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s much better—oh, much!” Vance sighed and resumed his seat. +“And now, Mr. Salveter, we must ask you a very intimate question.—Are +you in love with Mrs. Bliss?” +</p> + +<p> +“I refuse to answer!” +</p> + +<p> +“Good! But you would not be entirely broken-hearted if Doctor Bliss +should be gathered to his fathers?” +</p> + +<p> +Salveter clamped his jaws and said nothing. +</p> + +<p> +Vance contemplated him ruminatingly. +</p> + +<p> +“I understand,” he said amicably, “that Mr. Kyle has left you a +considerable fortune in his will.… If Doctor Bliss should ask you to +finance the continuation of his excavations in Egypt, would you do +it?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’d insist upon it, even if he did not ask me.” A fanatical light +shone in Salveter’s eyes. “That is,” he added, as a reasoned +afterthought, “if Meryt-Amen approved. I would not care to go against +her wishes.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” Vance had lit his cigarette and was smoking dreamily. “And do +you think she would disapprove?” +</p> + +<p> +Salveter shook his head. +</p> + +<p> +“No, I think she would do whatever the doctor wanted.” +</p> + +<p> +“A dutiful wife—<i>quoi</i>?” +</p> + +<p> +Salveter bristled and sat up. +</p> + +<p> +“She’s the straightest, most loyal——” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes.” Vance exhaled a spiral of cigarette smoke. “Spare me your +adjectives.… I take it, however, she’s not entirely ecstatic with her +choice of a life mate.” +</p> + +<p> +“If she wasn’t,” Salveter returned angrily, “she wouldn’t show it.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance nodded uninterestedly. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you think of Hani?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“He’s a dumb beast—a good soul, though. Adores Mrs. Bliss.…” Salveter +stiffened and his eyes opened wide. “Good God, Mr. Vance! You don’t +think——” He broke off in horror; then he shook himself. “I see what +you’re getting at. But… but.… Those degenerate modern Egyptians! +They’re all alike—oriental dogs, every one of ’em. No sense of right +and wrong—superstitious devils—but loyal as they make ’em. I +wonder.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite. We’re all wonderin’.” Vance was apparently unimpressed by +Salveter’s outbreak. “But, as you say, he’s pretty close to Mrs. +Bliss. He’d do a great deal for her—eh, what? Might even risk his +neck, don’t y’ know, if he thought her happiness was at stake. Of +course, he might need a bit of coaching.…” +</p> + +<p> +A hard light shone in Salveter’s eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“You’re on the wrong tack. Nobody coached Hani. He’s capable of acting +for himself——” +</p> + +<p> +“And throwing the suspicion on some one else?” Vance looked at the +other. “I’d say the planting of that scarab pin was a bit too subtle +for a mere fellah.” +</p> + +<p> +“You think so?” Salveter was almost contemptuous. “You don’t know +those people the way I do. The Egyptians were working out intricate +plots when the Nordic race were arboreans.” +</p> + +<p> +“Bad anthropology,” murmured Vance. “And you’re doubtless thinkin’ of +Herodotus’s silly story of the treasure house of King Rhampsinitus. +Personally, I think the priests were spoofing the papa of history.… By +the by, Mr. Salveter; do you know any one round here, besides Doctor +Bliss, who uses Koh-i-noor pencils?” +</p> + +<p> +“Didn’t even know the doctor used ’em.” The man flicked his cigarette +ashes on the carpet and brushed his foot over them. +</p> + +<p> +“You didn’t by any chance see Doctor Bliss this morning?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. When I came down to breakfast Brush told me he was working in the +study.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you go into the museum this morning before you went on your +errand to the Metropolitan?” +</p> + +<p> +Salveter’s eyes blinked rapidly. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes!” he blurted finally. “I generally go into the museum every +morning after breakfast—a kind of habit. I like to see that +everything is all right—that nothing has happened during the night. +I’m the assistant curator; and, aside from my responsibility, I’m +tremendously interested in the place. It’s my duty to keep an eye on +things.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance nodded understandingly. +</p> + +<p> +“What time did you enter the museum this morning?” +</p> + +<p> +Salveter hesitated. Then throwing his head back he looked +challengingly at Vance. +</p> + +<p> +“I left the house a little after nine. When I got to Fifth Avenue it +suddenly occurred to me I hadn’t made an inspection of the museum; and +for some reason I was worried. I couldn’t tell you why I felt that +way—but I did. Maybe because of the new shipment that arrived +yesterday. Anyway, I turned back, let myself in with my key, and went +into the museum——” +</p> + +<p> +“About half past nine?” +</p> + +<p> +“That would be about right.” +</p> + +<p> +“And no one saw you re-enter the house?” +</p> + +<p> +“I hardly think so. In any event, I didn’t see any one.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance gazed at him languidly. +</p> + +<p> +“Suppose you finish the recital.… If you don’t care to, I’ll finish it +for you.” +</p> + +<p> +“You won’t have to.” Salveter tossed his cigarette into a cloisonné +dish on the table and drew himself resolutely to the edge of his +chair. “I’ll tell you all there is to tell. Then if you’re not +satisfied, you can order my arrest—and the hell with you!” +</p> + +<p> +Vance sighed and let his head fall back. +</p> + +<p> +“Such energy!” he breathed. “But why be vulgar? … I take it you saw +your uncle before you finally quitted the museum for the Great +American Mausoleum on the Avenue.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—I saw him!” Salveter’s eyes flashed and his chin shot forward. +“Now, make something out of that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Really, I can’t be bothered. Much too fatiguin’.” Vance did not even +look at the man: his eyes, half closed, were resting on an +old-fashioned crystal chandelier which hung low over the centre-table. +“Since you saw your uncle,” he said, “you must have remained in the +museum for at least half an hour.” +</p> + +<p> +“Just about.” Salveter obviously could not understand Vance’s +indifferent attitude. “The fact is I got interested in a papyrus we +picked up last winter, and tried to work out a few of the words that +stumped me. There were the words <i>ankhet</i>, <i>wash</i>, and <i>tema</i> that I +couldn’t translate.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance frowned slightly; then his eyebrows lifted. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Ankhet</i>… <i>wash</i>… <i>tema</i>.…” He iterated the words slowly. “Was the +<i>ankhet</i> written with or without a determinative?” +</p> + +<p> +Salveter did not answer at once. +</p> + +<p> +“With the animal-skin determinative,” he said presently. +</p> + +<p> +“And was the next word really <i>wash</i> and not <i>was</i>?” +</p> + +<p> +Again he hesitated, and looked uneasily at Vance. +</p> + +<p> +“It was <i>wash</i>, I think.… And <i>tema</i> was written with a double flail.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not the sledge ideogram, eh? … Now, that’s most interestin’.—And +during your linguistic throes your uncle walked in.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. I was sitting at the little desk-table by the obelisk when Uncle +Ben opened the door. I heard him say something to Brush, and I got up +to greet him. It was rather dark, and he didn’t see me till he’d +reached the floor of the museum.” +</p> + +<p> +“And then?” +</p> + +<p> +“I knew he wanted to inspect the new treasures; so I ran along. Went +to the Metropolitan——” +</p> + +<p> +“Your uncle seemed in normal good spirits when he came into the +museum?” +</p> + +<p> +“About as usual—a bit grouchy perhaps. He was never over-pleasant in +the forenoons. But that didn’t mean anything.” +</p> + +<p> +“You left the museum immediately after greeting him?” +</p> + +<p> +“At once. I hadn’t realized I’d been so long fussing over the papyrus; +and I hurried away. Another thing, I knew he’d come to see Doctor +Bliss on a pretty important matter, and I didn’t want to be in the +way.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance nodded but gave no indication whether or not he unreservedly +accepted the other’s statements. He sat smoking lazily, his eyes +impassive and mild. +</p> + +<p> +“And during the next twenty minutes,” he mused, “—that is between ten +o’clock and ten-twenty, at which time Mr. Scarlett entered the +museum—your uncle was killed.” +</p> + +<p> +Salveter winced. +</p> + +<p> +“So it seems,” he mumbled. “But”—he shot his jaw out—“I didn’t have +anything to do with it! That’s straight,—take it or leave it.” +</p> + +<p> +“There, now; don’t be indelicate,” Vance admonished him quietly. “I +don’t have to take it and I don’t have to leave it, d’ ye see? I may +choose merely to dally with it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Dally and be damned!” +</p> + +<p> +Vance got to his feet leisurely, and there was a chilly smile on his +face—a smile more deadly than any contortion of anger could have +been. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t like your language, Mr. Salveter,” he said slowly. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, don’t you!” The man sprang up, his fists clenched, and swung +viciously. Vance, however, stepped back with the quickness of a cat, +and caught the other by the wrist. Then he made a swift, pivotal +movement to the right, and Salveter’s pinioned arm was twisted upward +behind his shoulder-blades. With an involuntary cry of pain, the man +fell to his knees. (I recalled the way in which Vance had saved +Markham from an attack in the District Attorney’s office at the close +of the Benson murder case.) Heath and Hennessey stepped forward, but +Vance motioned them away with his free hand. +</p> + +<p> +“I can manage this impetuous gentleman,” he said. Then he lifted +Salveter to his feet and shoved him back into his chair. “A little +lesson in manners,” he remarked pleasantly. “And now you will please +be civil and answer my questions, or I’ll be compelled to have +you—<i>and Mrs. Bliss</i>—arrested for conspiring to murder Mr. Kyle.” +</p> + +<p> +Salveter was completely subdued. He looked at his antagonist in +ludicrous amazement. Then suddenly Vance’s words seemed to seep into +his astonished brain. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Mrs. Bliss?</i>… She had nothing to do with it, I tell you!” His tone, +though highly animated, was respectful. “If it’ll save her from any +suspicion, I’ll confess to the crime.…” +</p> + +<p> +“No need for any such heroism.” Vance had resumed his seat and was +again smoking calmly. “But you might tell us why, when you came into +the museum this afternoon and learned of your uncle’s death, you +didn’t mention the fact that you’d seen him at ten o’clock.” +</p> + +<p> +“I—I was too upset—too shocked,” the man stammered. “And I was +afraid. Self-protective instinct, maybe. I can’t explain—really I +can’t. I should have told you, I suppose… but—but——” +</p> + +<p> +Vance helped him out. +</p> + +<p> +“But you didn’t care to involve yourself in a crime of which you were +innocent. Yes… yes. Quite natural. Thought you’d wait and find out if +any one had seen you.… I say, Mr. Salveter; don’t you know that, if +you had admitted being with your uncle at ten o’clock, it would have +been a point in your favor?” +</p> + +<p> +Salveter had become sullen, and before he could answer Vance went on. +</p> + +<p> +“Leavin’ these speculations to one side, could we prevail upon you to +tell us exactly what you did in the museum between half past nine and +ten o’clock?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve already told you.” Salveter was troubled and <i>distrait</i>. “I was +comparing an Eighteenth-Dynasty papyrus recently found by Doctor Bliss +at Thebes with Luckenbill’s translation of the hexagonal prism of the +Annals of Sennacherib<sup><a href="#n19b" id="n19a">[19]</a></sup> in order to determine certain values +for——” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re romancing frightfully, Mr. Salveter,” Vance broke in quietly. +“And you’re indulgin’ in an anachronism. The Sennacherib prism is in +Babylonian cuneiform, and dates almost a thousand years later.” He +lifted his eyes sternly. “What were you doing in the museum this +morning?” +</p> + +<p> +Salveter started forward in his chair, but at once sank back. +</p> + +<p> +“I was writing a letter,” he answered weakly. +</p> + +<p> +“To whom?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’d rather not say.” +</p> + +<p> +“Naturally.” Vance smiled faintly. “In what language?” +</p> + +<p> +An immediate change came over the man. His face went pale, and his +hands, which were lying along his knees, convulsed. +</p> + +<p> +“What language?” he repeated huskily. “Why do you ask that? … What +language would I be likely to write a letter in—Bantu, Sanskrit, +Walloon, Ido… ?” +</p> + +<p> +“No-o.” Vance’s gaze came slowly to rest on Salveter. “Nor did I have +in mind Aramaic, or Agao, or Swahili, or Sumerian.… The fact is, it +smote my brain a moment ago that you were composin’ an epistle in +Egyptian hieroglyphics.” +</p> + +<p> +The man’s eyes dilated. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, in Heaven’s name,” he asked lamely, “should I do a thing like +that?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why? Ah, yes—why, indeed?” Vance sighed deeply. “But, really, y’ +know, you were composin’ in Egyptian—weren’t you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Was I? What makes you think so?” +</p> + +<p> +“Must I explain? … It’s so deuced simple.” Vance put out his cigarette +and made a slight deprecatory gesture. “I could even guess for whom +the epistle was intended. Unless I’m hopelessly mistaken, Mrs. Bliss +was to have been the recipient.” Again Vance smiled musingly. “Y’ see, +you mentioned three words in the imagin’ry papyrus, which you have not +yet satisfactorily translated—<i>ankhet</i>, <i>wash</i>, and <i>tema</i>. But since +there are scores of Egyptian words that have thus far resisted +accurate translation, I wondered why you should have mentioned these +particular three. And I further wondered why you should have mentioned +three words whose meaning you did not recall, which so closely +approximate three very familiar words in Egyptian.… And then I +bethought me as to the meaning of these three familiar words. +<i>Ankh</i>—without a determinative—can mean the ‘living one.’ +<i>Was</i>—which is close to <i>wash</i>—means ‘happiness’ or ‘good fortune’; +though I realize there is some doubt about it,—Erman translates it, +with a question-mark, as <i>Glück</i>. The <i>tema</i> you mentioned with a +double flail is unknown to me. But I of course am familiar with <i>tem</i> +spelt with a sledge ideograph. It means ‘to be ended’ or ‘finished.’ … +Do you follow me?” +</p> + +<p> +Salveter stared like a man hypnotized. +</p> + +<p> +“Good God!” he muttered. +</p> + +<p> +“And so,” Vance continued, “I concluded that you had been dealin’ in +the well-known forms of these three words, and had mentioned them +because, in their other approximate forms, their transliterative +meanings are unknown.… And the words fitted perfectly with the +situation. Indeed, Mr. Salveter, it wouldn’t take a great deal of +imagination to reconstruct your letter, being given the three verbal +salients—to wit, <i>the living one</i>, <i>happiness</i> or <i>good fortune</i>, and +<i>to be ended</i> or <i>finished</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance paused briefly, as if to arrange his words. +</p> + +<p> +“You probably composed a communication in which you said that the +‘living one’ (<i>ankh</i>) was standing in the way of your ‘happiness’ or +‘good fortune’ (<i>was</i>), and expressed a desire for the situation ‘to +be ended’ or ‘finished’ (<i>tem</i>).… I’m right, am I not?” +</p> + +<p> +Salveter continued staring at Vance in a kind of admiring +astonishment. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m going to be truthful with you,” he said at length. “That’s +exactly what I wrote. You see, Meryt-Amen, who knows the Middle +Egyptian hieroglyphic language better than I’ll ever know it, +suggested long ago that I write to her at least once a week in the +language of her ancestors, as a kind of exercise. I’ve been doing it +for years; and she always corrects me and advises me—she’s almost as +well versed as any of the scribes who decorated the ancient tombs.… +This morning, when I returned to the museum, I realized that the +Metropolitan did not open until ten o’clock, and on some sudden +impulse I sat down and began working on this letter.” +</p> + +<p> +“Most unfortunate,” Vance sighed; “for your phraseology in that letter +made it appear that you were contemplating taking drastic measures.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know it!” Salveter caught his breath. “That’s why I lied to you. +But the fact is, Mr. Vance, the letter was innocent enough.… I know it +was foolish, but I didn’t take it very seriously. Honest, sir, it was +really a lesson in Egyptian composition—not an actual communication.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance nodded non-committally. +</p> + +<p> +“And where is this letter now?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“In the drawer of the table in the museum. I hadn’t finished it when +Uncle Ben came in; and I put it away.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you had already made use of the three words, <i>ankh</i> and <i>was</i> and +<i>tem</i>?” +</p> + +<p> +Salveter braced himself and took a deep breath. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes! Those three familiar words were in it. And then, when you first +asked me about what I’d been doing in the museum I made up the tale +about the papyrus——” +</p> + +<p> +“And mentioned three words which were suggested to you by the three +words you had actually used—eh, what?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir! That’s the truth.” +</p> + +<p> +“We’re most grateful for your sudden burst of honesty.” Vance’s tone +was frigid. “Will you be so good as to bring me the uncompleted +epistle? I’d dearly love to see it; and perhaps I can decipher it.” +</p> + +<p> +Salveter leapt to his feet and fairly ran out of the room. A few +minutes later he returned, to all appearances dazed and crestfallen. +</p> + +<p> +“It isn’t there!” he announced. “It’s gone!” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, is it, now? … Most unfortunate.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance lay back pensively for several moments. Then suddenly he sprang +to his feet. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s not there! … It’s gone!” he murmured. “I don’t like this +situation, Markham—I don’t at all like it.… Why should the letter +have disappeared? Why… why?” +</p> + +<p> +He swung about to Salveter. +</p> + +<p> +“What kind of paper did you write that indiscreet letter on?” he +asked, with suppressed excitement. +</p> + +<p> +“On a yellow scratch-pad—the kind that’s generally kept on the +table.…” +</p> + +<p> +“And the ink—did you draw your characters with pen or pencil?” +</p> + +<p> +“With a pen. Green ink. It’s always in the museum.…” +</p> + +<p> +Vance raised his hand in an impatient gesture. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s enough.… Go up-stairs—go to your room… and stay there.” +</p> + +<p> +“But, Mr. Vance, I—I’m worried about that letter. Where do you think +it is?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why should I know where it is?—provided, of course, you ever wrote +it. I’m no divining-rod.” Vance was deeply troubled, though he sought +to hide the fact. “Didn’t you know better than to leave such a missive +lying loosely about?” +</p> + +<p> +“It never occurred to me——” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, didn’t it? … I wonder.” Vance looked at Salveter sharply. “This is +no time to speculate.… Please go to your room. I’ll speak to you +again.… Don’t ask any questions—do as I tell you!” +</p> + +<p> +Salveter, without a word, turned and disappeared through the door. We +could hear his heavy footsteps ascending the stairs. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch15"> +CHAPTER XV.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">VANCE MAKES A DISCOVERY</span> +</h3> + +<p class="center"> +(<i>Friday, July 13; 4.45 p.m.</i>) +</p> + +<p> +Vance stood for a long time in uneasy silence. At length he lifted his +eyes to Hennessey. +</p> + +<p> +“I wish you’d run up-stairs,” he said, “and take a post where you can +watch all the rooms. I don’t want any communication between Mrs. Bliss +and Salveter and Hani.” +</p> + +<p> +Hennessey glanced at Heath. +</p> + +<p> +“Those are orders,” the Sergeant informed him; and the detective went +out with alacrity. +</p> + +<p> +Vance turned to Markham. +</p> + +<p> +“Maybe that priceless young ass actually wrote the silly letter,” he +commented; and a worried look came over his face. “I say; let’s take a +peep in the museum.” +</p> + +<p> +“See here, Vance,”—Markham rose—“why should the possibility of +Salveter’s having written a foolish letter upset you?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know—I’m not sure.” Vance went to the door; then pivoted +suddenly. “But I’m afraid—I’m deuced afraid! Such a letter would give +the murderer a loophole—that is, if what I think is true. If the +letter <i>was</i> written, we’ve got to find it. If we don’t find it, there +are several plausible explanations for its disappearance—and one of +’em is fiendish.… But come. We’ll have to search the museum—on the +chance that it was written, as Salveter says, and left in the +table-drawer.” +</p> + +<p> +He went swiftly across the hall and threw open the great steel door. +</p> + +<p> +“If Doctor Bliss and Guilfoyle return while we’re in the museum,” he +said to Snitkin, who stood leaning against the front door, “take them +in the drawing-room and keep them there.” +</p> + +<p> +We passed down the steps into the museum, and Vance went at once to +the little desk-table beside the obelisk. He looked at the yellow pad +and tested the color of the ink. Then he pulled open the drawer and +turned out its contents. After a few minutes’ inspection of the odds +and ends, he restored the drawer to order and closed it. There was a +small mahogany waste-basket beneath the table, and Vance emptied it on +the floor. Going down on his knees he looked at each piece of crumpled +paper. At length he rose and shook his head. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t like this, Markham,” he said. “I’d feel infinitely better if +I could find that letter.” +</p> + +<p> +He strolled about the museum looking for places where a letter might +have been thrown. But when he reached the iron spiral stairs at the +rear he leaned his back against them and regarded Markham hopelessly. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m becoming more and more frightened,” he remarked in a low voice. +“If this devilish plot should work! …” He turned suddenly and ran up +the stairs, beckoning to us as he did so. “There’s a chance—just a +chance,” he called over his shoulder. “I should have thought of it +before.” +</p> + +<p> +We followed him uncomprehendingly into Doctor Bliss’s study. +</p> + +<p> +“The letter should be in the study,” he said, striving to control his +eagerness. “That would be logical… and this case is unbelievably +logical, Markham—so logical, so mathematical, that we may eventually +be able to read it aright. It’s too logical, in fact—that’s its +weakness.…” +</p> + +<p> +He was already on all fours delving into the spilled contents of +Doctor Bliss’s waste-basket. After a moment’s search he picked up two +torn pieces of yellow paper. He glanced at them carefully, and we +could see tiny markings on them in green ink. He placed them to one +side, and continued his search. After several minutes he had amassed a +small pile of yellow paper fragments. +</p> + +<p> +“I think that’s about all,” he said, rising. +</p> + +<p> +He sat down in the swivel chair and laid the torn bits of yellow paper +on the blotter. +</p> + +<p> +“This may take a little time, but since I know Egyptian hieroglyphs +fairly well I ought to accomplish the task without too much +difficulty, don’t y’ know.” +</p> + +<p> +He began arranging and fitting the scraps together, while Markham, +Heath and I stood behind him looking on with fascination. At the end +of ten minutes he had reassembled the letter. Then he took a large +sheet of white paper from one of the drawers of the desk and covered +it with mucilage. Carefully he transferred the reconstructed letter, +piece by piece, to the gummed paper. +</p> + +<p> +“There, Markham old dear,” he sighed, “is the unfinished letter which +Salveter told us he was working on this morning between nine-thirty +and ten.” +</p> + +<p> +The document was unquestionably a sheet of the yellow scratch-pad we +had seen in the museum; and on it were four lines of old Egyptian +characters painstakingly limned in green ink. +</p> + +<p> +Vance placed his finger on one of the groups of characters. +</p> + +<p> +“That,” he told us, “is the <i>ankh</i> hieroglyph.” He shifted his finger. +“And that is the <i>was</i> sign.… And here, toward the end, is the <i>tem</i> +sign.” +</p> + +<p> +“And then what?” Heath was frankly nonplussed, and his tone was far +from civil. “We can’t arrest a guy because he drew a lot of cock-eyed +pictures on a piece of yellow paper.” +</p> + +<p> +“My word, Sergeant! Must you always be thinkin’ of clappin’ persons +into oubliettes? I fear you haven’t a humane nature. Very sad.… Why +not try to cerebrate occasionally?” He looked up and I was startled by +his seriousness. “The young and impetuous Mr. Salveter confesses that +he has foolishly penned a letter to his Dulcibella in the language of +the Pharaohs. He tells us he has placed the unfinished <i>billet-doux</i> +in the drawer of a table in the museum. We discover that it is not in +the table-drawer, but has been ruthlessly dismembered and thrown into +the waste-basket in Doctor Bliss’s study.… On what possible grounds +could you regard the Paul of this epistle as a murderer?” +</p> + +<p> +“I ain’t regarding nobody as anything,” retorted Heath violently. “But +there’s too much shenanigan going on around here to suit me. I want +action.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance contemplated him gravely. +</p> + +<p> +“For once I, too, want action, Sergeant. If we don’t get some sort of +action before long, we may expect something even worse than has +already happened. But it must be intelligent action—not the action +that the murderer wants us to take. We’re caught in the meshes of a +cunningly fabricated plot; and, unless we watch our step, the culprit +will go free and we’ll still be battling with the cobwebs.” +</p> + +<p> +Heath grunted and began poring over the reconstructed letter. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s a hell of a way for a guy to write to a dame,” he commented, +with surly disdain. “Give me a nice dirty shooting by a gangster. +These flossy crimes make me sick.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham was scowling. +</p> + +<p> +“See here, Vance,” he said; “do you believe the murderer tore up that +letter and threw it in Doctor Bliss’s waste-basket?” +</p> + +<p> +“Can there be any doubt of it?” Vance asked in return. +</p> + +<p> +“But what, in Heaven’s name, could have been his object?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know—yet. That’s why I’m frightened.” Vance gazed out of the +rear window. “But the destruction of that letter is part of the plot; +and until we can get some definite and workable evidence, we’re +helpless.” +</p> + +<p> +“Still,” persisted Markham, “if the letter was incriminating, it +strikes me it would have been valuable to the murderer. Tearing it up +doesn’t help any one.” +</p> + +<p> +Heath looked first at Vance and then at Markham. +</p> + +<p> +“Maybe,” he offered, “Salveter tore it up himself.” +</p> + +<p> +“When?” Vance asked quietly. +</p> + +<p> +“How do I know?” The Sergeant was nettled. “Maybe when he croaked the +old man.” +</p> + +<p> +“If that were the case, he wouldn’t have admitted having written it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well,” Heath persevered, “maybe he tore it up when you sent him to +find it a few minutes ago.” +</p> + +<p> +“And then, after tearing it up, he came here and put it in the basket +where it might be found.… No, Sergeant. That’s not entirely +reasonable. If Salveter had been frightened and had decided to get rid +of the letter, he’d have destroyed it completely—burned it, most +likely, and left no traces of it about.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham, too, had become fascinated by the hieroglyphs Vance had +pieced together. He stood regarding the conjoined bits of paper +perplexedly. +</p> + +<p> +“You think, then, we were intended to find it?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know.” Vance’s far-away gaze did not shift. “It may be… and +yet.… No! There was only one chance in a thousand that we would come +across it. The person who put it in the waste-basket here couldn’t +have known, or even guessed, that Salveter would tell us of having +written it and left it lying about.” +</p> + +<p> +“On the other hand,”—Markham was loath to relinquish his train of +thought—“the letter might have been put here in the hope of involving +Bliss still further—that is, it might have been regarded by the +murderer as another planted clew, along with the scarab pin, the +financial report, and the footprints.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance shook his head. +</p> + +<p> +“No. That couldn’t be. Bliss, d’ ye see, couldn’t have written the +letter,—it’s too obviously a communication from Salveter to Mrs. +Bliss.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance picked up the assembled letter and studied it for a time. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s not particularly difficult to read for any one who knows +something of Egyptian. It says exactly what Salveter said it did.” He +tossed the paper back on the desk. “There’s something unspeakably +devilish behind this. And the more I think of it the more I’m +convinced we were not intended to find the letter. My feeling is, it +was carelessly thrown away by some one—<i>after it had served its +purpose</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +“But what possible purpose——?” Markham began. +</p> + +<p> +“If we knew the purpose, Markham,” said Vance with much gravity, “we +might avert another tragedy.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham compressed his lips grimly. I knew what was going through his +mind: he was thinking of Vance’s terrifying predictions in the Greene +and the Bishop cases—predictions which came true with all the horror +of final and ineluctable catastrophe. +</p> + +<p> +“You believe this affair isn’t over yet?” he asked slowly. +</p> + +<p> +“I know it isn’t over. The plan isn’t complete. We forestalled the +murderer by releasing Doctor Bliss. And now he must carry on. We’ve +seen only the dark preliminaries of his damnable scheme—and when the +plot is finally revealed, it will be monstrous.…” +</p> + +<p> +Vance went quietly to the door leading into the hall and, opening it a +few inches, looked out. +</p> + +<p> +“And, Markham,” he said, reclosing the door, “we must be +careful—that’s what I’ve been insisting on right along. We must not +fall into any of the murderer’s traps. The arrest of Doctor Bliss was +one of those traps. A single false step on our part, and the plot will +succeed.” +</p> + +<p> +He turned to Heath. +</p> + +<p> +“Sergeant, will you be so good as to bring me the yellow pad and the +pen and ink from the table in the museum? … We, too, must cover up our +tracks, for we are being stalked as closely as we are stalking the +murderer.” +</p> + +<p> +Heath, without a word, went into the museum, and a few moments later +returned with the requested articles. Vance took them and sat down at +the doctor’s desk. Then placing Salveter’s letter before him he began +copying roughly the phonograms and ideograms on a sheet of the yellow +pad. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s best, I think,” he explained as he worked, “that we hide the +fact that we’ve found the letter. The person who tore it up and threw +it in the basket may suspect that we’ve discovered it and look for the +fragments. If they’re not here, he will be on his guard. It’s merely a +remote precaution, but we can’t afford to make a slip. We’re +confronted by a mind of diabolical cleverness.…” +</p> + +<p> +When he had finished transcribing a dozen or so of the symbols, he +tore the paper into pieces of the same size as those of the original +letter, and mixed them with the contents of the waste-basket. Then he +folded up Salveter’s original letter and placed it in his pocket. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you mind, Sergeant, returning the paper and ink to the museum?” +</p> + +<p> +“You oughta been a crook, Mr. Vance,” Heath remarked good-naturedly, +picking up the pad and ink-stand and disappearing through the steel +door. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t see any light,” Markham commented gloomily. “The farther we +go, the more involved the case becomes.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance nodded sombrely. +</p> + +<p> +“There’s nothing we can do now but await developments. Thus far we’ve +checked the murderer’s king; but he still has several moves. It’s like +one of Alekhine’s chess combinations—we can’t tell just what was in +his mind when he began the assault. And he may produce a combination +that will clean the board and leave us defenseless.…” +</p> + +<p> +Heath reappeared at this moment, looking uneasy. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t like that damn room,” he grumbled. “Too many corpses. Why do +these scientific bugs have to go digging up mummies and things? It’s +what you might call morbid.” +</p> + +<p> +“A perfect criticism of Egyptologists, Sergeant,” Vance replied with a +sympathetic grin. “Egyptology isn’t an archæological science—it’s a +pathological condition, a cerebral visitation—<i>dementia scholastica</i>. +Once the <i>spirillum terrigenum</i> enters your system, you’re +lost—cursed with an incurable disease. If you dig up corpses that are +thousands of years old, you’re an Egyptologist; if you dig up recent +corpses you’re a Burke or a Hare, and the law swoops down on you. It +all comes under the head of body-snatching.…”<sup><a href="#n20b" id="n20a">[20]</a></sup> +</p> + +<p> +“Be that as it may,”—Heath was still troubled and was chewing his +cigar viciously—“I don’t like the things in that morgue. And I +specially don’t like that black coffin under the front windows. What’s +in it, Mr. Vance?” +</p> + +<p> +“The granite sarcophagus? Really, I don’t know, Sergeant. It’s empty +in all probability, unless Doctor Bliss uses it as a storage +chest—which isn’t likely, considerin’ the weight of the lid.” +</p> + +<p> +There came a knock on the hall door, and Snitkin informed us that +Guilfoyle had arrived with Doctor Bliss. +</p> + +<p> +“There are one or two questions,” Vance said, “that I want to ask him. +Then, I think, Markham, we can toddle along: I’m fainting for muffins +and marmalade.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Quit now?” demanded Heath in astonished disgust. “What’s the idea? +We’ve just begun this investigation!” +</p> + +<p> +“We’ve done more than that,” Vance told him softly. “We’ve avoided +every snare laid for us by the murderer. We’ve upset all his +calculations and forced him to reconstruct his trenches. As the case +stands now, it’s a stalemate. The board will have to be set up +again—and, fortunately for us, the murderer gets the white pieces. +It’s his first move. He simply <i>has</i> to win the game, d’ ye see. We +can afford to play for a draw.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m beginning to understand what you mean, Vance.” Markham nodded +slowly. “We’ve refused to follow his false moves, and now he must +rebait his trap.” +</p> + +<p> +“Spoken with a precision and clarity wholly unbecoming a lawyer,” +returned Vance, with a forced smile. Then he sobered again. “Yes, I +think he will rebait the trap before he takes any final steps. And I’m +hopin’ that the new bait will give us a solution to the entire plot +and permit the Sergeant to make his arrest.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, all I’ve gotta say,” Heath complained, “is that this is the +queerest case I was ever mixed up in. We go and eat muffins, and wait +for the guilty guy to spill the beans! If I was to outline that +technic to O’Brien<sup><a href="#n21b" id="n21a">[21]</a></sup> he’d call an ambulance and send me to +Bellevue.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll see that you don’t go to a psychopathic ward, Sergeant,” Markham +said irritably, walking toward the door. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch16"> +CHAPTER XVI.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">A CALL AFTER MIDNIGHT</span> +</h3> + +<p class="center"> +(<i>Friday, July 13; 5.15 p.m.</i>) +</p> + +<p> +We found Doctor Bliss in the drawing-room, slumped in a deep sprawling +chair, his tweed hat pulled down over his eyes. Beside him stood +Guilfoyle smirking triumphantly. +</p> + +<p> +Vance was annoyed, and took no pains to hide the fact. +</p> + +<p> +“Tell your efficient bloodhound to wait outside, will you, Sergeant?” +</p> + +<p> +“O.K.” Heath looked commiseratingly at Guilfoyle. “Out on the cement, +Guil,” he ordered. “And don’t ask any questions. This ain’t a murder +case—it’s a Hallowe’en party in a bug-house.” +</p> + +<p> +The detective grinned and left us. +</p> + +<p> +Bliss lifted his eyes. He was a dejected-looking figure. His face was +flushed, and apprehension and humiliation were written on his sunken +features. +</p> + +<p> +“Now, I suppose,” he said in a quavering voice, “you’ll arrest me for +this heinous murder. But—oh, my God, gentlemen!—I assure you——” +</p> + +<p> +Vance had stepped toward him. +</p> + +<p> +“Just a moment, doctor,” he broke in. “Don’t upset yourself. We’re not +going to arrest you; but we would like an explanation of your amazin’ +action. Why should you, if you are innocent, attempt to leave the +country?” +</p> + +<p> +“Why… why?” The man was nervous and excited. “I was afraid—that’s +why. Everything is against me. All the evidence points toward me.… +There’s some one here who hates me and wants me out of the way. It’s +only too obvious. The planting of my scarab pin beside poor Kyle’s +body, and that financial report found in the murdered man’s hand, and +those terrible footprints leading to my study—don’t you think I know +what it all means? It means that I must pay the price—I, <i>I</i>.” He +struck his chest weakly. “And other things will be found; the person +who killed Kyle won’t rest content until I’m behind the bars—or dead. +I know it—I know it! … That’s why I tried to get away. And now you’ve +brought me back to a living death—to a fate more awful than the one +that befell my old benefactor.…” +</p> + +<p> +His head dropped forward and a shudder ran through his body. +</p> + +<p> +“Still, it was foolish to attempt to escape, doctor,” Markham said +gently. “You might have trusted us. I assure you no injustice will be +done you. We have learned many things in the course of our +investigation; and we have reason to believe that you were drugged +with powdered opium during the period of the crime——” +</p> + +<p> +“Powdered opium!” Bliss almost leapt out of his chair. “That’s what I +tasted! There was something the matter with the coffee this +morning—it had a curious flavor. At first I thought Brush hadn’t made +it the way I’d instructed him. Then I got drowsy, and forgot all about +it.… Opium! I know the taste. I once had dysentery in Egypt, and took +opium and capsicum—my Sun Cholera Mixture<sup><a href="#n22b" id="n22a">[22]</a></sup> had run out.” His +mouth sagged open, and he gave Markham a look of terrified appeal. +“Poisoned in my own house!” Suddenly a grim vindictiveness shone in +his eyes. “You’re right, sir,” he said, with metallic hardness. “I +shouldn’t have attempted to run away. My place is here, and my duty is +to help you——” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes, doctor.” Vance was palpably bored. “Regrets are very +comfortin’, but we’re tryin’ to deal with facts. And thus far you +haven’t been very helpful.… I say, who had charge of the medical +supplies?” He put the question abruptly. +</p> + +<p> +“Why… why… let me see.…” Bliss averted his eyes and began fidgeting +with the crease in his trousers. +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll drop the matter.” Vance made a resigned gesture. “Maybe you’re +willing to tell us how well Mrs. Bliss knows Egyptian hieroglyphs.” +</p> + +<p> +Bliss looked surprised, and it took him several moments to regain his +equanimity. +</p> + +<p> +“She knows them practically as well as I do,” he answered at length. +“Her father, Abercrombie, taught her the old Egyptian language when +she was a child, and she has worked with me for years in the +deciphering of inscriptions.…” +</p> + +<p> +“And Hani?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, he has a smattering of hieroglyphic writing—nothing unusual. He +lacks the trained mind——” +</p> + +<p> +“And how well does Mr. Salveter know Egyptian?” +</p> + +<p> +“Fairly well. He’s weak on grammatical points, but his knowledge of +the signs and the vocabulary is rather extensive. He has studied Greek +and Arabic; and I believe he had a year or two of Assyrian. Coptic, +too. The usual linguistic foundation for an archæologist.—Scarlett, +on the other hand, is something of a wizard, though he’s a loyal +adherent of Budge’s system—like many amateurs.<sup><a href="#n23b" id="n23a">[23]</a></sup> And Budge, of +course, is antiquated. Don’t misunderstand me. Budge is a great +man—his contributions to Egyptology are invaluable; and his +publication of the Book of the Dead——” +</p> + +<p> +“I know.” Vance nodded with impatience. “His Index makes it possible +to find almost any passage in the Papyrus of Ani.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Just so.” Bliss had begun to reveal a curious animation: his +scientific enthusiasm was manifesting itself. “But Alan Gardiner is +the true modern scholar. His ‘Egyptian Grammar’ is a profound and +accurate work. The most important <i>opus</i> on Egyptology, however, is +the Erman-Grapow ‘Wörterbuch der aegyptischen Sprache.’ …” +</p> + +<p> +Vance had become suddenly interested. +</p> + +<p> +“Does Mr. Salveter use the Erman-Grapow ‘Wörterbuch’?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly. I insisted upon it. I ordered three sets from Leipzig—one +for myself, and one each for Salveter and Scarlett.” +</p> + +<p> +“The signs differ considerably, I believe, from the Theinhardt type +used by Budge.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes.” Bliss removed his hat and threw it on the floor. “The +consonant transliterated <i>u</i> by Budge—the quail chick—appears as <i>w</i> +in the ‘Wörterbuch’ and every other modern work. And, of course, +there’s the cursive spiral sign which is also the hieroglyphic +adaptation of the hieratic abbreviated form of the quail.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, doctor.” Vance took out his cigarette-case, saw he had +only one <i>Régie</i> left, and returned it to his pocket. “I understand +that Mr. Scarlett, before leaving the house this afternoon, went +up-stairs. I rather thought, don’t y’ know, that he dropped in to see +you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” Bliss sank back in his chair. “A very sympathetic fellow, +Scarlett.” +</p> + +<p> +“What did he say to you?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing of any importance. He wished me good luck—said he’d stand +by, in case I wanted him. That sort of thing.” +</p> + +<p> +“How long was he with you?” +</p> + +<p> +“A minute or so. He went away immediately. Said he was going home.” +</p> + +<p> +“One more question, doctor,” Vance said, after several moments’ pause. +“Who in this house would have any reason for wanting to saddle you +with the crime of killing Mr. Kyle?” +</p> + +<p> +A sudden change came over Bliss. His eyes glared straight ahead, and +the lines of his face hardened into almost terrifying contours. He +clutched the arms of his chair and drew in his feet. Both fear and +hatred possessed him; he was like a man about to leap at a mortal +enemy. Then he stood up, every muscle in his body tense. +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t answer that question; I refuse to answer it! … I don’t know—I +don’t know! But there is some one—isn’t there?” He reached out and +grasped Vance’s arm. “You should have let me escape.” A wild look came +into his eyes, and he glanced hurriedly toward the door as if he +feared some imminent danger lurking in the hall. “Have me arrested, +Mr. Vance! Do anything but ask me to stay here.…” His voice had become +pitifully appealing. +</p> + +<p> +Vance drew away from him. +</p> + +<p> +“Pull yourself together, doctor,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. +“Nothing is going to happen to you.… Go to your room and remain there +till to-morrow. We’ll take care of the criminal end of the case.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you have no idea who did this frightful thing,” Bliss protested. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, but we have, don’t y’ know.” Vance’s calm assurance seemed to +have a quieting effect on him. “It’s only necess’ry for us to wait a +bit. At present we haven’t enough evidence to make an arrest. But +since the murderer’s main object has failed, it’s almost inevitable +that he will make another move. And when he does, we may get the +necess’ry evidence against him.” +</p> + +<p> +“But suppose he takes direct action—against me?” Bliss remonstrated. +“The fact that he has failed to involve me may drive him to more +desperate measures.” +</p> + +<p> +“I hardly think so,” returned Vance. “But if anything happens, you can +reach me at this telephone number.” He wrote his private number on a +card and handed it to Bliss. +</p> + +<p> +The doctor took the card eagerly, glanced at it, and slipped it into +his pocket. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m going up-stairs now,” he said, and walked distractedly out of the +room. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you sure, Vance,” Markham asked in a troubled voice, “that we’re +not subjecting Doctor Bliss to unnecessary risk?” +</p> + +<p> +“Pretty sure.” Vance had become thoughtful. “Anyway, it’s a delicate +game, and there’s no other way to play it.” He went to the window. “I +don’t know…,” he murmured. Then after several moments: “Sergeant, I’d +like to speak to Salveter.—And there’s no need for Hennessey to +remain up-stairs. Let him go.” +</p> + +<p> +Heath, nonplussed and helpless, went into the hall and called to +Hennessey. +</p> + +<p> +When Salveter came into the drawing-room, Vance did not even glance in +his direction. +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Salveter,” he said, looking out at the dusty trees in Gramercy +Park, “if I were you I’d lock my door to-night.… And don’t write any +more letters,” he added. “Also, keep out of the museum.” +</p> + +<p> +Salveter appeared frightened by these admonitions. He studied Vance’s +back for some time, and then set his jaw. +</p> + +<p> +“If any one starts anything round here——” he began with an almost +ferocious aggressiveness. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, quite.” Vance sighed. “But don’t project your personality so +intensively. I’m fatigued.” +</p> + +<p> +Salveter, after a moment’s hesitation, swung about and strode from the +room. +</p> + +<p> +Vance came to the centre-table and rested heavily against it. +</p> + +<p> +“And now, a word with Hani, and we can depart.” +</p> + +<p> +Heath shrugged his shoulders resignedly, and went to the door. +</p> + +<p> +“Hey, Snitkin, round up that Ali Baba in the kimono.” +</p> + +<p> +Snitkin leapt to the staircase, and a few minutes later the Egyptian +stood before us, serene and detached. +</p> + +<p> +“Hani,” said Vance, with an impressiveness wholly uncharacteristic, +“you will do well to watch over this household to-night.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, <i>effendi</i>. I comprehend perfectly. The spirit of Sakhmet may +return and complete the task she has begun——” +</p> + +<p> +“Exactly.” Vance gave a tired smile. “Your feline lady foozled things +this morning, and she’ll probably be back to tie up a few loose ends.… +Watch for her—do you understand?” +</p> + +<p> +Hani inclined his head. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, <i>effendi</i>. We understand each other.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s positively rippin’. And incidentally, Hani, what is the number +of Mr. Scarlett’s domicile in Irving Place?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ninety-six.” The Egyptian revealed considerable interest in Vance’s +question. +</p> + +<p> +“That will be all.… And give my regards to your lion-headed goddess.” +</p> + +<p> +“It may be Anûbis who will return, <i>effendi</i>,” said Hani +sepulchrally, as he left us. +</p> + +<p> +Vance looked whimsically at Markham. +</p> + +<p> +“The stage is set, and the curtain will go up anon.… Let’s move on. +There’s nothing more we can do here. And I’m totterin’ with hunger.” +</p> + +<p> +As we passed out into Twentieth Street Vance led the way toward Irving +Place. +</p> + +<p> +“I rather think we owe it to Scarlett to let him know how things +stand,” he explained negligently. “He brought us the sad tidings and +is probably all agog and aflutter. He lives just round the corner.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham glanced at Vance inquisitively, but made no comment. Heath, +however, grunted impatiently. +</p> + +<p> +“It looks to me like we’re doing ’most everything but clean up this +homicide,” he groused. +</p> + +<p> +“Scarlett’s a shrewd lad; he may have conjured up an idea or two,” +Vance returned. +</p> + +<p> +“I got ideas, too,” the Sergeant declared maliciously. “But what good +are they? If <i>I</i> was handling this case, I’d arrest the whole outfit, +put ’em in separate cells, and let ’em sweat. By the time they got +<i>habeas-corpus</i> proceedings started I’d know a damn sight more than I +do now.” +</p> + +<p> +“I doubt it, Sergeant.” Vance spoke mildly. “I think you’d know even +less.… Ah, here’s number ninety-six.” +</p> + +<p> +He turned into the Colonial entrance of an old brick house a few doors +from Twentieth Street, and rang the bell. +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett’s quarters—two small rooms with a wide, arched doorway +between—were on the second floor at the front. They were furnished +severely but comfortably in Jacobean style, and typified the +serious-minded bachelor. Scarlett had opened the door at our knock and +invited us in with the stiff cordiality of the English host. He seemed +relieved to see us. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve been in a frightful stew for hours,” he said. “Been trying to +analyze this affair. I was on the point of running round to the museum +and finding out what progress you gentlemen had made.” +</p> + +<p> +“We’ve made a bit of progress,” Vance told him; “but it’s not of a +tangible nature. We’ve decided to let matters float for a while in the +anticipation that the guilty person will proceed with his plot and +thus supply us with definite evidence.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” Scarlett took his pipe slowly from his mouth and looked sharply +at Vance. “That remark makes me think that maybe you and I have +reached the same conclusion. There was no earthly reason for Kyle’s +having been killed unless his demise was to lead to something +else——” +</p> + +<p> +“To what, for example?” +</p> + +<p> +“By Jove, I wish I knew!” Scarlett packed his pipe with his finger and +held a match to it. “There are several possible explanations.” +</p> + +<p> +“My word! Are there? … Several? Well, well! Could you bear to outline +one of them? We’re dashed interested, don’t y’ know.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I say, Vance! Really, now, I’d hate like the Old Harry to wrong +any one,” Scarlett spluttered. “Hani, however, didn’t care a great +deal for Doctor Bliss——” +</p> + +<p> +“Thanks awfully. Astonishin’ as it may seem, I noted that fact myself +this morning. Have you any other little beam of sunshine you’d care to +launch in our direction?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think Salveter is hopelessly smitten with Meryt-Amen.” +</p> + +<p> +“Fancy that!” +</p> + +<p> +Vance took out his cigarette-case and tapped his one remaining +<i>Régie</i> on the lid. Deliberately he lighted it and, after a deep +inhalation, looked up seriously. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Scarlett,” he drawled, “it’s quite possible that you and I have +arrived at the same conclusion. But naturally we can’t make a move +until we have something definite with which to back up our +hypotheses.… By the by, Doctor Bliss attempted to leave the country +this afternoon. If it hadn’t been for one of Sergeant Heath’s minions +he presumably would be on his way to Montreal at this moment.” +</p> + +<p> +I expected to see Scarlett express astonishment at this news, but +instead he merely nodded his head. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not surprised. He’s certainly in a funk. Can’t say that I blame +him. Things appear rather black for him.” Scarlett puffed on his pipe, +and shot a surreptitious look at Vance. “The more I think about this +affair, the more I’m impressed with the possibility that, after +all——” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, quite.” Vance cut him short. “But we’re not pantin’ for +possibilities. What we crave is specific data.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s going to be difficult, I’m afraid.” Scarlett grew thoughtful. +“There’s been too much cleverness——” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! That’s the point—<i>too much cleverness</i>. Exactly! Therein lies +the weakness of the crime. And I’m hopefully countin’ on that +<i>abundantia cautelæ</i>.” Vance smiled. “Really, y’ know, Scarlett, I’m +not as dense as I’ve appeared thus far. My object in stultifyin’ my +perceptions has been to wangle the murderer into new efforts. Sooner +or later he’ll overplay his hand.” +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett did not answer for some time. Finally he spoke. +</p> + +<p> +“I appreciate your confidence, Vance. You’re very sporting. But my +opinion is, you’ll never be able to convict the murderer.” +</p> + +<p> +“You may be right,” Vance admitted. “Nevertheless, I’m appealing to +you to keep an eye on the situation.… But I warn you to be careful. +The murderer of Kyle is a ruthless johnnie.” +</p> + +<p> +“You don’t have to tell me that.” Scarlett got up and, walking to the +fireplace, leaned against the marble mantel. “I could tell you volumes +about him.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sure you could.” To my astonishment Vance accepted the other’s +startling statement without the slightest manifestation of surprise. +“But there’s no need to go into that now.” He, too, rose, and going to +the door gave a casual wave of farewell to Scarlett. “We’re toddlin’ +along. Just thought we’d let you know how things stood and admonish +you to be careful.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very kind of you, Vance. Fact is, I’m frightfully upset—nervous as a +Persian kitten.… Wish I could work; but all my materials are at the +museum. I know I sha’n’t sleep a wink to-night.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, cheerio!” Vance turned the door-knob. +</p> + +<p> +“I say, Vance!” Scarlett stepped forward urgently. “Are you, by any +chance, going back to the Bliss house to-day?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. We’re through there for the time being.” Vance’s voice was quiet +and droning, as with ennui. “Why do you ask?” +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett fiddled at his pipe with a sort of sudden agitation. +</p> + +<p> +“No reason.” He looked at Vance with a constricted brow. “No reason at +all. I’m anxious about the situation. There’s no telling what may +happen.” +</p> + +<p> +“Whatever happens, Scarlett,” Vance said, with a certain abruptness, +“Mrs. Bliss will be perfectly safe. I think we can trust Hani to see +to that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—of course,” the man murmured. “Faithful dog, Hani.… And who’d +want to harm Meryt?” +</p> + +<p> +“Who, indeed?” Vance was now standing in the hallway, holding the door +open for Markham and Heath and me to pass through. +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett, animated by some instinct of hospitality, came forward. +</p> + +<p> +“Sorry you’re going,” he said perfunctorily. “If I can be of any +help.… So you’ve ended your investigation at the house?” +</p> + +<p> +“For the moment, at least.” Vance paused. The rest of us had passed +him and were waiting at the head of the stairs. “We’re not +contemplatin’ returning to the Bliss establishment until something new +comes to light.” +</p> + +<p> +“Right-o.” Scarlett nodded with a curious significance. “If I learn +anything I’ll telephone to you.” +</p> + +<p> +We went out into Irving Place, and Vance hailed a taxicab. +</p> + +<p> +“Food—sustenance,” he moaned. “Let us see.… The Brevoort isn’t far +away.…” +</p> + +<p> +We had an elaborate tea at the old Brevoort on lower Fifth Avenue, and +shortly afterward Heath departed for the Homicide Bureau to make out +his report and to pacify the newspaper reporters who would be swarming +in on him the moment the case went on record. +</p> + +<p> +“You had better stand by,” Vance suggested to the Sergeant, as he left +us; “for I’m full of anticipations, and we couldn’t push forward +without you.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll be at the office till ten to-night,” Heath told him sulkily. +“And after that Mr. Markham knows where to reach me at home. But, I’m +here to tell you, I’m disgusted.” +</p> + +<p> +“So are we all,” said Vance cheerfully. +</p> + +<p> +Markham telephoned to Swacker<sup><a href="#n24b" id="n24a">[24]</a></sup> to close the office and go home. +Then the three of us drove to Longue Vue for dinner. Vance refused to +discuss the case and insisted upon talking about Arturo Toscanini, the +new conductor of the Philharmonic-Symphony Orchestra. +</p> + +<p> +“A vastly overrated <i>Kapellmeister</i>,” he complained, as he tasted his +<i>canard Molière</i>. “It strikes me he is temperamentally incapable of +sensing the classic ideals in the great symphonic works of Brahms and +Beethoven.… I say, the tomato purée in this sauce is excellent, but +the Madeira wine is too vineg’ry. Prohibition, Markham, worked +devastatin’ havoc on the food of this country: it practically +eliminated gastronomic æsthetics.… But to return to Toscanini. I’m +positively amazed at the panegyrics with which the critics have +showered him. His secret ideals, I’m inclined to think, are Puccini +and Giordano and Respighi. And no man with such ideals should attempt +to interpret the classics. I’ve heard him do Brahms and Beethoven and +Mozart, and they all exuded a strong Italian aroma under his baton. +But the Americans worship him. They have no sense of pure intellectual +beauty, of sweeping classic lines and magistral form. They crave +strongly contrasted <i>pianissimos</i> and <i>fortissimos</i>, sudden changes in +tempi, leaping <i>accelerandos</i> and crawling <i>ritardandos</i>. And +Toscanini gives it all to ’em.… Furtwängler, Walter, Klemperer, +Mengelberg, Van Hoogstraaten—any one of these conductors is, in my +opinion, superior to Toscanini when it comes to the great German +classics.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Would you mind, Vance,” Markham asked irritably, “dropping these +irrelevancies and outlining to me your theory of the Kyle case?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’d mind terribly,” was Vance’s amiable reply. “After the +<i>Bar-le-duc</i> and <i>Gervaise</i>, however.…” +</p> + +<p> +As a matter of fact it was nearly midnight before the subject of the +tragedy was again broached. We had returned to Vance’s apartment after +a long drive through Van Cortlandt Park; and Markham and he and I had +gone up to the little roof garden to seek whatever air was stirring +along East Thirty-eighth Street. Currie had made a delicious champagne +cup—what the Viennese call a <i>Bowle</i>—with fresh fruit in it; and we +sat under the summer stars smoking and waiting. I say, “waiting,” for +there is no doubt that each of us expected something untoward to +happen. +</p> + +<p> +Vance, for all his detachment, was inwardly tense—I could tell this +by his slow, restrained movements. And Markham was loath to go home: +he was far from satisfied with the way the investigation had +progressed, and was hoping—as a result of Vance’s +prognostication—that something would develop to take the case out of +the hazy realm of conjecture and place it upon a sound basis where +definite action could be taken. +</p> + +<p> +Shortly before twelve o’clock Markham held a long conversation with +Heath on the telephone. When he hung up the receiver he heaved a +hopeless sigh. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t like to think of what the opposition papers are going to say +to-morrow,” he remarked gloomily, as he cut the tip off of a fresh +cigar. “We’ve got absolutely nowhere in this investigation.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes, we have.” Vance was staring up into the sultry night. “We’ve +made amazin’ progress. The case, d’ ye see, is closed as far as the +solution is concerned. We’re merely waitin’ for the murderer to get +panic-stricken. The moment he does, we’ll be able to take action.” +</p> + +<p> +“Why must you be so confounded mysterious?” Markham was in a vile +humor. “You’re always indulging in cabalistic rituals. The Delphic +Pythia herself was no vaguer or more obscure than you. If you think +you know who killed Kyle, why not come out with it?” +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t do it.” Vance, too, was distressed. “Really, y’ know, +Markham, I’m not trying to be illusory. I’m strivin’ to find some +tangible evidence to corroborate my theory. And if we bide our time +we’ll secure that evidence.” He looked at Markham seriously. “There’s +danger, of course. Something unforeseen may happen. But there’s no +human way to stop it. Whatever step we might take now would lead to +tragedy. We have given the murderer an abundance of rope; let us hope +he will hang himself.…” +</p> + +<p> +It was exactly twenty minutes past twelve that night when the thing +that Vance had been waiting for happened. We had been sitting in +silence for perhaps ten minutes when Currie stepped out into the +garden carrying a portable telephone. +</p> + +<p> +“I beg your pardon, sir——” he began; but before he could continue +Vance had risen and walked toward him. +</p> + +<p> +“Plug it in, Currie,” he ordered. “I’ll answer the call.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance took the instrument and leaned against the French door. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes… yes. What has happened?” His voice was low and resonant. He +listened for perhaps thirty seconds, his eyes half closed. Then he +said merely: “We’ll be there at once,” and handed the telephone to +Currie. +</p> + +<p> +He was unquestionably puzzled, and stood for several moments, his head +down, deep in thought. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s not what I expected,” he said, as if to himself. “It doesn’t +fit.” +</p> + +<p> +Presently he lifted his head, like one struck sharply. +</p> + +<p> +“But it <i>does</i> fit! Of course it fits! It’s what I should have +expected.” Despite the careless pose of his body his eyes were +animated. “Logic! How damnably logical! … Come, Markham. Phone +Heath—have him meet us at the museum as soon as he can get there.…” +</p> + +<p> +Markham had risen and was glaring at Vance in ferocious alarm. +</p> + +<p> +“Who was on the phone?” he demanded. “And what has happened?” +</p> + +<p> +“Please be tranquil, Markham.” Vance spoke quietly. “It was Doctor +Bliss who spoke to me. And, accordin’ to his hysterical tale, there +has been an attempted murder in his house. I promised him we’d look +in.…” +</p> + +<p> +Markham had already snatched the telephone from Currie’s hands and was +frantically asking for Heath’s number. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch17"> +CHAPTER XVII.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">THE GOLDEN DAGGER</span> +</h3> + +<p class="center"> +(<i>Saturday, July 14; 12.45 a.m.</i>) +</p> + +<p> +We had to walk to Fifth Avenue to find a taxicab at that hour, and +even then there was five minutes’ wait until an unoccupied one came +by. The result was that it was fully twenty minutes before we turned +into Gramercy Park and drew up in front of the Bliss residence. +</p> + +<p> +As we alighted another taxicab swung round the corner of Irving Place +and nearly skidded into us as its brakes were suddenly thrown on. The +door was flung open before the cab had come to a stand-still, and the +bulky figure of Sergeant Heath projected itself to the sidewalk. Heath +lived in East Eleventh Street and had managed to dress and reach the +museum almost simultaneously with our arrival. +</p> + +<p> +“My word, Sergeant!” Vance hailed him. “We synchronize, don’t y’ know. +We arrive at the same destination at the same time, but from opposite +directions. Jolly idea.” +</p> + +<p> +Heath acknowledged the somewhat enigmatical pleasantry with a grunt. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s all the excitement anyway?” he asked Markham. “You didn’t give +me much of an earful over the phone.” +</p> + +<p> +“An attempt has been made on Doctor Bliss’s life,” Markham told him. +</p> + +<p> +Heath whistled softly. +</p> + +<p> +“I certainly didn’t expect that, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“Neither did Mr. Vance.” The rejoinder was intended as a taunt. +</p> + +<p> +We went up the stone steps to the vestibule, but before we could ring +the bell Brush opened the door. He placed his forefinger to his lips +and, leaning forward mysteriously, said in a stage whisper: +</p> + +<p> +“Doctor Bliss requests that you gentlemen be very quiet so as not to +disturb the other members of the household.… He’s in his bedchamber +waiting for you.” +</p> + +<p> +Brush was clad in a flannel robe and carpet slippers, but despite the +hot sultriness of the night he was visibly shivering. His face, always +pale, now appeared positively ghastly in the dim light. +</p> + +<p> +We stepped into the hall, and Brush closed the door cautiously with +trembling hands. Suddenly Vance wheeled about and caught him by the +arm, spinning him round. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you know about the occurrence here to-night?” he demanded in +a low tone. +</p> + +<p> +The butler’s eyes bulged and his jaw sagged. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing—nothing,” he managed to stammer. +</p> + +<p> +“Really, now! Then why are you so frightened?” Vance did not relax his +hold. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m afraid of this place,” came the plaintive answer. “I want to +leave here. Strange things are going on——” +</p> + +<p> +“So they are. But don’t fret; you’ll be able to look for another berth +before long.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m glad of that, sir.” The man seemed greatly relieved. “But what +<i>has</i> happened to-night, sir?” +</p> + +<p> +“If you’re ignorant of what has taken place,” returned Vance, “how do +you happen to be here at this hour awaiting our arrival and acting +like a villain in a melodrama?” +</p> + +<p> +“I was told to wait for you, sir. Doctor Bliss came down-stairs to my +room——” +</p> + +<p> +“Where is your room, Brush?” +</p> + +<p> +“In the basement, at the rear, just off the kitchen.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very good. Go on.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, sir, Doctor Bliss came to my room about half an hour ago. He +seemed very much upset, and frightened—if you know what I mean. He +told me to wait at the front door for you gentlemen—that you’d arrive +any minute. And he instructed me to make no noise and also to warn +you——” +</p> + +<p> +“Then he went up-stairs?” +</p> + +<p> +“At once, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where is Doctor Bliss’s room?” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s the rear door on the second floor, just at the head of the +stairs. The forward door is the mistress’s bedchamber.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance released the man’s arm. +</p> + +<p> +“Did you hear any disturbance to-night?” +</p> + +<p> +“None, sir. Everything has been quiet. Every one retired early, and I +myself went to bed before eleven.” +</p> + +<p> +“You may go back to bed now,” Vance told him. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir.” And Brush went quickly away and disappeared through the +door at the rear of the hall. +</p> + +<p> +Vance made a gesture for us to follow him and led the way up-stairs. A +small electric bulb was burning in the upper hall, but we did not need +it to find Doctor Bliss’s room, for his door was a few inches ajar and +a shaft of light fell diagonally across the floor outside. +</p> + +<p> +Vance, without knocking, pushed the door inward and stepped into the +room. Bliss was sitting rigidly in a straight chair in the far corner, +leaning slightly forward, his eyes riveted on the door. In his hand +was a brutal-looking army revolver. At our entrance he leapt to his +feet, and brought the gun up simultaneously. +</p> + +<p> +“Tut, tut, doctor!” Vance smiled whimsically. “Put the firearms away +and chant us the distressin’ rune.” +</p> + +<p> +Bliss drew an audible sigh of relief, and placed the weapon on a small +table at his side. +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you for coming, Mr. Vance,” he said in a strained tone. “And +you, Mr. Markham.” He acknowledged Heath’s and my presence with a +slight, jerky bow. “The thing you predicted has happened.… There’s a +murderer in this house!” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, well! That would hardly come under the head of news.” (I could +not understand Vance’s attitude.) “We’ve known that fact since eleven +this morning.” +</p> + +<p> +Bliss, too, was perplexed and, I imagine, somewhat piqued by Vance’s +negligent manner, for he stepped stiffly to the bed and, pointing at +the headboard, remarked irritably: +</p> + +<p> +“And there’s the proof!” +</p> + +<p> +The bed was an old Colonial piece, of polished mahogany, with a great +curving headboard rising at least four feet above the mattress. It +stood against the left-hand wall at a right angle to the door. +</p> + +<p> +The object at which Bliss pointed with a quivering finger was an +antique Egyptian dagger, about eleven inches long, whose blade was +driven into the headboard just above the pillow. The direction of +penetration was on a line with the door. +</p> + +<p> +We all moved forward and stood for several seconds staring at the +sinister sight. The dagger had undoubtedly been thrown with great +force to have entered the hard mahogany wood so firmly; and it was +obvious that if any one had been lying on the pillow at the time it +was hurled, he would have received the full brunt of it somewhere in +the throat. +</p> + +<p> +Vance studied the position of the dagger, gauging its alignment and +angulation with the door, and then he reached out his hand to grasp +it. But Heath intercepted the movement. +</p> + +<p> +“Use your handkerchief, Mr. Vance,” he admonished. “There’ll be +finger-prints——” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no, there won’t, Sergeant.” Vance spoke with an impressive air of +knowledge. “Whoever threw that dagger was careful to avoid any such +incriminatin’ tokens.…” Whereupon he drew the blade, with considerable +difficulty, from the headboard, and took it to the table-lamp. +</p> + +<p> +It was a beautiful and interesting piece of workmanship. Its handle +was ornamented with decorations of granulated gold and with strips of +cloisonné and semi-precious stones—amethysts, turquoises, garnets, +carnelians, and tiny cuttings of obsidian, chalcedony and felspar. The +haft was surmounted with a lotiform knob of rock crystal, and at the +hilt was a chain-scroll design in gold wire. The blade was of hardened +gold adorned with shallow central +</p> + +<figure> +<a href="images/img_231.jpg"><img alt="img_231.jpg" src="images/img_231_th.jpg"></a> +<figcaption> +DOCTOR BLISS’S BEDROOM +</figcaption> +</figure> + +<p class="noindent"> +grooves ending in an engraved palmette decoration.<sup><a href="#n25b" id="n25a">[25]</a></sup> +</p> + +<p> +“Late Eighteenth Dynasty,” murmured Vance, fingering the dagger and +studying its designs. “Pretty, but decadent. The rugged simplicity of +early Egyptian art went frightfully to pot during the opulent +renaissance following the Hyksos invasion.… I say, Doctor Bliss; how +did you come by this flamboyant gewgaw?” +</p> + +<p> +Bliss was ill at ease, and when he answered his tone was apologetic +and embarrassed. +</p> + +<p> +“The fact is, Mr. Vance, I smuggled that dagger out of Egypt. It was +an unusual and unexpected find, and purely accidental. It’s a most +valuable relic, and I was afraid the Egyptian Government would claim +it.” +</p> + +<p> +“I can well imagine they’d want to keep it in their own country.” +Vance tossed the dagger to the table. “And where did you ordinarily +keep it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Under some papers in one of my desk drawers in the study,” he replied +presently. “It was a rather personal item, and I thought it best not +to list it in the museum.” +</p> + +<p> +“Most discreet.… Who besides yourself knew of its existence?” +</p> + +<p> +“My wife, of course, and——” He broke off suddenly, and a peculiar +light came in his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“Come, come, doctor.” Vance spoke with annoyance. “This won’t do. +Finish your sentence.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is finished. My wife was the only person I confided in.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance accepted the statement without further argument. +</p> + +<p> +“Still,” he said, “any one might have discovered it, what?” +</p> + +<p> +Bliss nodded slowly. +</p> + +<p> +“Provided he had been snooping through my desk.” +</p> + +<p> +“Exactly. When did you last see the dagger in your desk drawer?” +</p> + +<p> +“This morning. I was searching for some foolscap paper on which to +check my report for poor Kyle.…” +</p> + +<p> +“And who, to your knowledge, has been in your study since we left the +house this afternoon?” +</p> + +<p> +Bliss pondered, and shortly a startled expression came over his face. +</p> + +<p> +“I’d rather not say.” +</p> + +<p> +“We can’t do anything to help you, doctor, if you take that attitude,” +Vance said severely. “Was it Mr. Salveter who was in the study?” +</p> + +<p> +Bliss paused for several seconds. Then he set his jaw. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes!” The word fairly burst from his lips. “I sent him to the study +after dinner to-night to get me a memorandum book.…” +</p> + +<p> +“And where did you keep the book?” +</p> + +<p> +“In the desk.” This information was given reluctantly. “But any +attempt to connect Salveter——” +</p> + +<p> +“We’re not attemptin’ just now to connect any one with this episode,” +Vance interrupted. “We’re merely tryin’ to accumulate all the +information possible.… However, you must admit, doctor,” Vance added, +“that young Mr. Salveter is—how shall I put it?—rather interested in +Mrs. Bliss——” +</p> + +<p> +“What’s that?” Bliss stiffened and glared at Vance ferociously. “How +dare you intimate such a thing? My wife, sir——” +</p> + +<p> +“No one has criticised Mrs. Bliss,” Vance said mildly. “And one A.M. +is hardly the time for indignant pyrotechnics.” +</p> + +<p> +Bliss sank into his chair and covered his face with his hands. +</p> + +<p> +“It may be true,” he conceded in a despairing voice. “I’m too old for +her—too much absorbed in my work.… But that doesn’t mean that the boy +would attempt to kill me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps not.” Vance spoke indifferently. “But who, then, do you +suspect of endeavorin’ to sever your carotid?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know—I don’t know.” The man’s voice rose pitifully. +</p> + +<p> +At this moment the door leading into the front apartment opened, and +Mrs. Bliss stood on the threshold, a long flowing robe of oriental +pattern draped about her. She was perfectly calm, and her eyes were +steady, if a bit brilliant, as they took in the scene before her. +</p> + +<p> +“Why have you gentlemen returned at this hour?” she inquired +imperiously. +</p> + +<p> +“An attempt has been made on your husband’s life, madam,” Markham +answered sombrely; “and he telephoned to us——” +</p> + +<p> +“An attempt on his life? Impossible!” She spoke with over-emphasis, +and her face turned perceptibly pale. Then she went to Bliss and put +her arms about him in an attitude of affectionate protection. Her eyes +were blazing as she lifted them to Vance. “What absurdity is this? Who +would want to take my husband’s life?” +</p> + +<p> +“Who, indeed?” Vance met her gaze calmly. “If we knew, we could at +least arrest the person for assault with a deadly weapon—I believe +that’s the phrase.” +</p> + +<p> +“A deadly weapon?” She frowned with obvious distress. “Oh, tell me +what happened!” +</p> + +<p> +Vance indicated the dagger on the table. +</p> + +<p> +“All we know thus far is that yon golden dagger was projectin’ from +the head of the bed when we arrived. We were on the point of asking +your husband for a full account of the affair when you appeared—a +charming Nefret-îti—at the door.… Perhaps,” he went on, turning to +Bliss, “the doctor will recount the entire episode for us now.” +</p> + +<p> +“There’s really little to tell.” Bliss sat up and began nervously to +make creases in the folds of his dressing-gown. “I came here to my +room shortly after dinner, and went to bed. But I couldn’t sleep, and +got up. Just then Salveter passed my door on his way up-stairs and I +asked him to fetch the memorandum book from the study,—I thought I +might take my mind off the dreadful events of the day——” +</p> + +<p> +“One moment, doctor,” Vance interposed. “Was your door open?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. I had opened it when I arose, in order to get a little more air +in the room,—the atmosphere was stifling.… Then I went over a few old +notes and entries relating to last winter’s excavations. But I +couldn’t keep my mind on them, and finally I closed the door, switched +off the lights, and lay down again on the bed.” +</p> + +<p> +“That would have been about what time?” +</p> + +<p> +“Between half past ten and eleven, I should say.… I dozed +intermittently till midnight—I could see the time by that clock with +the luminous dial—and then became unaccountably restless. I got to +thinking about poor Kyle, and all inclination to sleep left me. +However, I was dog-tired physically, and lay quite still.… About a +quarter past twelve—the house was very quiet, you understand—I +thought I could hear footsteps on the stairs——” +</p> + +<p> +“Which stairs, doctor?” +</p> + +<p> +“I couldn’t determine. The footsteps might have been coming down from +the third floor, or they might have been ascending from the first +floor. They were very quiet, and if I had not been wide awake and +keyed up I wouldn’t have noticed them. As it was, I couldn’t be sure, +though at one time I imagined I heard a slight creak as if a board +were a little loose under the carpet.” +</p> + +<p> +“And then?” +</p> + +<p> +“I lay speculating on who it might be, for I knew the other members of +the house had retired early. I did not exactly worry about the sounds +until I heard them approach my own door and suddenly halt. Then your +warning, Mr. Vance, swept over me with full force, and I felt that +some terrible unknown danger was lurking on the threshold. I was, I +admit, temporarily paralyzed with fright: I could feel the roots of my +hair tingle, and my body broke out in cold perspiration.” +</p> + +<p> +He took a deep breath, as if to rid himself of a haunting memory. +</p> + +<p> +“Just then the door began to open slowly and softly. The light in the +hall had been turned out and the room here was in almost pitch +darkness, so I was unable to see anything. But I could hear the gentle +swish of the door as it swung open, and I could feel the mild current +of air that came in from the hall.…” +</p> + +<p> +A tremor ran over his body, and his eyes glowed unnaturally. +</p> + +<p> +“I would have called out, but my throat seemed constricted, and I did +not want to imperil Mrs. Bliss, who might have answered my call and +run unwittingly into something dangerous and deadly.… And then the +blinding ray of a flash-light was thrown directly into my eyes, and I +instinctively lurched to the far side of the bed. At that moment I +heard a swift, brushing sound followed by a dull wooden detonation +near my head. And immediately I became conscious of footsteps +retreating——” +</p> + +<p> +“In which direction?” Vance again interrupted. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not sure—they were very faint. I was aware only of their +stealthy retreat.…” +</p> + +<p> +“What did you do after that, doctor?” +</p> + +<p> +“I waited several minutes. Then I cautiously closed the door and +switched on the lights. It was at that moment I realized what had made +the noise at the head of the bed, for the first thing I saw was the +dagger. And I knew that I had been the object of a murderous attack.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance nodded and, picking up the dagger, weighed it on the palm of his +hand. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he mused; “it’s blade-heavy and could easily have been thrown +accurately even by an amateur.… A peculiar form of assassination, +though,” he went on, almost to himself. “Much simpler and surer for +the wielder to have sneaked to the bed and thrust it into his intended +victim’s ribs.… Most peculiar! Unless, of course——” He stopped and +glanced thoughtfully at the bed. Presently he shrugged his shoulders, +and looked at Bliss. “After discovering the dagger, I opine, you +telephoned to me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Within five minutes. I listened at the door a while and then went +down to the study and called your number. After that I roused Brush +and told him to watch for you at the front door. I came back +up-stairs,—I’d armed myself with my revolver while in the study,—and +awaited your arrival.” +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Bliss had been watching her husband with a look of deep anxiety +during his recital. +</p> + +<p> +“I heard the sound of the dagger striking the headboard,” she said in +a low, fearful voice. “My bed is against the other side of the wall. +It startled me and woke me up, but I didn’t give it a second thought, +and went to sleep again.” She threw her head back and glared at Vance. +“This is shameful and outrageous! You insist upon my husband staying +in this house that harbors a murderer—a murderer who is plotting +against him—and you do nothing to protect him.” +</p> + +<p> +“But nothing has happened to him, Mrs. Bliss,” Vance replied with +gentle sternness. “He has lost an hour’s sleep, but really, y’ know, +that’s not a serious catastrophe. And I can assure you that no further +danger will beset him.” He looked straight into the woman’s eyes, and +I was conscious that some understanding passed between them in that +moment of mutual scrutiny. +</p> + +<p> +“I do hope you find the guilty person,” she said with slow, tragic +emphasis. “I can bear the truth—now.” +</p> + +<p> +“You are very courageous, madam,” Vance murmured. “And in the meantime +you can best help us by retiring to your room and waiting there until +you hear from us. You can trust me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I know I can!” There was a catch in her voice. Then she bent +impulsively, touched her lips to Bliss’s forehead, and returned to her +room. +</p> + +<p> +Vance’s eyes followed her with a curious expression: I could not +determine if it was one of regret or sorrow or admiration. When the +door had closed after her he strolled to the table and replaced the +dagger on it. +</p> + +<p> +“I was just wonderin’, doctor,” he said. “Don’t you lock or bolt your +door at night?” +</p> + +<p> +“Always,” was the immediate reply. “It makes me nervous to sleep with +an unlocked door.” +</p> + +<p> +“But what about to-night?” +</p> + +<p> +“That is what puzzles me.” Bliss’s forehead was knit in perplexity. +“I’m sure I locked it when I first came to my room. But, as I told +you, I got up later and opened the door to get some air. The only +explanation I can think of is that when I went back to bed I forgot to +relock the door. It’s possible of course, for I was very much upset.…” +</p> + +<p> +“It couldn’t have been unlocked from the outside?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I’m sure it couldn’t. The key was in the lock, just as you see it +now.” +</p> + +<p> +“What about finger-prints on the outside knob?” Heath queried. “That +cut glass would take ’em easy.” +</p> + +<p> +“My word, Sergeant!” Vance shook his head despairingly. “The concocter +of this plot knows better than to leave his visitin’ card wherever he +goes.…” +</p> + +<p> +Bliss sprang to his feet. +</p> + +<p> +“An idea has just struck me,” he exclaimed. “There was a +gold-and-cloisonné sheath to that dagger; and if the sheath should +not be in my desk drawer now, perhaps—perhaps——” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes. Quite.” Vance nodded. “I see your point. The sheath might +still be in the frustrated assassin’s possession. An excellent clew.… +Sergeant, would you mind going with Doctor Bliss to the study to +ascertain if the sheath was taken with the dagger? No use worryin’ +ourselves about it if it’s still in the drawer.” +</p> + +<p> +Heath went promptly to the hall, followed by Bliss. We could hear them +descending to the first floor. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you make of this, Vance?” Markham asked, when we were alone. +“It looks pretty serious to me.” +</p> + +<p> +“I make a great deal of it,” Vance returned sombrely. “And it <i>is</i> +pretty serious. But, thank Heaven, the <i>coup</i> was not very brilliant. +The whole thing was frightfully botched.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I can see that,” Markham agreed. “Imagine any one hurling a +knife six feet or more when he could have dealt a single thrust in a +vital spot.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, that?” Vance lifted his eyebrows. “I wasn’t thinking of the +technic of the knife-thrower. There were other points about the affair +still less intelligent. I can’t understand it altogether. Perhaps too +much panic. Anyway we may get a definite key to the plot through the +doctor’s suggestion about the sheath.” +</p> + +<p> +Bliss and Heath were heard returning up the stairs. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it’s gone,” the Sergeant informed us, as the two stepped into +the room. +</p> + +<p> +“No doubt taken with the dagger,” Bliss supplemented. +</p> + +<p> +“Suppose I send for a couple of the boys and give the house the +once-over,” Heath suggested. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s not necess’ry, Sergeant,” Vance told him. “I’ve a feelin’ it +won’t be hard to find.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham was becoming annoyed at Vance’s vagueness. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose,” he said, with a tinge of sarcasm, “you can tell us +exactly where we can find the sheath.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I rather think so.” Vance spoke with thoughtful seriousness. +“However, I’ll verify my theory later.… In the meantime”—he addressed +himself to Bliss—“I’d be greatly obliged if you’d remain in your room +until we finish our investigation.” +</p> + +<p> +Bliss bowed in acquiescence. +</p> + +<p> +“We’re going to the drawing-room for a while,” Vance continued. +“There’s a little work to be done there.” +</p> + +<p> +He moved toward the hall, then stopped as if on sudden impulse and, +going to the table, slipped the dagger into his pocket. Bliss closed +the door after us, and we could hear the key turn in the lock. Markham +and Heath and I started down the stairs, Vance bringing up the rear. +</p> + +<p> +We had descended but a few steps when a calm, flat voice from the +upper hall arrested us. +</p> + +<p> +“Can I be of any assistance, <i>effendi</i>?” +</p> + +<p> +The unexpected sound in that dim quiet house startled us, and we +instinctively turned. At the head of the stairs leading to the third +floor stood the shadowy figure of Hani, his flowing kaftan a dark mass +against the palely lighted wall beyond. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, rather!” Vance answered cheerfully. “We were just repairin’ to +the drawing-room to hold a little conversational <i>séance</i>. Do join +us, Hani.” +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch18"> +CHAPTER XVIII.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">A LIGHT IN THE MUSEUM</span> +</h3> + +<p class="center"> +(<i>Saturday, July 14; 1.15 a.m.</i>) +</p> + +<p> +Hani joined us in the drawing-room. He was very calm and dignified, +and his inscrutable eyes rested impassively on Vance like those of an +ancient Egyptian priest meditating before the shrine of Osiris. +</p> + +<p> +“How do you happen to be up and about at this hour?” Vance asked +casually. “Another attack of gastritis?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, <i>effendi</i>.” Hani spoke in slow, measured tones. “I rose when I +heard you talking to Brush. I sleep with my door open always.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps, then, you heard Sakhmet when she returned to the house +to-night.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did Sakhmet return?” The Egyptian lifted his head slightly in mild +interest. +</p> + +<p> +“In a manner of speaking.… But she’s a most inefficient deity. She +bungled everything again.” +</p> + +<p> +“Are you sure she did not intentionally bungle things?” Despite the +droning quality of Hani’s voice, there was a significant note in it. +</p> + +<p> +Vance regarded him for a moment. Then: +</p> + +<p> +“Did you hear footsteps on the stairs or along the second-floor +corridor shortly after midnight?” +</p> + +<p> +The man shook his head slowly. +</p> + +<p> +“I heard nothing. But I was asleep for at least an hour before you +arrived; and the soft tread of footsteps on the deep carpet would +scarcely have been sufficient to rouse me.” +</p> + +<p> +“Doctor Bliss himself,” Vance explained, “came down-stairs and +telephoned to me. You did not hear him either?” +</p> + +<p> +“The first sound I perceived was when you gentlemen came into the +front hall and talked to Brush. Your voices, or perhaps the door +opening, awakened me. Later I could hear your muffled tones in Doctor +Bliss’s bedroom, which is just below mine; but I could not distinguish +anything that was said.” +</p> + +<p> +“And of course you were not aware that any one turned off the light in +the second-story hall round midnight.” +</p> + +<p> +“Had I not been asleep I would certainly have noticed it, as the light +shines dimly up the stairs into my room. But when I awoke the light +was on as usual.” Hani frowned slightly. “Who would have turned the +hall light off at that hour?” +</p> + +<p> +“I wonder.…” Vance did not take his eyes from the Egyptian. “Doctor +Bliss has just told us that it was some one who had designs on his +life.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah!” The exclamation was like a sigh of relief. “But the attempt, I +gather, was not successful.” +</p> + +<p> +“No. It was quite a fiasco. The technic, I might say, was both stupid +and hazardous.” +</p> + +<p> +“It was not Sakhmet.” Hani’s pronouncement was almost sepulchral. +</p> + +<p> +“Really, now!” Vance smiled slightly. “She is still reclinin’, then, +by the side of the great west wind of heaven.<sup><a href="#n26b" id="n26a">[26]</a></sup>… I’m jolly glad to +be able to rule her out. And since no occult force was at work, +perhaps you can suggest who would have had a motive to cut the +doctor’s throat.” +</p> + +<p> +“There are many who would not weep if he were to quit this life; but I +know of none who would take it upon himself to precipitate that +departure.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance lighted a <i>Régie</i> and sat down. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, Hani, did you imagine you might be of service to us?” +</p> + +<p> +“Like you, <i>effendi</i>,” came the soft reply, “I expected that something +distressing, and perhaps violent, would happen in this house to-night. +And when I heard you enter and go to Doctor Bliss’s room, it occurred +to me that the looked-for event had come to pass. So I waited on the +upper landing until you came out.” +</p> + +<p> +“Most considerate and thoughtful of you,” Vance murmured, and took +several puffs on his cigarette. After a moment he asked: “If Mr. +Salveter had emerged from his room to-night after you had gone to bed, +would you have known of the fact?” +</p> + +<p> +The Egyptian hesitated, and his eyes contracted. +</p> + +<p> +“I think I would. His room is directly opposite mine——” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m familiar with the arrangement.” +</p> + +<p> +“It does not seem probable that Mr. Salveter could have unlocked his +door and come out without my being cognizant of it.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s possible though, is it not?” Vance was insistent. “If you were +asleep, and Mr. Salveter had good reason for not disturbing you, he +might have emerged so cautiously that you would have slept on in +complete ignorance of his act.” +</p> + +<p> +“It is barely possible,” Hani admitted unwillingly. “But I am quite +sure that he did not leave his room after retiring.” +</p> + +<p> +“Your wish, I fear, is father to your assurance,” Vance sighed. +“However, we sha’n’t belabor the point.” +</p> + +<p> +Hani was watching Vance with lowering concern. +</p> + +<p> +“Did Doctor Bliss suggest that Mr. Salveter left his room to-night?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, to the contr’ry,” Vance assured him. “The doctor said quite +emphatically that any attempt to connect Mr. Salveter with the +stealthy steps outside of his door at midnight, would be a grave +error.” +</p> + +<p> +“Doctor Bliss is wholly correct,” the Egyptian declared. +</p> + +<p> +“And yet, Hani, the doctor insisted that a would-be assassin was +prowlin’ about the house. Who else could it have been?” +</p> + +<p> +“I cannot imagine.” Hani appeared almost indifferent. +</p> + +<p> +“You do not think that it could have been Mrs. Bliss?” +</p> + +<p> +“Never!” The man’s tone had become quickly animated. “Meryt-Amen would +have had no reason to go into the hall. She has access to her +husband’s room through a communicating door——” +</p> + +<p> +“So I observed a while ago,—she joined our <i>pourparler</i> in the +doctor’s room. And I must say, Hani, that she was most anxious for us +to find the person who had made the attempt on her husband’s life.” +</p> + +<p> +“Anxious—and sad, <i>effendi</i>.” A new note crept into Hani’s voice. +“She does not yet understand the things that have happened to-day. But +when she does——” +</p> + +<p> +“We won’t speculate along those lines now,” Vance cut in brusquely. He +reached in his pocket and drew out the golden dagger. “Did you ever +see that?” he asked, holding the weapon toward the Egyptian. +</p> + +<p> +The man’s eyes opened wide as he stared at the glittering, jewelled +object. At first he appeared fascinated, but the next moment his face +clouded, and the muscles of his jowls worked spasmodically. A +smouldering anger had invaded him. +</p> + +<p> +“Where did that Pharaonic dagger come from?” he asked, striving to +control his emotion. +</p> + +<p> +“It was brought from Egypt by Doctor Bliss,” Vance told him. +</p> + +<p> +Hani took the dagger and held it reverently under the table-lamp. +</p> + +<p> +“It could only have come from the tomb of Ai. Here on the crystal knob +is faintly engraved the king’s cartouche. Behold: Kheper-kheperu-Rê +Iry-Maët——” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes. The last Pharaoh of the Eighteenth Dynasty. The doctor +found the dagger during his excavations in the Valley of the Tombs of +the Kings.” Vance was watching the other intently. “You are quite +positive you have never seen it before?” +</p> + +<p> +Hani drew himself up proudly. +</p> + +<p> +“Had I seen it, I would have reported it to my Government. It would no +longer be in the possession of an alien desecrator, but in the country +where it belongs, cared for by loving hands at Cairo.… Doctor Bliss +did well to keep it hidden.” +</p> + +<p> +There was a bitter hatred in his words, but suddenly his manner +changed. +</p> + +<p> +“May I be permitted to ask when you first saw this royal dagger?” +</p> + +<p> +“A few minutes ago,” Vance answered. “It was projectin’ from the +headboard of the doctor’s bed—just behind the place where his head +had lain a second earlier.” +</p> + +<p> +Hani’s gaze travelled past Vance to some distant point, and his eyes +became shrewdly thoughtful. +</p> + +<p> +“Was there no sheath to this dagger?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes.” There was a flicker in the corners of Vance’s eyes. “Gold +and cloisonné—though I haven’t seen it. The fact is, Hani, we’re +deuced interested in the sheath. It’s disappeared—lying <i>perdu</i> +somewhere hereabouts. We’re going to make a bit of a search for it ere +long.” +</p> + +<p> +Hani nodded his head understandingly. +</p> + +<p> +“And if you find it, are you sure you’ll know more than you do now?” +</p> + +<p> +“It may at least verify my suspicions.” +</p> + +<p> +“The sheath would be an easy object to hide securely,” Hani reminded +him. +</p> + +<p> +“I really don’t anticipate any difficulty in putting my hands on it.” +Vance rose and confronted the man. “Could you perhaps suggest where we +might best start our search?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, <i>effendi</i>,” Hani returned, after a perceptible hesitation. “Not +at this moment. I would need time to think about it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very well. Suppose you go to your room and indulge in some lamaic +concentration. You’re anything but helpful.” +</p> + +<p> +Hani handed the dagger back, and turned toward the hall. +</p> + +<p> +“And be so good,” Vance requested, “as to knock on Mr. Salveter’s door +and tell him we would like to see him here at once.” +</p> + +<p> +Hani bowed, and disappeared. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t like that bird,” Heath grumbled, when the Egyptian was out of +hearing. “He’s too slippery. And he knows something he’s not telling. +I’d like to turn my boys loose on him with a piece of rubber +hose—they’d make him come across.… I wouldn’t be surprised, Mr. +Vance, if he threw the dagger himself. Did you notice the way he held +it, laying out flat in the palm of his hand with the point toward the +fingers?—just like those knife-throwers in vaudeville.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, he might have been thinkin’ caressingly of Doctor Bliss’s +trachea,” Vance conceded. “However, the dagger episode doesn’t worry +me half as much as something that <i>didn’t</i> happen to-night.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it looks to me like plenty happened,” retorted Heath. +</p> + +<p> +Markham regarded Vance inquisitively. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s in your mind?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“The picture presented to us to-night, d’ ye see, wasn’t finished. I +could still detect some of the under-painting. And there was no +<i>vernissage</i>. The canvas needed another form—the generating line +wasn’t complete.…” +</p> + +<p> +Just then we could hear footsteps on the stairs. Salveter, with a +wrinkled Shantung dressing-gown wrapped about his pyjamas, blinked as +he faced the lights in the drawing-room. He appeared only half awake, +but when his pupils had become adjusted to the glare, he ran his eyes +sharply over the four of us and then shot a glance at the bronze clock +on the mantel. +</p> + +<p> +“What now?” he asked. “What has happened?” He seemed both bewildered +and anxious. +</p> + +<p> +“Doctor Bliss phoned me that some one had tried to kill him,” Vance +explained. “So we hobbled over.… Know anything about it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Good God, no!” Salveter sat down heavily in a chair by the door. +“Some one tried to kill the doctor? When? … How?” He fumbled in his +dressing-gown pockets, and Vance, reading his movements correctly, +held out his cigarette-case. Salveter lighted a <i>Régie</i> nervously, +and drew several deep inhalations on it. +</p> + +<p> +“Shortly after midnight,” Vance answered. “But the attempt failed +dismally.” He tossed the dagger in Salveter’s lap. “Familiar with that +knick-knack?” +</p> + +<p> +The other studied the weapon a few seconds without touching it. A +growing astonishment crept into his expression, and he carefully +picked up the dagger and inspected it. +</p> + +<p> +“I never saw it in my life,” he said in an awed tone. “It’s a very +valuable archæological specimen—a rare museum piece. Where, in +Heaven’s name, did you unearth it? It certainly doesn’t belong to the +Bliss collection.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, but it does,” Vance assured him. “A private item, so to speak. +Always kept secluded from pryin’ vulgar eyes.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m amazed. I’ll bet the Egyptian Government doesn’t know about it.” +Salveter looked up abruptly. “Has this dagger anything to do with the +attempt on the doctor’s life?” +</p> + +<p> +“Everything apparently,” Vance replied negligently. “We found it +lodged in the headboard of the doctor’s bed, evidently thrown with +great force at the spot where his throat should have been.” +</p> + +<p> +Salveter contracted his brow and set his lips. +</p> + +<p> +“See here, Mr. Vance,” he declared at length; “we haven’t any Malayan +jugglers in this house.… Unless,” he added, as a startled +afterthought, “Hani knows the art. Those orientals are full of +unexpected lore and practices.” +</p> + +<p> +“The performance to-night was not, according to all accounts, what one +would unqualifiedly call artistic. It was, in fact, somewhat +amateurish. I’m sure a Malay could have done much better with his +kris. In the first place, the intruder’s footsteps and the opening of +the door were plainly heard by Doctor Bliss; and, in the second place, +there was sufficient delay between the projection of the flash-light +and the actual hurling of the dagger to give the doctor time to remove +his head from the line of propulsion.…” +</p> + +<p> +At this moment Hani appeared at the door holding a small object in his +hand. Walking forward he laid it on the centre-table. +</p> + +<p> +“Here, <i>effendi</i>,” he said in a low voice, “is the sheath of the royal +dagger. I found it lying against the baseboard of the second-story +hall, near the head of the stairs.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance scarcely glanced at it. +</p> + +<p> +“Thanks awfully,” he drawled. “I rather thought you’d find it. But of +course it wasn’t in the hall.” +</p> + +<p> +“I assure you——” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, quite.” Vance looked straight into Hani’s eyes, and presently a +faint, gentle smile crept into his gaze. “Isn’t it true, Hani,” he +asked pointedly, “that you found the sheath exactly where you and I +believed it to be hidden?” +</p> + +<p> +The Egyptian did not answer at once. Presently he said: +</p> + +<p> +“I have told my story, <i>effendi</i>. You may draw your own conclusion.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance appeared satisfied and waved his hand toward the door. +</p> + +<p> +“And now, Hani, go to bed. We sha’n’t need you any more to-night. +<i>Leiltak sa’îda.</i>” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Leiltak sa’îda wemubâraka.</i>” The man bowed and departed. +</p> + +<p> +Vance picked up the sheath and, taking the dagger from Salveter, +fitted the blade into its holder, looking at the gold embossing +critically. +</p> + +<p> +“Ægean influence,” he murmured. “Pretty, but too fussy. These ornate +floral devices of the Eighteenth Dynasty bear the same relation to +early Egyptian art that the Byzantine ginger-bread does to the simple +Greek orders.” He held the sheath closer to his monocle. “And, by the +by, here’s a decoration that may interest you, Mr. Salveter. The +formal scrolls terminate in a jackal’s head.” +</p> + +<p> +“Anûpu, eh? Hani’s given name. That’s curious.” Salveter rose and +looked at the design. “And another point might be considered, Mr. +Vance,” he went on, after a pause. “These lower-class Copts are, for +all their superficial Christian veneer, highly superstitious. Their +minds run along one traditional groove: they like to fit everything to +a preconceived symbolism. There have been nine more or less +coincidental deaths of late among those connected with the excavations +in Egypt,<sup><a href="#n27b" id="n27a">[27]</a></sup> and the natives ridiculously imagine that the afrîts +of their ancestors lay in ambush in the various tombs to mow down the +western intruders, as a kind of punitive measure. They actually +believe in such malefic forces.… And here is Hani, at bottom a +superstitious Egyptian, who resents the work of Doctor Bliss:—is it +not possible he might consider the death of the doctor by a dagger +once worn by a Pharaoh as a sort of mystical retribution in line with +all these other irrational ghost stories? And Hani might even regard +the jackal’s head on that sheath as a sign that he—named after the +jackal-headed god, Anûbis—had been divinely appointed the agent in +this act of vengeance.” +</p> + +<p> +“A charmin’ theory,” was Vance’s somewhat uninterested comment. “But a +bit too specious, I fear. I’m comin’ to the opinion that Hani is not +nearly so stupid and superstitious as he would have us think. He’s a +kind of modern Theogonius, who has found it the part of wisdom to +simulate mental inferiority.”<sup><a href="#n28b" id="n28a">[28]</a></sup> +</p> + +<p> +Salveter slowly nodded agreement. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ve felt that same quality in him at times.… But who else——?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! Who else?” Vance sighed. “I say, Mr. Salveter; what time did you +go to bed to-night?” +</p> + +<p> +“At ten-thirty,” the man returned aggressively. “And I didn’t wake up +until Hani called me just now.” +</p> + +<p> +“You retired, then, immediately after you had fetched the +memorandum-book from the study for Doctor Bliss.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, he told you about that, did he? … Yes, I handed him the book and +went on up to my room.” +</p> + +<p> +“The book, I understand, was in his desk.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s right.—But why this cross-examination about a +memorandum-book?” +</p> + +<p> +“That dagger,” Vance explained, “was also kept in one of the drawers +of the doctor’s desk.” +</p> + +<p> +Salveter leapt to his feet. +</p> + +<p> +“I see!” His face was livid. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, but you don’t,” Vance mildly assured him. “And I’d appreciate it +immensely if you’d try to be calm. Your vitality positively exhausts +me.—Tell me, did you lock your bedroom door to-night?” +</p> + +<p> +“I always lock it at night.” +</p> + +<p> +“And during the day?” +</p> + +<p> +“I leave it open—to air the room.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you heard nothing to-night after retiring?” +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing at all. I went to sleep quickly—the reaction, I suppose.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance rose. +</p> + +<p> +“One other thing: where did the family have dinner to-night?” +</p> + +<p> +“In the breakfast-room. It could hardly be called dinner, though. No +one was hungry. It was more like a light supper. So we ate +down-stairs. Less bother.” +</p> + +<p> +“And what did the various members of the household do after dinner?” +</p> + +<p> +“Hani went up-stairs at once, I believe. The doctor and Mrs. Bliss and +I sat here in the drawing-room for an hour or so, when the doctor +excused himself and went to his room. A little later Meryt-Amen went +up-stairs, and I sat here until about half past ten trying to read.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, Mr. Salveter. That will be all.” Vance moved toward the +hall. “Only, I wish you’d tell Mrs. Bliss and the doctor that we +sha’n’t disturb them any more to-night. We’ll probably communicate +with them to-morrow.… Let’s go, Markham. There’s really nothing more +we can do here.” +</p> + +<p> +“I could do a whole lot more,” Heath objected with surly antagonism. +“But this case is being handled like a pink tea. Somebody in this +house threw that dagger, and if I had my way I’d steam the truth out +of him.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham endeavored diplomatically to soothe the Sergeant’s ruffled +feelings, but without any marked success. +</p> + +<p> +We were now standing just inside of the front door preparatory to +departing, and Vance paused to light a cigarette. He was facing the +great steel door leading into the museum, and I saw his frame suddenly +go taut. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, just a moment, Mr. Salveter,” he called; and the man, who was now +nearly at the head of the first flight of stairs, turned and retraced +his steps. “What are the lights doing on in the museum?” +</p> + +<p> +I glanced toward the bottom of the steel door where Vance’s gaze was +resting, and for the first time saw a tiny illuminated line. Salveter, +too, glanced at the floor, and frowned. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sure I don’t know,” he said in a puzzled voice. “The last person +in the museum is supposed to turn off the switch. But no one to my +knowledge has been in there to-night.… I’ll see.” He stepped toward +the door, but Vance moved in front of him. +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t trouble yourself,” he said peremptorily. “I’ll attend to it.… +Good-night.” +</p> + +<p> +Salveter took the dismissal uneasily, but without another word he went +up-stairs. +</p> + +<p> +When he had disappeared round the banisters on the second floor, Vance +gently turned the knob, and pushed the museum door open. Below us, on +the opposite side of the room, seated at the desk-table near the +obelisk, and surrounded by filing-boxes, photographs, and cardboard +folders, was Scarlett. His coat and waistcoat were hanging over the +back of his chair; a green celluloid shade covered his eyes; and a pen +was in his hand, poised above a large note-book. +</p> + +<p> +He looked up as the door opened. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, hallo!” he called cheerily. “Thought you were through with the +Bliss ménage for to-day.” +</p> + +<p> +“It’s to-morrow now,” returned Vance, going down the stairs and +crossing the museum. +</p> + +<p> +“What!” Scarlett reached behind him and took out his watch. “Great +Scott! So it is. Had no idea of the hour. Been working here since +eight o’clock——” +</p> + +<p> +“Amazin’.” Vance glanced over a few of the upturned photographs. “Very +interestin’.… Who let you in, by the by?” +</p> + +<p> +“Brush, of course.” Scarlett seemed rather astonished at the question. +“Said the family were having dinner in the breakfast-room. I told him +not to disturb ’em—that I had a bit of work to finish.…” +</p> + +<p> +“He didn’t mention your arrival to us.” Vance was apparently engrossed +in a photograph of four amuletic bracelets. +</p> + +<p> +“But why should he, Vance?” Scarlett had risen and was getting into +his coat. “It’s a commonplace thing for me to come here and work in +the evenings. I’m drifting in and out of the house constantly. When I +work at night I always shut off the light on going and see that the +front door is fastened. Nothing unusual about my coming here after +dinner.” +</p> + +<p> +“That probably accounts for Brush’s not telling us, don’t y’ know.” +Vance tossed the photographs back on the table. “But something out of +the ordin’ry did happen here to-night.” He laid the sheathed dagger +before Scarlett. “What do you know about that bizarre parazonium?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, much.” The other grinned, and shot Vance an interrogatory look. +“How did you happen on it? It’s one of the doctor’s dark secrets.” +</p> + +<p> +“Really?” Vance lifted his eyebrows in simulated surprise. “Then +you’re familiar with it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Rather. I saw the old scalawag slip it into his khaki shirt when he +found it. I kept mum—none of my business. Later, when we were here in +New York, he told me he’d smuggled it out of Egypt, and confided to me +that he was keeping it sequestered in his study. He was in constant +fear that Hani would unearth it, and swore me to secrecy. I agreed. +What’s one dagger, more or less? The Cairo Museum has the cream of all +the excavated items anyway.” +</p> + +<p> +“He kept it ensconced under some papers in one of his desk drawers.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I know. Safe hiding-place. Hani rarely goes in the study.… But +I’m curious——” +</p> + +<p> +“We’re all curious. Distressin’ state, what?” Vance gave him no time +to speculate. “Who else knew of the dagger’s existence?” +</p> + +<p> +“No one, as far as I know. The doctor certainly didn’t disclose the +fact to Hani; and I doubt seriously if he informed Mrs. Bliss. She has +peculiar loyalties in regard to her native country, and the doctor +respects them. No telling how she’d react to the theft of such a +valuable treasure.” +</p> + +<p> +“What about Salveter?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’d say no.” Scarlett made an unpleasant grimace. “He’d be sure to +confide in Meryt-Amen. Impulsive young cub.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, some one knew of its whereabouts,” Vance remarked. “Doctor +Bliss phoned me shortly after midnight that he had escaped +assassination by the proverbial hair’s-breadth; so we sped hither and +found the point of that poniard infixed in the head of his bed.” +</p> + +<p> +“By Jove! You don’t say!” Scarlett seemed shocked and perplexed. “Some +one must have discovered the dagger… and yet——” He stopped suddenly +and shot Vance a quick look. “How do you account for it?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m not accountin’ for it. Most mysterious.… Hani, by the by, found +the sheath in the hall near the doctor’s door.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s odd.…” Scarlett paused as if considering. Then he began +arranging his papers and photographs in neat piles and stacking his +filing-boxes under the table. “Couldn’t you get any suggestions out of +the rest of the household?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Any number of suggestions. All of ’em conflictin’, and most of ’em +silly. So we’re toddlin’ along home. Happened to see the light under +the door and was overcome with curiosity.… Quitting now?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” Scarlett took up his hat. “I’d have knocked off long ago but +didn’t realize how late it was.” +</p> + +<p> +We all left the house together. A heavy silence had fallen over us, +and it was not until Scarlett paused in front of his quarters that any +one of us spoke. Then Vance said: +</p> + +<p> +“Good-night. Don’t let the dagger disturb your slumbers.” +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett waved an abstracted adieu. +</p> + +<p> +“Thanks, old man,” he rejoined. “I’ll try to follow your advice.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance had taken several steps when he turned suddenly. +</p> + +<p> +“And I say, Scarlett; if I were you I’d keep away from the Bliss house +for the time being.” +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch19"> +CHAPTER XIX.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">A BROKEN APPOINTMENT</span> +</h3> + +<p class="center"> +(<i>Saturday, July 14; 2 a.m.-10 p.m.</i>) +</p> + +<p> +Heath left us at Nineteenth Street and Fourth Avenue; and Vance, +Markham and I took a taxicab back to Vance’s apartment. It was nearly +two o’clock, but Markham showed no indication of going home. He +followed Vance up-stairs to the library, and throwing open the French +windows gazed out into the heavy, mist-laden night. The events of the +day had not gone to his liking; and yet I realized that his quandary +was so deep that he felt disinclined to make any decisive move until +the conflicting factors of the situation became more clarified. +</p> + +<p> +The case at the outset had appeared simple, and the number of possible +suspects was certainly limited. But, despite these two facts, there +was a subtle and mysterious intangibility about the affair that +rendered a drastic step impossible. The elements were too fluid, the +cross-currents of motives too contradictory. Vance had been the first +to sense the elusory complications, the first to indicate the +invisible paradoxes; and so surely had he put his finger upon the +vital points of the plot—so accurately had he foretold certain phases +of the plot’s development—that Markham had, both figuratively and +literally, stepped into the background and permitted him to deal with +the case in his own way. +</p> + +<p> +Withal, Markham was dissatisfied and impatient. Nothing definitely +leading to the actual culprit had, so far as could be seen, been +brought to light by Vance’s unprofessional and almost casual process +of investigation. +</p> + +<p> +“We’re not making headway, Vance,” Markham complained with gloomy +concern, turning from the window. “I’ve stood aside all day and +permitted you to deal with these people as you saw fit, because I felt +your knowledge of them and your familiarity with things Egyptological +gave you an advantage over impersonal official cross-questioning. And +I also felt that you had a plausible theory about the whole matter, +which you were striving to verify. But Kyle’s murder is as far from a +solution as it was when we first entered the museum.” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re an incorrigible pessimist, Markham,” Vance returned, getting +into a printed foulard dressing-gown. “It has been just fifteen hours +since we found Sakhmet athwart Kyle’s skull; and you must admit, +painful as it may be to a District Attorney, that the average murder +investigation has scarcely begun in so brief a time.…” +</p> + +<p> +“In the average murder case, however,” Markham retorted acidly, “we’d +at least have found a lead or two and outlined a workable routine. If +Heath had been handling the matter he’d have made an arrest by +now—the field of possibilities is not an extensive one.” +</p> + +<p> +“I dare say he would. He’d no doubt have had every one in jail, +including Brush and Dingle and the Curators of the Metropolitan +Museum. Typical tactics: butcher innocent persons to make a +journalistic holiday. I’m not entranced with that technic, though. I’m +far too humane—I’ve retained too many of my early illusions. +Sentimentality, alas! will probably be my downfall.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham snorted, and seated himself at the end of the table. For +several moments he beat the devil’s tattoo on a large, vellum-bound +copy of “Malleus Maleficarum.” +</p> + +<p> +“You told me quite emphatically,” he said, “that when this second +episode happened—the attempt on Bliss’s life—you’d understand all +the phases of the plot and perhaps be able to adduce some tangible +evidence against Kyle’s murderer. It appears to me, however, that +to-night’s affair has simply plunged us more deeply into uncertainty.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance shook his head seriously in disagreement. +</p> + +<p> +“The throwing of that dagger and the hiding and finding of the sheath +have illuminated the one moot point in the plot.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham looked up sharply. +</p> + +<p> +“You think you know now what the plot is?” +</p> + +<p> +Vance carefully fitted a <i>Régie</i> into a long jet holder and gazed at +a small Picasso still-life beside the mantel. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Markham,” he returned slowly; “I think I know what the plot is. +And if the thing that I expect to happen to-night occurs, I can, I +believe, convince you that I am right in my diagnosis. Unfortunately +the throwing of the dagger was only part of the pre-arranged episode. +As I said to you a while ago, the tableau was not completed. Something +intervened. And the final touch—the rounding-out of the episode—is +yet to come.” +</p> + +<p> +He spoke with impressive solemnity, and Markham, I could see, was +strongly influenced by his manner. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you any definite notion,” he inquired, “what that final touch +will prove to be?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, quite. But just what shape it will take I can’t say. The plotter +himself probably doesn’t know, for he must wait for a propitious +opportunity. But it will centre about one specific object, or, rather, +clew—a planted clew, Markham. That clew has been carefully prepared, +and the placing of it is the only indefinite factor left.… Yes, I am +waiting for a specific item to appear; and when it does, I can +convince you of the whole devilish truth.” +</p> + +<p> +“When do you figure this final clew will turn up?” Markham asked +uneasily. +</p> + +<p> +“At almost any moment.” Vance spoke in low, level and quiet tones. +“Something prevented its taking shape to-night, for it is an intimate +corollary of the dagger-throwing. And by refusing to take that episode +too seriously, and by letting Hani find the sheath, I made the +immediate planting of the final clew necess’ry. Once again we refused +to fall into the murderer’s trap—though, as I say, the trap was not +fully baited.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m glad to have some kind of explanation for your casual attitude +to-night.” Despite the note of sarcasm in Markham’s voice, it was +obvious that at bottom he was not indulging in strictures upon Vance’s +conduct. He was at sea and inclined, therefore, to be irritable. “You +apparently had no interest in determining who hurled the dagger at +Bliss’s pillow.” +</p> + +<p> +“But, Markham old dear, I knew who hurled the bejewelled bodkin.” +Vance made a slight gesture of impatience. “My only concern was with +what the reporters call the events leading up to the crime.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham realized it was of no use to ask, at this time, who had thrown +the dagger; so he pursued his comments on Vance’s recent activities at +the Bliss house. +</p> + +<p> +“You might have got some helpful suggestions from Scarlett—he +evidently was in the museum during the entire time.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Even so, Markham,” Vance countered, “don’t forget there is a thick +double wall between the museum and the Bliss domicile, and that those +steel doors are practically sound-proof. Bombs might have been +exploded in the doctor’s room without any one in the museum hearing +them.” +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps you’re right.” Markham rose and stood contemplating Vance +appraisingly. “I’m putting a lot of trust in you—you confounded +æsthete. And I’m going against all my principles and stultifying the +whole official procedure of my office because I believe in you. But +God help you if you fail me.… What’s the programme for to-morrow?” +</p> + +<p> +Vance shot him a grateful, affectionate look. Then, at once, a cynical +smile overspread his face. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m the unofficial straw, so to speak, at which the drowning District +Attorney clutches—eh, what? Not an overwhelmin’ compliment.” +</p> + +<p> +It was always the case with these two old friends that when one +uttered a generous remark the other immediately scotched it, lest +there be some outward show of sentiment. +</p> + +<p> +“The programme for to-morrow?” Vance took up Markham’s question. +“Really, y’ know, I hadn’t given it any Cartesian consideration.… +There’s an exhibition of Gauguins at Wildenstein’s. I might stagger in +and bask in the color harmonics of the great Pont-Avenois. Then +there’s a performance of the Beethoven <i>Septet</i> at Carnegie Hall; and +a preview of Egyptian wall paintings from the tombs of Nakhte and +Menena and Rekh-mi-Rê——” +</p> + +<p> +“And there’s an orchid show at the Grand Central Palace,” Markham +suggested with vicious irony. “But see here, Vance: if we let this +thing run on another day without taking some kind of action, there may +be danger ahead for some one else, just as there was danger for Bliss +to-night. If the murderer of Kyle is as ruthless as you say and his +job hasn’t been completed——” +</p> + +<p> +“No, I don’t think so.” Vance’s face clouded again. “The plot doesn’t +include another act of violence. I believe it has now entered upon a +quiescent and subtle—and more deadly—stage.” He smoked a moment +speculatively. “And yet… there may be a remote chance. Things haven’t +gone according to the murderer’s calculations. We’ve blocked his two +most ambitious moves. But he has one more combination left, and I’m +countin’ on his trying it.…” +</p> + +<p> +His voice faltered, and rising he walked slowly to the French window +and back. +</p> + +<p> +“Anyway, I’ll take care of the situation in the morning,” he said. +“I’ll guard against any dangerous possibility. And at the same time +I’ll hasten the planting of that last clew.” +</p> + +<p> +“How long is this rigmarole going to take?” Markham was troubled and +nervous. “I can’t go on indefinitely waiting for apocalyptic events to +happen.” +</p> + +<p> +“Give me twenty-four hours. Then, if we haven’t received further +guidance from the gentleman who is pullin’ the strings, you may turn +Heath loose on the family.” +</p> + +<p> +It was less than twenty-four hours when the culminating event +occurred. The fourteenth of July will always remain in my memory as +one of the most terrible and exciting days of my life; and as I set +down this record of the case, years later, I can hardly refrain from a +shudder. I do not dare think of what might have happened—of what +soul-stirring injustice might have been perpetrated in good faith—had +not Vance seen the inner machinations of the diabolical plot +underlying Kyle’s murder, and persisted in his refusal to permit +Markham and Heath taking the obvious course of arresting Bliss. +</p> + +<p> +Vance told me months later that never in his career had he been +confronted by so delicate a task as that of placating Markham and +convincing him that an impassive delay was the only possible means of +reaching the truth. Almost from the moment Vance entered the museum in +answer to Scarlett’s summons, he realized the tremendous difficulties +ahead; for everything had been planned in order to force Markham and +the police into making the very move against which he had so +consistently fought. +</p> + +<p> +Though Markham did not take his departure from Vance’s apartment on +the night of the dagger episode until half past two, Vance rose the +next morning before eight o’clock. Another sweltering day was +promised, and he had his coffee in the roof-garden. He sent Currie to +fetch all the morning newspapers, and spent a half hour or so reading +the accounts of Kyle’s murder. +</p> + +<p> +Heath had been highly discreet about giving out the facts, and only +the barest skeleton of the story was available to the press. But the +prominence of Kyle and the distinguished reputation of Doctor Bliss +resulted in the murder creating a tremendous furore. It was emblazoned +across the front page of every metropolitan journal, and there were +long reviews of Bliss’s Egyptological work and the financial interest +taken in it by the dead philanthropist. The general theory seemed to +be—and I recognized the Sergeant’s shrewd hand in it—that some one +from the street had entered the museum, and, as an act of vengeance or +enmity, had killed Kyle with the first available weapon. +</p> + +<p> +Heath had told the reporters of the finding of the scarab beside the +body, but had given no further information about it. Because of this +small object, which was the one evidential detail that had been +vouchsafed, the papers, always on the lookout for identifying titles, +named the tragedy the Scarab murder case; and that appellation has +clung to it to the present day. Even those persons who have forgotten +the name of Benjamin H. Kyle still remember the sensation caused by +his murder, as a result of that ancient piece of lapis-lazuli carved +with the name of an Egyptian Pharaoh of the year 1650 B.C. +</p> + +<p> +Vance read the accounts with a cynical smile. +</p> + +<p> +“Poor Markham!” he murmured. “Unless something definite happens very +soon, the anti-administration critics will descend on him like a host +of trolls. I see that Heath has announced to the world that the +District Attorney’s office has taken full charge of the case.…” +</p> + +<p> +He smoked meditatively for a time. Then he telephoned to Salveter and +asked him to come at once to his apartment. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m hopin’ to remove every possibility of disaster,” he explained to +me as he hung up the receiver; “though I’m quite certain another +attempt to hoodwink us will be made before any desperate measures are +taken.” +</p> + +<p> +For the next fifteen minutes he stretched out lazily and closed his +eyes. I thought he had fallen asleep, but when Currie softly opened +the door to announce Salveter, Vance bade him show the visitor up +before the old man could speak. +</p> + +<p> +Salveter entered a minute later looking anxious and puzzled. +</p> + +<p> +“Sit down, Mr. Salveter.” Vance waved him indolently to a chair. “I’ve +been thinkin’ about Queen Hetep-hir-es and the Boston Museum. Have you +any business that might reasonably take you to Boston to-night?” +</p> + +<p> +Salveter appeared even more puzzled. +</p> + +<p> +“I always have work that I can do there,” he replied, frowning. +“Especially in view of the excavations of the Harvard-Boston +Expedition at the Gîzeh pyramids. It was in connection with these +excavations that I had to go to the Metropolitan yesterday morning for +Doctor Bliss.… Does that answer your question satisfactorily?” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite.… And these reproductions of the tomb furniture of +Hetep-hir-es: couldn’t you arrange for them more easily if you saw +Doctor Reisner personally?” +</p> + +<p> +“Certainly. The fact is, I’ll have to go north anyway in order to +close up the business. I was merely on the trail of preliminary +information yesterday.” +</p> + +<p> +“Would the fact that to-morrow is Sunday handicap you in any way?” +</p> + +<p> +“To the contrary. I could probably see Doctor Reisner away from his +office, and go into the matter at leisure with him.” +</p> + +<p> +“That being the case, suppose you hop a train to-night after dinner. +Come back, let us say, to-morrow night. Any objection?” +</p> + +<p> +Salveter’s puzzlement gave way to astonishment. +</p> + +<p> +“Why—no,” he stammered. “No particular objection. But——” +</p> + +<p> +“Would Doctor Bliss think it strange if you jumped out on such sudden +notice?” +</p> + +<p> +“I couldn’t say. Probably not. The museum isn’t a particularly +pleasant place just now.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I want you to go, Mr. Salveter.” Vance abandoned his lounging +demeanor and sat up. “And I want you to go without question or +argument.… There’s no possibility of Doctor Bliss’s forbidding you to +go, is there?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, nothing like that,” Salveter assured him. “He may think it’s +queer, my running off at just this time; but he never meddles in the +way I choose to do my work.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance rose. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s all. There’s a train to Boston from the Grand Central at half +past nine to-night. See that you take it.… And,” he added, “you might +phone me from the station, by way of verification. I’ll be here +between nine and nine-thirty.… You may return to New York any time you +desire after to-morrow noon.” +</p> + +<p> +Salveter gave Vance an abashed grin. +</p> + +<p> +“I suppose those are orders.” +</p> + +<p> +“Serious and important orders, Mr. Salveter,” Vance returned with +quiet impressiveness. “And you needn’t worry about Mrs. Bliss. Hani, +I’m sure, will take good care of her.” +</p> + +<p> +Salveter started to make a reply, changed his mind, and, turning +abruptly, strode rapidly away. +</p> + +<p> +Vance yawned and rose languorously. +</p> + +<p> +“And now I think I’ll take two more hours’ sleep.” +</p> + +<p> +After lunch at Marguéry’s, Vance went to the Gauguin exhibition, and +later walked to Carnegie Hall to hear the Beethoven <i>Septet</i>. It was +too late when the concert was over to see the Egyptian wall paintings +at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Instead, he called for Markham in +his car, and the three of us drove to the Claremont for dinner. +</p> + +<p> +Vance explained briefly what steps he had taken in regard to Salveter. +Markham made scant comment. He looked tired and discouraged, but there +was a distracted tensity about his manner that made me realize how +greatly he was counting on Vance’s prediction that something tangible +would soon happen in connection with the Kyle case. +</p> + +<p> +After dinner we returned to Vance’s roof-garden. The enervating +mid-summer heat still held, and there was scarcely a breath of air +stirring. +</p> + +<p> +“I told Heath I’d phone him——” Markham began, sinking into a large +peacock wicker chair. +</p> + +<p> +“I was about to suggest getting in touch with the Sergeant,” Vance +chimed in. “I’d rather like to have him on hand, don’t y’ know. He’s +so comfortin’.” +</p> + +<p> +He rang for Currie and ordered the telephone. Then he called Heath and +asked him to join us. +</p> + +<p> +“I have a psychic feelin’,” he said to Markham, with an air of forced +levity, “that we are going to be summoned anon to witness the +irrefutable proof of some one’s guilt. And if that proof is what I +think it is.…” +</p> + +<p> +Markham suddenly leaned forward in his chair. +</p> + +<p> +“It has just come to me what you’ve been hinting about so +mysteriously!” he exclaimed. “It has to do with that hieroglyphic +letter you found in the study.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance hesitated but momentarily. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Markham,” he nodded. “That torn letter hasn’t been explained +yet. And I have a theory about it that I can’t shake off—it fits too +perfectly with the whole fiendish scheme.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you have the letter,” Markham argued, in an effort to draw Vance +out. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes. And I’m prizin’ it.” +</p> + +<p> +“You believe it’s the letter Salveter said he wrote?” +</p> + +<p> +“Undoubtedly.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you believe he is ignorant of its having been torn up and put in +the doctor’s waste-basket?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, quite. He’s still wonderin’ what became of it—and worryin’, +too.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham studied Vance with baffled curiosity. +</p> + +<p> +“You spoke of some purpose to which the letter might have been put +before it was thrown away.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s what I’m waiting to verify. The fact is, Markham, I expected +that the letter would enter into the mystery of the dagger throwing +last night. And I’ll admit I was frightfully downcast when we’d got +the whole family snugly back to bed without having run upon a single +hieroglyph.” He reached for a cigarette. “There was a reason for it, +and I think I know the explanation. That’s why I’m pinnin’ my +childlike faith on what may happen at any moment now.…” +</p> + +<p> +The telephone rang, and Vance himself answered it at once. It was +Salveter calling from the Grand Central Station; and after a brief +verbal interchange, Vance replaced the instrument on the table with an +air of satisfaction. +</p> + +<p> +“The doctor,” he said, “was evidently quite willin’ to endure to-night +and to-morrow without his assistant curator. So that bit of strategy +was achieved without difficulty.…” +</p> + +<p> +Half an hour later Heath was ushered into the roof-garden. He was glum +and depressed, and his greeting was little more than a guttural +rumble. +</p> + +<p> +“Lift up your heart, Sergeant,” Vance exhorted him cheerfully. “This +is Bastille Day.<sup><a href="#n29b" id="n29a">[29]</a></sup> It may have a symbolic meaning. It’s not beyond +the realm of possibility that you will be able to incarcerate the +murderer of Kyle before midnight.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yeah?” Heath was utterly sceptical. “Is he coming here to give +himself up, bringing all the necessary proof with him? A nice, +accommodating fella.” +</p> + +<p> +“Not exactly, Sergeant. But I’m expecting him to send for us; and I +think he may be so generous as to point out the principal clew +himself.” +</p> + +<p> +“Cuckoo, is he? Well, Mr. Vance, if he does that, no jury’ll convict +him. He’ll get a bill of insanity with free lodging and medical care +for the rest of his life.” He looked at his watch. “It’s ten o’clock. +What time does the tip-off come?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ten?” Vance verified the hour. “My word! It’s later than I thought.…” +A look of anxiety passed over his set features. “I wonder if I could +have miscalculated this whole affair.” +</p> + +<p> +He put out his cigarette and began pacing back and forth. Presently he +stopped before Markham, who was watching him uneasily. +</p> + +<p> +“When I sent Salveter away,” he began slowly, “I was confident that +the expected event would happen forthwith. But I’m afraid something +has gone wrong. Therefore I think I had better outline the case to you +now.” +</p> + +<p> +He paused and frowned. +</p> + +<p> +“However,” he added, “it would be advisable to have Scarlett present. +I’m sure he could fill in a few of the gaps.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham looked surprised. +</p> + +<p> +“What does Scarlett know about it?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, much,” was Vance’s brief reply. Then he turned to the telephone +and hesitated. “He hasn’t a private phone, and I don’t know the number +of the house exchange.…” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s easy.” Heath picked up the receiver and asked for a certain +night official of the company. After a few words of explanation, he +clicked the hook and called a number. There was considerable delay, +but at length some one answered at the other end. From the Sergeant’s +questions it was evident Scarlett was not at home. +</p> + +<p> +“That was his landlady,” Heath explained disgustedly, when he had +replaced the receiver. “Scarlett went out at eight o’clock—said he +was going to the museum for a while and would be back at nine. Had an +appointment at nine with a guy at his apartment, and the guy’s still +waiting for him.…” +</p> + +<p> +“We can reach him at the museum, then.” Vance rang up the Bliss number +and asked Brush to call Scarlett to the phone. After several minutes +he pushed the instrument from him. +</p> + +<p> +“Scarlett isn’t at the museum either,” he said. “He came, so Brush +says, at about eight, and must have departed unobserved. He’s probably +on his way back to his quarters. We’ll wait a while and phone him +there again.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is it necessary to have Scarlett here?” Markham asked impatiently. +</p> + +<p> +“Not precisely necess’ry,” Vance returned evasively; “but most +desirable. You remember he admitted quite frankly he could tell me a +great deal about the murderer——” +</p> + +<p> +He broke off abruptly, and with tense deliberation selected and +lighted another cigarette. His lids drooped, and he stared fixedly at +the floor. +</p> + +<p> +“Sergeant,” he said in a repressed tone, “I believe you said Mr. +Scarlett had an appointment with some one at nine and had informed his +landlady he would return at that hour.” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s what the dame told me over the phone.” +</p> + +<p> +“Please see if he has reached home yet.” +</p> + +<p> +Without a word Heath again lifted the receiver and called Scarlett’s +number. A minute later he turned to Vance. +</p> + +<p> +“He hasn’t shown up.” +</p> + +<p> +“Deuced queer,” Vance muttered. “I don’t at all like this, Markham.…” +</p> + +<p> +His mind drifted off in speculation, and it seemed to me that his face +paled slightly. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m becoming frightened,” he went on in a hushed voice. “We should +have heard about that letter by now.… I’m afraid there’s trouble +ahead.” +</p> + +<p> +He gave Markham a look of grave and urgent concern. +</p> + +<p> +“We can’t afford to delay any longer. It may even be too late as it +is. We’ve got to act at once.” He moved toward the door. “Come on, +Markham. And you, Sergeant. We’re overdue at the museum. If we hurry +we may be in time.” +</p> + +<p> +Both Markham and Heath had risen as Vance spoke. There was a strange +insistence in his tone, and a foreboding of terrible things in his +eyes. He disappeared swiftly into the house; and the rest of us, urged +by the suppressed excitement of his manner, followed in silence. His +car was outside, and a few moments later we were swinging dangerously +round the corner of Thirty-eighth Street and Park Avenue, headed for +the Bliss Museum. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch20"> +CHAPTER XX.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">THE GRANITE SARCOPHAGUS</span> +</h3> + +<p class="center"> +(<i>Saturday, July 14; 10.10 p.m.</i>) +</p> + +<p> +We arrived at the museum in less than ten minutes. Vance ran up the +stone steps, Markham and Heath and I at his heels. Not only was there +a light burning in the vestibule, but through the frosted glass panels +of the front door we could see a bright light in the hall. Vance +pressed the bell vigorously, but it was some time before Brush +answered our summons. +</p> + +<p> +“Napping?” Vance asked. He was in a tense, sensitive mood. +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir.” Brush shrank from him. “I was in the kitchen——” +</p> + +<p> +“Tell Doctor Bliss we’re here, and want to see him at once.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir.” The butler went down the hall and knocked on the study +door. There was no answer, and he knocked again. After a moment he +turned the knob and looked in the room. Then he came back to us. +</p> + +<p> +“The doctor is not in his study. Perhaps he has gone to his bedroom.… +I’ll see.” +</p> + +<p> +He moved toward the stairs and was about to ascend when a calm, even +voice halted him. +</p> + +<p> +“Bliss <i>effendi</i> is not up-stairs.” Hani came slowly down to the front +hall. “It is possible he is in the museum.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, well!” Vance regarded the man reflectively. “Amazin’ how you +always turn up.… So you think he may be potterin’ among his +treasures—eh, what?” He pushed open the great steel door of the +museum. “If the doctor is in here, he’s whiling away his time in the +dark.” Stepping to the stair-landing inside the museum door, he +switched on the lights and looked about the great room. “You’re +apparently in error, Hani, regarding the doctor’s whereabouts. To all +appearances the museum is empty.” +</p> + +<p> +The Egyptian was unruffled. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps Doctor Bliss has gone out for a breath of air.” +</p> + +<p> +There was a troubled frown on Vance’s face. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s possible,” he murmured. “However, I wish you’d make sure he is +not up-stairs.” +</p> + +<p> +“I would have seen him had he come up-stairs after dinner,” the +Egyptian replied softly. “But I will follow your instructions +nevertheless.” And he went to search for Bliss. +</p> + +<p> +Vance stepped up to Brush and asked in a low voice: +</p> + +<p> +“At what time did Mr. Scarlett leave here to-night?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know, sir.” The man was mystified by Vance’s manner. “I +really don’t know. He came at about eight—I let him in. He may have +gone out with Doctor Bliss. They often take a walk together at night.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did Mr. Scarlett go into the museum when he arrived at eight?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, sir. He asked for Doctor Bliss.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! And did he see the doctor?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir.… That is,”—Brush corrected himself—“I suppose he did. I +told him Doctor Bliss was in the study, and he at once went down the +hall. I returned to the kitchen.” +</p> + +<p> +“Did you notice anything unusual in Mr. Scarlett’s manner?” +</p> + +<p> +The butler thought a moment. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, sir, since you mention it, I might say that Mr. Scarlett was +rather stiff and distant, like there was something on his mind—if you +know what I mean.” +</p> + +<p> +“And the last you saw of him was when he was approaching the study +door?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, sir.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance nodded a dismissal. +</p> + +<p> +“Remain in the drawing-room for the time being,” he said. +</p> + +<p> +As Brush disappeared through the folding door Hani came slowly down +the stairs. +</p> + +<p> +“It is as I said,” he responded indifferently. “Doctor Bliss is not +up-stairs.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance scrutinized him sternly. +</p> + +<p> +“Do you know that Mr. Scarlett called here to-night?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I know.” A curious light came into the man’s eyes. “I was in the +drawing-room when Brush admitted him.” +</p> + +<p> +“He came to see Doctor Bliss,” said Vance. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. I heard him ask Brush——” +</p> + +<p> +“Did Mr. Scarlett see the doctor?” +</p> + +<p> +The Egyptian did not answer at once. He met Vance’s gaze steadily as +if trying to read the other’s thoughts. At length, reaching a +decision, he said: +</p> + +<p> +“They were together—to my knowledge—for at least half an hour. When +Mr. Scarlett entered the study he left the door open by the merest +crack, and I was able to hear them talking together. But I could not +distinguish anything that was said. Their voices were subdued.” +</p> + +<p> +“How long did you listen?” +</p> + +<p> +“For half an hour. Then I went up-stairs.” +</p> + +<p> +“You have not seen either Doctor Bliss or Mr. Scarlett since?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, <i>effendi</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +“Where was Mr. Salveter during the conference in the study?” Vance was +striving hard to control his anxiety. +</p> + +<p> +“Was he here in the house?” Hani asked evasively. “He told me at +dinner that he was going to Boston.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes—on the nine-thirty train. He needn’t have left the house +until nine.—Where was he between eight and nine?” +</p> + +<p> +Hani shrugged his shoulders. +</p> + +<p> +“I did not see him. He went out before Mr. Scarlett arrived. He was +certainly not here after eight——” +</p> + +<p> +“You’re lying.” Vance’s tone was icy. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Wahyât en-nabi</i>——” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t try to impress me—I’m not in the humor.” Vance’s eyes were +like steel. “What do you think happened here to-night?” +</p> + +<p> +“I think perhaps Sakhmet returned.” +</p> + +<p> +A pallor seemed to overspread Vance’s face: it may, however, have been +only the reflection of the hall light. +</p> + +<p> +“Go to your room and wait there,” he said curtly. +</p> + +<p> +Hani bowed. +</p> + +<p> +“You do not need my help now, <i>effendi</i>. You understand many things.” +And the Egyptian walked away with much dignity. +</p> + +<p> +Vance stood tensely until he had disappeared. Then, with a motion to +us, he hurried down the hall to the study. Throwing open the door he +switched on the lights. +</p> + +<p> +There was anxiety and haste in all his movements, and the electric +atmosphere of his demeanor was transmitted to the rest of us. We +realized that something tragic and terrible was leading him on. +</p> + +<p> +He went to the two windows and leaned out. By the pale reflected light +he could see the asphalt tiles on the ground below. He looked under +the desk, and measured with his eyes the four-inch clearance beneath +the divan. Then he went to the door leading into the museum. +</p> + +<p> +“I hardly thought we’d find anything in the study; but there was a +chance.…” +</p> + +<p> +He was now swinging down the spiral stairs. +</p> + +<p> +“It will be here in the museum,” he called to us. “Come along, +Sergeant. There’s work to do. A fiend has been loose to-night.…” +</p> + +<p> +He walked past the state chair and the shelves of <i>shawabtis</i>, and +stood beside the long glass table case, his hands deep in his coat +pockets, his eyes moving rapidly about the room. Markham and Heath and +I waited at the foot of the stairs. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s this all about?” Markham asked huskily. “What has taken place? +And what, incidentally, are you looking for?” +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t know what has taken place.” Something in Vance’s tone sent a +chill through me. “And I’m looking for something damnable. If it isn’t +here.…” +</p> + +<p> +He did not finish the sentence. Going swiftly to the great replica of +Kha-ef-Rê he walked round it. Then he went to the statue of Ramses II +and inspected its base. After that he moved to Teti-shiret and tapped +the pedestal with his knuckles. +</p> + +<p> +“They’re all solid,” he muttered. “We must try the mummy cases.” He +recrossed the museum. “Start at that end, Sergeant. The covers should +come off easily. If you have any difficulty, tear them off.” He +himself went to the anthropoid case beside Kha-ef-Rê and, inserting +his hand beneath the upstanding lid, lifted it off and laid it on the +floor. +</p> + +<p> +Heath, apparently animated by an urgent desire for physical action, +had already begun his search at the other end of the line. He was by +no means gentle about it. He tore the lids off viciously, throwing +them to the floor with unnecessary clatter. +</p> + +<p> +Vance, absorbed in his own task, paid scant attention except to glance +up as each lid was separated from the case. Markham, however, had +begun to grow uneasy. He watched the Sergeant disapprovingly for +several minutes, his face clouding over. Then he stepped forward. +</p> + +<p> +“I can’t let this go on, Vance,” he remarked. “These are valuable +treasures, and we have no right——” +</p> + +<p> +Vance stood up and looked straight at Markham. +</p> + +<p> +“And if there is a dead man in one of them?” he asked with a cold +precision that caused Markham to stiffen. +</p> + +<p> +“A dead man?” +</p> + +<p> +“Placed here to-night—between eight and nine.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance’s words had an ominous and impressive quality, and Markham said +no more. He stood by, his features strained and set, watching the +feverish inspection of the remaining mummy cases. +</p> + +<p> +But no grisly discovery was made. Heath removed the lid of the last +case in obvious disappointment. +</p> + +<p> +“I guess something’s gone wrong with your ideas, Mr. Vance,” he +commented without animus: indeed, there was a kindly note in his +voice. +</p> + +<p> +Vance, distraught and with a far-away look in his eyes, now stood by +the glass case. His distress was so apparent that Markham went to him +and touched him on the arm. +</p> + +<p> +“Perhaps if we could re-calculate this affair along other lines——” +he began; but Vance interrupted. +</p> + +<p> +“No; it can’t be re-calculated. It’s too logical. There’s been a +tragedy here to-night—and we were too late to intercept it.” +</p> + +<p> +“We should have taken precautions.” Markham’s tone was bitter. +</p> + +<p> +“Precautions! Every possible precaution was taken. A new element was +introduced into the situation to-night—an element that couldn’t +possibly have been foreseen. To-night’s tragedy was not part of the +plot.…” Vance turned and walked away. “I must think this thing out. I +must trace the murderer’s reasoning.…” He made an entire circuit of +the museum without taking his eyes from the floor. +</p> + +<p> +Heath was puffing moodily on his cigar. He had not moved from in front +of the mummy cases, and was pretending to be interested in their +crudely colored hieroglyphs. Ever since the “Canary” murder case, when +Tony Skeel had failed to keep his appointment in the District +Attorney’s office, he had, for all his protests, believed in Vance’s +prognostications; and now he was deeply troubled at the other’s +failure. I was watching him, a bit dazed myself, when I saw a frown of +puzzled curiosity wrinkle his forehead. Taking his cigar from his +mouth he bent over one of the fallen mummy cases and lifted out a +slender metal object. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s a hell of a place to keep an automobile jack,” he observed. +(His interest in the jack was obviously the result of an unconscious +attempt to distract his thoughts from the tense situation.) +</p> + +<p> +He threw the jack back into the case and sat down on the base of +Kha-ef-Rê’s statue. Neither Vance nor Markham had apparently paid the +slightest attention to his irrelevant discovery. +</p> + +<p> +Vance continued pacing round the museum. For the first time since our +arrival at the house he took out a cigarette and lighted it. +</p> + +<p> +“Every line of reasoning leads here, Markham.” He spoke in a low, +hopeless tone. “There was no necessity for the evidence to have been +taken away. In the first place, it would have been too hazardous; and, +in the second place, we were not supposed to have suspected anything +for a day or two.…” +</p> + +<p> +His voice faltered and his body went suddenly taut. He wheeled toward +Heath. +</p> + +<p> +“An automobile jack!” A dynamic change had come over him. “Oh, my +aunt! I wonder… I wonder.…” +</p> + +<p> +He hurried toward the black sarcophagus beneath the front windows, and +scrutinized it anxiously. +</p> + +<p> +“Too high,” he murmured. “Three feet from the floor! It couldn’t have +been done.… But it had to be done—somehow.…” He looked about him. +“That taboret!” He pointed to a small solid oak stand, about twenty +inches high, against the wall near the Asiatic wooden statue. “It was +not there last night; it was beside the desk-table by the +obelisk—Scarlett was using it.” As he spoke he went to the taboret +and picked it up. “And the top is scratched—there’s an indentation.…” +He placed the stand against the head of the sarcophagus. “Quick, +Sergeant! Bring me that jack.” +</p> + +<p> +Heath obeyed with swiftness; and Vance placed the jack on the taboret, +fitting its base over the scars in the wood. The lifting-head came +within an inch of the under-side of the sarcophagus’s lid where it +extended a few inches over the end elevation between the two +projecting lion-legged supports at the corners. +</p> + +<p> +We had gathered about Vance in tense silence, not knowing what to +expect but feeling that we were on the threshold of some appalling +revelation. +</p> + +<p> +Vance inserted the elevating lever, which Heath handed him, into the +socket, and moved it carefully up and down. The jack worked perfectly. +At each downward thrust of the lever there was a metallic click as the +detent slipped into the groove of the rack. Inch by inch the end of +the ponderous granite lid—which must have weighed over half a +ton<sup><a href="#n30b" id="n30a">[30]</a></sup>—rose. +</p> + +<p> +Heath suddenly stepped back in alarm. +</p> + +<p> +“Ain’t you afraid, Mr. Vance, that the lid’ll slide off the other end +of the coffin?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, Sergeant,” Vance assured him. “The friction alone of so heavy a +mass would hold it at a much greater angle than this jack could tilt +it.” +</p> + +<p> +The head of the cover was now eight inches in the clear, and Vance was +using both hands on the lever. He had to work with great care lest the +jack slip from the smooth under-surface of the granite. Nine inches… +</p> + +<figure> +<img alt="img_285.jpg" src="images/img_285.jpg"> +</figure> + +<p class="noindent"> +ten inches… eleven… twelve.… The rack had almost reached its limit of +elevation. With one final thrust downward, Vance released the lever +and tested the solidity of the extended jack. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s safe, I think.…” +</p> + +<p> +Heath had already taken out his pocket-light and flashed it into the +dark recesses of the sarcophagus. +</p> + +<p> +“Mother o’ God!” he gasped. +</p> + +<p> +I was standing just behind him, leaning over his broad shoulders; and +simultaneously with the flare of his light I saw the horrifying thing +that had made him call out. In the end of the sarcophagus was a dark, +huddled human body, the back hunched upward and the legs hideously +cramped, as if some one had hastily shoved it through the aperture, +head first. +</p> + +<p> +Markham stood bending forward like a person paralyzed in the midst of +an action. +</p> + +<p> +Vance’s quiet but insistent voice broke the tension of our horror. +</p> + +<p> +“Hold your light steady, Sergeant. And you, Markham, lend me a hand. +But be careful. Don’t touch the jack.…” +</p> + +<p> +With great caution they reached into the sarcophagus and turned the +body until the head was toward the widest point of the opening. A +chill ran up my spine as I watched them, for I knew that the slightest +jar, or the merest touch on the jack, would bring the massive granite +lid down upon them. Heath, too, realized this—I could see the +glistening beads of sweat on his forehead as he watched the dangerous +operation with fearful eyes. +</p> + +<p> +Slowly the body emerged through the small opening, and when the feet +had passed over the edge of the sarcophagus and clattered to the +floor, the flash-light went out, and Heath sprawled back on his +haunches with a convulsive gasp. +</p> + +<p> +“Hell! I musta stumbled, Mr. Vance,” he muttered. (I liked the +Sergeant even more after that episode.) +</p> + +<p> +Markham stood looking down at the inert body in stupefaction. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Scarlett</i>!” he exclaimed in a voice of complete incredulity. +</p> + +<p> +Vance merely nodded, and bent over the prostrate figure. Scarlett’s +face was cyanosed, due to insufficient oxygenation of the blood; his +eyes were set in a fixed bulging stare; and there was a crust +formation of blood at his nostrils. Vance put his ear on the man’s +chest and took his wrist in one hand to feel the pulse. Then he drew +out his gold cigarette-case and held it before Scarlett’s lips. After +a glance at the case he turned excitedly to Heath. +</p> + +<p> +“The ambulance, Sergeant! Hurry! Scarlett’s still alive.…” +</p> + +<p> +Heath dashed up the stairs and disappeared into the front hall. +</p> + +<p> +Markham regarded Vance intently. +</p> + +<p> +“I don’t understand this,” he said huskily. +</p> + +<p> +“Nor do I—entirely.” Vance’s eyes were on Scarlett. “I advised him to +keep away from here. He, too, knew the danger, and yet.… You remember +Rider Haggard’s dedication of ‘Allan Quatermain’ to his son, wherein +he spoke of the highest rank to which one can attain—the state and +dignity of an English gentleman?<sup><a href="#n31b" id="n31a">[31]</a></sup>… Scarlett was an English +gentleman. Knowing the peril, he came here to-night. He thought he +might end the tragedy.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham was stunned and puzzled. +</p> + +<p> +“We’ve got to take some sort of action—now.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.…” Vance was deeply concerned. “But the difficulties! There’s no +evidence. We’re helpless.… Unless——” He stopped short. “That +hieroglyphic letter! Maybe it’s here somewhere. To-night was the time; +but Scarlett came unexpectedly. I wonder if he knew about that, too.…” +Vance’s eyes drifted thoughtfully into space, and for several moments +he stood rigid. Then he suddenly went to the sarcophagus and, striking +a match, looked inside. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing.” There was dire disappointment in his tone. “And yet, it +should be here.…” He straightened up. “Perhaps… yes! That, too, would +be logical.” +</p> + +<p> +He knelt down beside the unconscious man and began going through his +pockets. Scarlett’s coat was buttoned, and it was not until Vance had +reached into the inner breast pocket that his search was rewarded. He +drew out a crumpled sheet of yellow scratch paper of the kind on which +Salveter’s Egyptian exercise had been written, and after one glance at +it thrust it into his own pocket. +</p> + +<p> +Heath appeared at the door. +</p> + +<p> +“O.K.,” he called down, “I told ’em to rush it.” +</p> + +<p> +“How long will it take?” Vance asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Not more’n ten minutes. I called Headquarters; and they’ll relay it +to the local station. They generally pick up the cop on the beat—but +that don’t delay things. I’ll wait here at the door for ’em.” +</p> + +<p> +“Just a moment.” Vance wrote something on the back of an envelope and +handed it up to Heath. “Call Western Union and get this telegram off.” +</p> + +<p> +Heath took the message, read it, whistled softly, and went out into +the hall. +</p> + +<p> +“I’m wiring Salveter at New Haven to leave the train at New London and +return to New York,” Vance explained to Markham. “He’ll be able to +catch the Night Express at New London, and will get here early +to-morrow morning.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham looked at him shrewdly. +</p> + +<p> +“You think he’ll come?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, yes.” +</p> + +<p> +When the ambulance arrived, Heath escorted the interne, the +blue-uniformed driver and the police officer into the museum. The +interne, a pink-faced youth with a serious brow, bowed to Markham and +knelt beside Scarlett. After a superficial examination, he beckoned to +the driver. +</p> + +<p> +“Go easy with his head.” +</p> + +<p> +The man, assisted by the officer, lifted Scarlett to the stretcher. +</p> + +<p> +“How bad is he, doctor?” Markham asked anxiously. +</p> + +<p> +“Pretty bad, sir.” The interne shook his head pompously. “A messy +fracture at the base of the skull. Cheyne-Stokes breathing. If he +lives, he’s luckier than I’ll ever be.” And with a shrug he followed +the stretcher out of the house. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll phone the hospital later,” Markham said to Vance. “If Scarlett +recovers, he can supply us with evidence.” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t count on it,” Vance discouraged him. “To-night’s episode was +isolated.” He went to the sarcophagus and reversed the jack. Slowly +the lid descended to its original position. “A bit dangerous, don’t y’ +know, to leave it up.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham stood by frowning. +</p> + +<p> +“Vance, what paper was that you found in Scarlett’s pocket?” +</p> + +<p> +“I imagine it was an incriminatin’ document written in Egyptian +hieroglyphs. We’ll see.” +</p> + +<p> +He spread the paper out smoothly on the top of the sarcophagus. It was +almost exactly like the letter Vance had pieced together in Bliss’s +study. The color of the paper was the same, and it contained four rows +of hieroglyphs drawn in green ink. +</p> + +<p> +Vance studied it while Markham and Heath, who had returned to the +museum, and I looked on. +</p> + +<p> +“Let me see how well I remember my Egyptian,” he murmured. “It’s been +years since I did any transliterating.…” +</p> + +<p> +He placed his monocle in his eye and bent forward. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Meryet-Amûn, aha-y o er yu son maut-y en merya-y men seshem pen +dya-y em yeb-y era-y en marwet mar-en yu rekha-t khet nibet hir-sa +hetpa-t na-y kheft shewa-n em debat nefra-n entot hena-y.</i>… This is +done very accurately, Markham. The nouns and adjectives agree as to +gender, and the verb endings——” +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind those matters,” Markham interrupted impatiently. “What +does that paper say?” +</p> + +<p> +“I beg of you, Markham old dear!” Vance protested. “Middle-Kingdom +Egyptian is a most difficult language. Coptic and Assyrian and Greek +and Sanskrit are abecedarian beside it. However, I can give you a +literal translation.” He began reading slowly: “ ‘Beloved of Amûn, I +stop here until comes the brother of my mother. Not do I wish that +should-endure this situation. I have-placed in my heart that I +should-act for the sake of our well-being. Thou shalt-know every-thing +later. Thou shalt-be-satisfied +</p> + +<figure> +<a href="images/img_291.jpg"><img alt="img_291.jpg" src="images/img_291_th.jpg"></a> +<figcaption> +THE HIEROGLYPHIC LETTER +</figcaption> +</figure> + +<p class="noindent"> +toward me when we are-free from what-blocks-the-way, happy-are we, +thou together-with me.…’ Not what you’d call Harvardian. But such were +the verbal idiosyncrasies of the ancient Egyptians.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, it don’t make sense to me,” Heath commented sourly. +</p> + +<p> +“But properly paraphrased it makes fiendish sense, Sergeant. Put into +everyday English, it says: ‘Meryt-Amen: I am waiting here for my +uncle. I cannot endure this situation any longer; and I have decided +to take drastic action for the sake of our happiness. You will +understand everything later, and you will forgive me when we are free +from all obstacles and can be happy together.’ … I say, Sergeant; does +that make sense?” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll tell the world!” Heath looked at Vance with an air of +contemptuous criticism. “And you sent that bird Salveter to Boston!” +</p> + +<p> +“He’ll be back to-morrow,” Vance assured him. +</p> + +<p> +“But see here;”—Markham’s eyes were fixed on the incriminating +paper—“what about that other letter you pieced together? And how did +this letter get in Scarlett’s pocket?” +</p> + +<p> +Vance folded the paper carefully and placed it in his wallet. +</p> + +<p> +“The time has come,” he said slowly, “to tell you everything. It may +be, when you have the facts in hand, you can figure out some course of +procedure. I can see legal difficulties ahead; but I now have all the +evidence we can ever hope for.” He was uneasy and troubled. +“Scarlett’s intrusion in to-night’s happenings changed the murderer’s +plans. Anyway, I can now convince you of the incredible and abominable +truth.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham studied him for several moments, and a startled light came in +his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>God Almighty!</i>” he breathed. “I see what you mean.” He clicked his +teeth together. “But first I must phone the hospital. There’s a chance +that Scarlett can help us—if he lives.” +</p> + +<p> +He went to the rear of the museum and mounted the spiral stairs to the +study. A few minutes later he reappeared, his face dark and hopeless. +</p> + +<p> +“I spoke to the doctor,” he said. “There’s not one chance in a +thousand for Scarlett. Concussion of the brain—and suffocation. +They’ve got the pulmotor on him now. Even if he does pull through +he’ll be unconscious for a week or two.” +</p> + +<p> +“I was afraid of that.” I had rarely seen Vance so distressed. “We +were too late. But—dash it all!—I couldn’t have foreseen his +quixotism. And I warned him.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Come, old man.” Markham spoke with paternal kindliness. “It’s not +your fault. There was nothing you could have done. And you were right +in keeping the truth to yourself——” +</p> + +<p> +“Excuse <i>me</i>!” Heath was exasperated. “I myself ain’t exactly an enemy +of truth. Why can’t I get in on this?” +</p> + +<p> +“You can, Sergeant.” Vance placed his hand on the other’s shoulder. +“Let’s go to the drawing-room. ‘And every mountain and hill shall be +made low; and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough places +plain.’ ” +</p> + +<p> +He moved toward the stairs; and we followed him. +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch21"> +CHAPTER XXI.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">THE MURDERER</span> +</h3> + +<p class="center"> +(<i>Saturday, July 14; 10.40 p.m.</i>) +</p> + +<p> +As we entered the drawing-room Brush rose. He was pale and palpably +frightened. +</p> + +<p> +“Why are you worried?” Vance asked. +</p> + +<p> +“Suppose, sir, I should be blamed!” the man blurted. “It was I who +left the front door open yesterday morning—I wanted to get some fresh +air. And then you came and said something had happened to Mr. Kyle. I +know I shouldn’t have unlatched the door.” (I realized then why he had +acted in so terrified a manner.) +</p> + +<p> +“You may cheer up,” Vance told him. “We know who killed Mr. Kyle, and +I can assure you, Brush, that the murderer didn’t come in the front +door.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, sir.” The words were like a sigh of relief. +</p> + +<p> +“And now tell Hani to come here. Then you may go to your room.” +</p> + +<p> +Brush had scarcely left us when there was the sound of a key being +inserted in the front door. A moment later Doctor Bliss appeared at +the entrance to the drawing-room. +</p> + +<p> +“Good-evening, doctor,” Vance greeted him. “I hope we’re not +intrudin’. But there are several questions we wish to ask Hani during +Mr. Salveter’s absence.” +</p> + +<p> +“I understand,” Bliss returned, with a sad nod. “You know, then, of +Salveter’s excursion to Boston.” +</p> + +<p> +“He phoned me and asked if he might go.” +</p> + +<p> +Bliss looked at Vance with heavy, inquisitive eyes. +</p> + +<p> +“His wanting to go north at this time was most unusual,” he said; “but +I did not raise any objection. The atmosphere here is very depressing, +and I sympathized with his desire to escape from it.” +</p> + +<p> +“What time did he leave the house?” Vance put the question carelessly. +</p> + +<p> +“About nine. I offered to drive him to the station.…” +</p> + +<p> +“At nine, what? And where was he between eight and nine?” +</p> + +<p> +Bliss looked unhappy. +</p> + +<p> +“He was with me in the study. We were going over details regarding the +reproductions of Hotepheres’ tomb furniture.” +</p> + +<p> +“Was he with you when Mr. Scarlett arrived?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” Bliss frowned. “Very peculiar, Scarlett’s visit. He evidently +wanted to talk to Salveter alone. He acted most mysteriously—treated +Salveter with a sort of resentful coldness. But I continued to discuss +the object of Salveter’s trip north——” +</p> + +<p> +“Mr. Scarlett waited?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes. He watched Salveter like a hawk. Then, when Salveter went out, +Scarlett went with him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah! And you, doctor?” Vance was apparently absorbed in selecting a +cigarette from his case. +</p> + +<p> +“I stayed in the study.” +</p> + +<p> +“And that’s the last you saw of either Scarlett or Salveter?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.… I went for a walk about half past nine. I looked in the museum +on my way out, thinking possibly Scarlett had remained and would join +me; but the room was dark. So I strolled down the avenue to Washington +Square.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Thank you, doctor.” Vance had lighted his cigarette and was smoking +moodily. “We sha’n’t trouble you any more to-night.” +</p> + +<p> +Hani entered the room. +</p> + +<p> +“You wish to see me?” His manner was detached and, I thought, a trifle +bored. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes.” Vance indicated a chair facing the table. Then he turned +quickly to Bliss who was on the point of going out. +</p> + +<p> +“On second thought, doctor, it may be advisable for us to question you +again regarding Mr. Salveter.—Would you mind waiting in the study?” +</p> + +<p> +“Not at all.” Bliss shot him a comprehending glance, and went down the +hall. A few moments later we heard the study door close. +</p> + +<p> +Vance gave Hani a curious look, which I did not understand. +</p> + +<p> +“I have something I wish to tell to Mr. Markham,” he said. “Will you +be good enough to stand in the hall and see that no one disturbs us?” +</p> + +<p> +Hani rose. +</p> + +<p> +“With pleasure, <i>effendi</i>.” And he took his post outside. +</p> + +<p> +Vance closed the folding doors, and coming back to the centre-table, +settled himself comfortably. +</p> + +<p> +“You, Markham—and you, Sergeant—were both right yesterday morning +when you concluded that Doctor Bliss was guilty of murdering Kyle——” +</p> + +<p> +“Say, listen!” Heath leapt to his feet. “What the hell——!” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, quite, Sergeant. Please sit down and control yourself.” +</p> + +<p> +“I said he killed him! And you said——” +</p> + +<p> +“My word! Can’t you be tranquil? You’re so upsettin’, Sergeant.” Vance +made an exasperated gesture. “I’m aware you remarked inelegantly that +Bliss had ‘croaked’ Mr. Kyle. And I trust you have not forgotten that +I said to you last night that we often arrive at the same destination +at the same time—but from opposite directions.” +</p> + +<p> +“That was what you meant, was it?” Heath resumed his seat surlily. +“Then why didn’t you let me arrest him?” +</p> + +<p> +“Because that’s what he wanted you to do.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m floundering,” Heath wailed. “The world has gone nuts.” +</p> + +<p> +“Just a moment, Sergeant.” Markham spoke peremptorily. “I’m beginning +to understand this affair. It’s not insane in the least.—Let Mr. +Vance continue.” +</p> + +<p> +Heath started to expostulate, but instead made a grimace of +resignation, and began chewing on his cigar. +</p> + +<p> +Vance regarded him sympathetically. +</p> + +<p> +“I knew, Sergeant—or at least I strongly suspected—within five +minutes after entering the museum yesterday morning, that Bliss was +guilty. Scarlett’s story about the appointment gave me the first clew. +Bliss’s telephone call in the presence of every one and his remarks +about the new shipment struck me as fitting in perfectly with a +preconceived plan. Then, when I saw the various clews, I felt positive +they had been planted by Bliss himself. With him it was not only a +matter of pointing suspicion to himself, but—on second view—of +throwing suspicion on another. Fortunately he overstepped the grounds +of plausibility; for had some one else committed the crime, the +planted clews would have been less numerous and less obvious. +Consequently, I leapt to the conclusion that Bliss had murdered Kyle +and had, at the same time, striven to lead us to think that he was the +victim of a plot——” +</p> + +<p> +“But, Mr. Vance,” interrupted Heath, “you said——” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>I did not say one word to give you the definite impression that I +exonerated Bliss. Not once did I say he was innocent</i>.… Think back. +You’ll remember I said only that the clews did not ring true—that +things were not what they seemed. I knew the clews were traps, set by +Bliss to deceive us. And I also knew—as Mr. Markham knew—that if we +arrested Bliss on the outward evidence, it would be impossible to +convict him.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham nodded thoughtfully. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Sergeant. Mr. Vance is quite correct. I can’t recall a single +remark of his inconsistent with his belief in Bliss’s guilt.” +</p> + +<p> +“Although I knew Bliss was guilty,” Vance continued, “I didn’t know +what his ultimate object was or whom he was trying to involve. I +suspected it was Salveter—though it might have been either Scarlett +or Hani or Mrs. Bliss. I at once saw the necessity of determining the +real victim of his plot. So I pretended to fall in with the obvious +situation. I couldn’t let Bliss think that I suspected him,—my only +hope lay in pretending that I believed some one else was guilty. But I +did avoid the traps set for us. I wanted Bliss to plant other clews +against his victim and perhaps give us some workable evidence. That +was why I begged you to play a waiting game with me.” +</p> + +<p> +“But what was Bliss’s idea in having himself arrested?” Markham asked. +“There was danger in that.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very little. He probably believed that even before an indictment he +or his lawyer could persuade you of his innocence and of Salveter’s +guilt. Or, if he had been held for trial, he was almost sure of an +acquittal, and would then be entirely safe on the caressin’ principle +of double jeopardy, or <i>autrefois acquit</i>.… No, he was running no +great risk. And remember, too, he was playing a big game. Once he had +been arrested, he would have felt justified in pointing openly to +Salveter as the murderer and plotter. Hence I fought against your +arresting him, for <i>it was the very thing he wanted</i>. As long as he +thought he was free from suspicion, there was no point in his +defending himself at Salveter’s expense. And, in order to involve +Salveter, he was forced to plant more evidence, to concoct other +schemes. And it was on these schemes that I counted for evidence.” +</p> + +<p> +“I’m sunk!” The ashes of Heath’s cigar toppled off and fell over his +waistcoat, but he didn’t notice them. +</p> + +<p> +“But, Sergeant, I gave you many warnings. And there was the motive. +I’m convinced that Bliss knew there was no more financial help coming +from Kyle; and there’s nothing he wouldn’t have done to insure a +continuation of his researches. Furthermore, he was intensely jealous +of Salveter: he knew Mrs. Bliss loved the young cub.” +</p> + +<p> +“But why,” put in Markham, “did he not merely kill Salveter?” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I say! The money was a cardinal factor,—he wanted Meryt-Amen to +inherit Kyle’s wealth. His second’ry object was to eliminate Salveter +from Meryt-Amen’s heart: he had no reason for killing him. Therefore +he planned subtly to disqualify him by making it appear that Salveter +not only had murdered his uncle but had tried to send another to the +chair for it.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance slowly lighted a fresh cigarette. +</p> + +<p> +“Bliss was killing three birds with one stone. He was making himself a +martyr in Meryt-Amen’s eyes; he was eliminating Salveter; he was +insuring his wife a fortune with which he could continue his +excavations. Few murders have had so powerful a triple motive.… And +one of the tragic things is that Mrs. Bliss more than half believed in +Salveter’s guilt. She suffered abominably. You recall how she took the +attitude that she wanted the murderer brought to justice. And she +feared all the time that it was Salveter.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Still and all,” said Heath, “Bliss didn’t seem very anxious to get +Salveter mixed up in the affair.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, but he was, Sergeant. He was constantly involving Salveter while +pretending not to. A feigned reluctance, as it were. He couldn’t be +too obvious about it—that would have given his game away.… You +remember my question of who had charge of the medical supplies. Bliss +stuttered, as if trying to shield some one. Very clever, don’t y’ +know.” +</p> + +<p> +“But if you knew this——” Heath began. +</p> + +<p> +“I didn’t know <i>all</i> of it, Sergeant. I knew only that Bliss was +guilty. I was not sure that Salveter was the object of his plot. +Therefore I had to investigate and learn the truth.” +</p> + +<p> +“Anyhow, I was right in the first place when I said Bliss was guilty,” +Heath declared doggedly. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course you were, Sergeant.” Vance spoke almost affectionately. +“And I felt deuced bad to have to appear to contradict you.” He rose +and, going to Heath, held out his hand. “Will you forgive me?” +</p> + +<p> +“Well… maybe.” Heath’s eyes belied his gruff tone as he grasped +Vance’s hand. “Anyhow, I was right!” +</p> + +<p> +Vance grinned and sat down. +</p> + +<p> +“The plot itself was simple,” he continued after a moment. “Bliss +phoned Kyle in the presence of every one and made the appointment for +eleven. He specifically mentioned the new shipment, and suggested that +Kyle should come early. You see, he had decided on the murder—and on +the whole plot, in fact—when he made the fatal rendezvous. And he +deliberately left the scarab pin on the study desk. After killing Kyle +he placed the pin and the financial report near the body. And note, +Markham, that Salveter had access to both objects. Moreover, Bliss +knew that Salveter was in the habit of going to the museum after +breakfast; and he timed Kyle’s appointment so that Salveter and his +uncle would probably meet. He sent Salveter to the Metropolitan to get +him out of the house while he himself killed Kyle. And he also fixed +the statue of Sakhmet so that it would look like a trap. The murderer +could easily have come back at any time before we arrived and planted +the pin and the report and made the footprints—provided of course +Bliss had been asleep with the opium.…” +</p> + +<p> +Heath sat upright and squinted at Vance. +</p> + +<p> +“That trap was only a stall?” he asked indignantly. +</p> + +<p> +“Nothing else, Sergeant. It was set up after the murder, so that even +if Salveter had had an alibi, he still could have been guilty. +Furthermore, the possibility of Kyle’s having been killed by an absent +person was another point in favor of Bliss. Why should Bliss have made +a death-trap when he had every opportunity to kill Kyle by direct +contact? The trap was merely another counter-clew.” +</p> + +<p> +“But the pencil used in the trap,” interposed Markham. “It was not the +kind Salveter used.” +</p> + +<p> +“My dear Markham! Bliss used one of his own pencils for the ‘upright’ +in order to create another clew against himself. A man actually +planning a death-trap is not going to use his own pencil,—he would +use the pencil of the man he was trying to involve. The doctor +therefore used his own pencil—<i>in order to throw suspicion +elsewhere</i>. But the trap did not fool me. It was too fortuitous. A +murderer would not have taken such a chance. The falling statue might +not have fallen exactly on Kyle’s head. And another thing: a man +struck in that fashion is not likely to fall in the position we found +Kyle, with his head just beneath the place where the statue struck +him, and with his arms stretched out. When I made my experiment, and +the statue fell exactly where Kyle’s head had been, I realized how +unlikely it was that he had actually been killed by the statue +falling.” Vance’s eyes twinkled. “I did not raise the point at the +time, for I wanted you to believe in the death-trap.” +</p> + +<p> +“Right again!” Heath slapped his forehead dramatically with his palm. +“And I never thought of it! … Sure, I’ll forgive you, Mr. Vance!” +</p> + +<p> +“The truth is, Sergeant, I did everything I could to make you overlook +the inconsistency of it. And Mr. Markham didn’t see it either.<sup><a href="#n32b" id="n32a">[32]</a></sup> As +a matter of fact, Kyle was killed while he was looking into the +cabinet, by a blow from some one behind him. I have an idea, too, that +one of those heavy flint or porphyry maces was used. His body was +arranged in the position we found it, and the statue of Sakhmet was +then dropped on his skull, obliterating the evidence of the first +blow.” +</p> + +<p> +“But suppose,” objected Markham, “you hadn’t seen the loose ring on +the curtain?” +</p> + +<p> +“The trap was arranged so that we would discover it. If we had +overlooked it, Bliss would have called our attention to it.” +</p> + +<p> +“But the finger-prints——” began Heath, in a kind of daze. +</p> + +<p> +“They were purposely left on the statue. More evidence, d’ ye see, +against Bliss. But he had an alibi in reserve. His first explanation +was so simple and so specious:—he had moved Sakhmet because it wasn’t +quite straight. But the second explanation why there were no other +finger-prints on Sakhmet was to come later, after his arrest—to wit, +no one had actually wielded the statue: it was a death-trap set by +Salveter!” +</p> + +<p> +Vance made an open-handed gesture. +</p> + +<p> +“Bliss covered every clew against himself with a stronger clew +pointing to Salveter.… Regard, for instance, the evidence of the +footprints. Superficially these pointed to Bliss. But there was the +omnipresent counter-clew—namely: he was wearing bedroom slippers +yesterday morning, and only one tennis shoe was to be found in the +study. The other tennis shoe was in his room, <i>exactly where he said +he had left it the night before</i>. Bliss simply brought one shoe +down-stairs, made the footprints in the blood, and placed the shoe in +the waste-basket. He wanted us to find the prints and to discover the +shoe. And we did—that is, the Sergeant did. His answer to the +footprints, after his arrest, would merely have been that some one who +had access to his room had taken one tennis shoe down-stairs and made +the tracks to involve him.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham nodded. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes,” he said; “I’d have been inclined to exonerate him, especially +after the discovery of opium in his coffee cup.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, that opium! The perfect alibi! What jury would have convicted him +after the evidence of the opium in his coffee? They would have +regarded him as the victim of a plot. And the District Attorney’s +office would have come in for much severe criticism.… And how simple +the opium episode was! Bliss took the can from the cabinet, extracted +what he needed for the ruse, and placed the powder in the bottom of +his coffee cup.” +</p> + +<p> +“You didn’t think he had been narcotized?” +</p> + +<p> +“No. I knew he hadn’t. A narcotic contracts the pupils; and Bliss’s +were distended with excitement. I knew he was pretending, and that +made me suspect I’d find a drug in his coffee.” +</p> + +<p> +“But what about the can?” Heath put the question. “I never did get +that can business straight. You sent Hani——” +</p> + +<p> +“Now, Sergeant!” Vance spoke good-naturedly. “I knew where the can +was, and I merely wanted to ascertain how much Hani knew.” +</p> + +<p> +“But I see the Sergeant’s point,” Markham put in. “We don’t know that +the opium can was in Salveter’s room.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, don’t we, now?” Vance turned toward the hall. “Hani!” +</p> + +<p> +The Egyptian opened the sliding door. +</p> + +<p> +“I say;”—Vance looked straight into the man’s eyes—“I’m dashed +admirin’ of your deceptive attitude, but we could bear some facts for +a change.—Where did you find the opium tin?” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Effendi</i>, there is no longer any need for dissimulation. You are a +man of profound wisdom, and I trust you. The tin was hidden in Mr. +Salveter’s room.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thanks awfully.” Vance was almost brusque. “And now return to the +hall.” +</p> + +<p> +Hani went out and softly closed the door. +</p> + +<p> +“And by not going down to breakfast yesterday morning,” Vance +continued, “Bliss knew that his wife and Salveter would be in the +breakfast-room alone, and that Salveter might easily have put the +opium in the coffee.…” +</p> + +<p> +“But,” asked Markham, “if you knew Bliss put the opium in his own +coffee, why all the interest in the samovar?” +</p> + +<p> +“I had to be sure who it was Bliss’s plot was aimed at. He was trying +to make it appear that <i>he</i> was the victim of the plot; and since his +object was to involve some one else, I knew the real victim would have +had to have access to the coffee yesterday morning.” +</p> + +<p> +Heath nodded ponderously. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s easy enough. The old boy was pretending some one had fed him +knock-out drops, but if the bird he was aiming at couldn’t have fed +him the drops, his plot would have gone blooey.… But look here, Mr. +Vance;”—he suddenly remembered something—“what was the idea of the +doc’s trying to escape?” +</p> + +<p> +“It was a perfectly logical result of what had gone before,” Vance +explained. “After we had refused to arrest him, he began to worry. Y’ +see, he yearned to be arrested; and we disappointed him frightfully. +Sittin’ in his room, he got to planning. How could he make us re-order +his arrest and thus give him the chance to point out all the evidences +of Salveter’s heinous plot against him? He decided to attempt an +escape. That gesture, he figured, would surely revive suspicion +against him. So he simply went out, drew his money openly from the +bank, taxied to the Grand Central Station, asked loudly about trains +to Montreal, and then stood conspicuously by the gate waiting for the +train.… He knew that Guilfoyle was following him; for, had he really +intended making his escape, you may rest assured Guilfoyle would never +have traced him. You, Sergeant, accepted Bliss’s action at its face +value; and I was afraid that his silly disappearance would produce the +very result he intended—namely, his re-arrest. That was why I argued +against it so passionately.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance leaned back but did not relax. There was a rigid alertness in +his attitude. +</p> + +<p> +“And because you did not manacle him, Sergeant,” he continued, “he was +forced to take a further step. He had to build up a case against +Salveter. So he staged the drama with the dagger. He deliberately sent +Salveter to the study to get a memorandum-book in the desk—where the +dagger was kept.…” +</p> + +<p> +“And the sheath!” exclaimed Markham. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, quite. That was the real clew against Salveter. Having put the +sheath in Salveter’s room, Bliss suggested to us that we might find +the would-be assassin by locating the sheath. I knew where it was the +moment he so helpfully mentioned it; so I gave Hani a chance to lie +about it.…” +</p> + +<p> +“You mean Hani didn’t find the sheath in the hall?” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course not.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance again called Hani from the hall. +</p> + +<p> +“Where did you find the sheath of the royal dagger?” he asked. +</p> + +<p> +Hani answered without a moment’s hesitation. +</p> + +<p> +“In Mr. Salveter’s room, <i>effendi</i>—as you well know.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance nodded. +</p> + +<p> +“And by the by, Hani, has any one approached this door to-night?” +</p> + +<p> +“No, <i>effendi</i>. The doctor is still in his study.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance dismissed him with a gesture, and went on: +</p> + +<p> +“Y’ see, Markham, Bliss put the sheath in Salveter’s room, and then +threw the dagger into the headboard of his bed. He phoned me and, when +we arrived, told an elaborate but plausible tale of having been +assaulted by an <i>inconnu</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +“He was a damn good actor,” Heath commented. +</p> + +<p> +“Yes—in the main. But there was one psychological point he +overlooked. If he had actually been the victim of a murderous attack +he would not have gone down-stairs alone in the dark to phone me. He +would have first roused the house.”<sup><a href="#n33b" id="n33a">[33]</a></sup> +</p> + +<p> +“That’s reasonable.” Markham had become impatient. “But you said +something about the picture not being complete——” +</p> + +<p> +“The letter!” Vance sat up and threw away his cigarette. “That was the +missing factor. I couldn’t understand why the forged hieroglyphic +letter didn’t show up last night,—it was the perfect opportunity. But +it was nowhere in evidence; and that’s what troubled me.… However, +when I found Scarlett working in the museum, I understood. The doctor, +I’m convinced, intended to plant the forged letter—which he had +placed temporarily in the desk-table drawer—in Meryt-Amen’s room or +some place where we’d find it. But when he looked into the museum +through the study door he saw Scarlett at work at the desk-table. So +he let the letter go, reserving it for future use—in case we didn’t +arrest Salveter after the dagger episode. And when I deliberately +avoided the clews he had prepared against Salveter, I knew the letter +would appear very soon. I was afraid Scarlett might in some way block +Bliss’s scheme, so I warned him to keep away from the house. I don’t +know what more I could have done.” +</p> + +<p> +“Nor I.” Markham’s tone was consoling. “Scarlett should have followed +your advice.” +</p> + +<p> +“But he didn’t.” Vance sighed regretfully. +</p> + +<p> +“You think, then, that Scarlett suspected the truth?” +</p> + +<p> +“Undoubtedly. And he suspected it early in the game. But he wasn’t +sure enough to speak out. He was afraid he might be doing the doctor +an injustice; and, being an English gentleman, he kept silent. My +belief is, he got to worrying about the situation and finally went to +Bliss——” +</p> + +<p> +“But something must have convinced him.” +</p> + +<p> +“The dagger, Markham. Bliss made a grave error in that regard. +Scarlett and Bliss were the only two persons who knew about that +smuggled weapon. And when I showed it to Scarlett and informed him it +had been used in an attempt on Bliss’s life, he knew pretty +conclusively that Bliss had concocted the whole tale.” +</p> + +<p> +“And he came here to-night to confront Bliss… ?” +</p> + +<p> +“Exactly. He realized that Bliss was trying to involve Salveter; and +he wanted to let Bliss know that his monstrous scheme was seen +through. He came here to protect an innocent man—despite the fact +that Salveter was his rival, as it were, for the affections of +Meryt-Amen. That would be like Scarlett.…” Vance looked sad. “When I +sent Salveter to Boston I believed I had eliminated every possibility +of danger. But Scarlett felt he had to take matters in his own hands. +His action was fine, but ill-advised. The whole trouble was, it gave +Bliss the opportunity he’d been waiting for. When he couldn’t get the +forged letter from the museum last night, and when we declined his +invitation to find the sheath in Salveter’s room, it was necessary for +him to play his ace—the forged letter.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes. I see that. But just where did Scarlett fit?” +</p> + +<p> +“When Scarlett came here to-night Bliss no doubt listened to his +accusation diplomatically, and then on some pretext or other got him +into the museum. When Scarlett was off guard Bliss struck him on the +head—probably with one of those maces in the end cabinet—and put him +in the sarcophagus. It was a simple matter for him to get the jack +from his car, which he keeps parked in the street outside,—you recall +that he offered to drive Salveter to the station.…” +</p> + +<p> +“But the letter?” +</p> + +<p> +“Can’t you see how everything fitted? The attack on Scarlett took +place between eight and eight-thirty. Salveter was probably up-stairs +bidding adieu to Mrs. Bliss. At any rate, he was in the house, and +therefore could have been Scarlett’s murderer. In order to make it +appear that Salveter <i>was actually the murderer of Scarlett</i> Bliss +crumpled up the forged telltale letter and stuck it in Scarlett’s +pocket. He wanted to make it appear that Scarlett had come to the +house to-night to confront Salveter, had mentioned the letter he’d +found in the desk-table drawer, and had been killed by Salveter.” +</p> + +<p> +“But why wouldn’t Salveter have taken the letter?” +</p> + +<p> +“The assumption would have been that Salveter didn’t know that +Scarlett had the letter in his pocket.” +</p> + +<p> +“What I want to know,” put in Heath, “is how Bliss found out about +Salveter’s original letter.” +</p> + +<p> +“That point is easily explained, Sergeant.” Vance drew out his +cigarette-case. “Salveter undoubtedly returned to the museum yesterday +morning, as he told us, and was working on his letter when Kyle +entered. He then put the letter in the table-drawer, and went to the +Metropolitan Museum on his errand. Bliss, who was probably watching +him through a crack in the study door, saw him put the paper away, and +later took it out to see what it was. Being an indiscreet letter to +Meryt-Amen, it gave Bliss an idea. He took it to his study and rewrote +it, making it directly incriminating; and then tore up the original. +When I learned that the letter had disappeared I was worried, for I +suspected that Bliss had taken it. And when I saw it had been +destroyed and thrown away, I was convinced we would find another +letter. But since I had the original, I believed that the forged +letter would, when it appeared, give us evidence against Bliss.” +</p> + +<p> +“So that’s why you were so interested in those three words?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, Sergeant. I hardly thought Bliss would use <i>tem</i> and <i>was</i> and +<i>ankh</i> in rewriting the letter, for he couldn’t have known that +Salveter had told us about the letter and specifically mentioned these +three words. And not one of the three words was in the forgery.” +</p> + +<p> +“But a handwriting expert——” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I say, Sergeant! Don’t be so <i>naïf</i>. A handwriting expert is a +romantic scientist even when the writing is English script and +familiar to him. And all his rules are based on chirographic +idiosyncrasies. No art expert can tell with surety who drew a +picture—and Egyptian writing is mostly pictures. Forged Michelangelo +drawings, for instance, are being sold by clever dealers constantly. +The only approach in such matters is an æsthetic one—and there is no +æsthetics in Egyptian hieroglyphs.” +</p> + +<p> +Heath made a wry face. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, if the forged letter couldn’t be admitted as evidence, what was +the doctor’s idea?” +</p> + +<p> +“Don’t you see, Sergeant, that even if the letter couldn’t be +absolutely identified with Salveter, it would have made every one +believe that Salveter was guilty and had escaped a conviction on a +legal technicality. Certainly Meryt-Amen would have believed that +Salveter wrote the letter; and that was what Bliss wanted.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance turned to Markham. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s a legal point which really doesn’t matter. Salveter might not +have been convicted; but Bliss’s plot would none the less have +succeeded. With Kyle dead, Bliss would have had access to one-half of +Kyle’s fortune—in his wife’s name, to be sure—and Meryt-Amen would +have repudiated Salveter. Thus Bliss would have won every trick. And +even legally Salveter might have been convicted had it not been for +Hani’s removal of two direct clews from Salveter’s room—the opium can +and the sheath. Furthermore, there was the letter in Scarlett’s +pocket.” +</p> + +<p> +“But, Vance, how would the letter have been found?” Markham asked. “If +you had not suspected the plot and looked for Scarlett’s body, it +might have remained in the sarcophagus almost indefinitely.” +</p> + +<p> +“No.” Vance shook his head. “Scarlett was to have remained in the +sarcophagus only for a couple of days. When it was discovered +to-morrow that he was missing Bliss would probably have found the body +for us, along with the letter.” +</p> + +<p> +He looked questioningly at Markham. +</p> + +<p> +“How are we going to connect Bliss with the crime, since Salveter was +in the house at the time of the attack?” +</p> + +<p> +“If Scarlett should get well——” +</p> + +<p> +“If! … Just so. But suppose he shouldn’t—and the chances are against +him. Then what? Scarlett at most could only testify that Bliss had +made an abortive and unsuccessful attack on him. True, you might +convict him for felonious assault, but it would leave Kyle’s murder +still unsolved. And if Bliss said that Scarlett attacked him and that +he struck Scarlett in self-defense, you’d have a difficult time +convicting him even for assault.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham rose and walked up and down the room. Then Heath asked a +question. +</p> + +<p> +“How does this Ali Baba fit into the picture, Mr. Vance?” +</p> + +<p> +“Hani knew from the first what had happened; and he was shrewd enough +to see the plot that Bliss had built up about Salveter. He loved +Salveter and Meryt-Amen, and he wanted them to be happy. What could he +do except lend his every energy to protecting them? And he has +certainly done this, Sergeant. Egyptians are not like Occidentals. It +was against his nature to come out frankly and tell us what he +suspected. Hani played a clever game—the only game he could have +played. He never believed in the vengeance of Sakhmet. He used his +superstitious logomachy to cover up the truth. He fought with words +for Salveter’s safety.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham halted in front of Vance. +</p> + +<p> +“The thing is incredible! I have never known a murderer like Bliss.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, don’t give him too much credit.” Vance lighted the cigarette he +had been holding for the past five minutes. “He frightfully overdid +the clews: he made them too glaring. Therein lay his weakness.” +</p> + +<p> +“Still,” said Markham, “if you hadn’t come into the case I’d have +brought a murder charge against him.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you would have played into his hands. Because I didn’t want you +to, I appeared to argue against his guilt.” +</p> + +<p> +“A palimpsest!” Markham commented after a pause. +</p> + +<p> +Vance took a deep draw on his cigarette. +</p> + +<p> +“Exactly. <i>Palimpsestos</i>—‘again rub smooth.’ First came the true +story of the crime, carefully indicated. Then it was erased, and the +story of the murder, with Salveter as the villain, was written over +it. This, too, was erased, and the original story—in grotesque +outline and filled with inconsistencies and loopholes—was again +written. We were supposed to read the third version, become sceptical +about it, and find the evidences of Salveter’s guilt between the +lines. My task was to push through to the first and original +version—the twice written-over truth.” +</p> + +<p> +“And you did it, Mr. Vance!” Heath had risen and gone toward the door. +“The doc is in the study, Chief. I’ll take him to Headquarters +myself.” +</p> + + +<h3 id="ch22"> +CHAPTER XXII.<br> +<span class="chap_sub">THE JUDGMENT OF ANÛBIS</span> +</h3> + +<p class="center"> +(<i>Saturday, July 14; 11 p.m.</i>) +</p> + +<p> +“I say, Sergeant! Don’t be rash.” Despite the drawling quality of +Vance’s tone Heath halted abruptly. “If I were you I’d take a bit of +legal advice from Mr. Markham before arresting the doctor.” +</p> + +<p> +“Legal advice be damned!” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, quite. In principle I agree with you. But there’s no need to be +temerarious about these little matters. Caution is always good.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham, who was standing beside Vance, lifted his head. +</p> + +<p> +“Sit down, Sergeant,” he ordered. “We can’t arrest a man on theory.” +He walked to the fireplace and back. “This thing has to be thought +out. There’s no evidence against Bliss. We couldn’t hold him an hour +if a clever lawyer got busy on the case.” +</p> + +<p> +“And Bliss knows it,” said Vance. +</p> + +<p> +“But he killed Kyle!” Heath expostulated. +</p> + +<p> +“Granted.” Markham sat down beside the table and rested his chin in +his hands. “But I’ve nothing tangible to present to a grand jury. And, +as Mr. Vance says, even if Scarlett should recover I’d have only an +assault charge against Bliss.” +</p> + +<p> +“What wallops me, sir,” moaned Heath, “is how a guy can commit murder +almost before our very eyes, and get away with it. It ain’t +reasonable.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, but there’s little that’s reasonable in this fantastic and +ironical world, Sergeant,” remarked Vance. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, anyhow,” returned Heath, “I’d arrest that bird in a minute and +take my chances at making the charge stick.” +</p> + +<p> +“I feel the same way,” Markham said. “But no matter how convinced we +are of the truth, we must be able to produce conclusive evidence. And +this fiend has covered all the evidence so cleverly that any jury in +the country would acquit him, even if we could hold him for +trial—which is highly dubious.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance sighed and stood up. +</p> + +<p> +“The law!” He spoke with unusual fervor. “And the rooms in which this +law is put on public exhibition are called courts of justice. +<i>Justice!</i>—oh, my precious aunt! <i>Summum jus, summa injuria.</i> How can +there be justice, or even intelligence, in echolalia? … Here we three +are—a District Attorney; a Sergeant of the Homicide Bureau; and a +lover of Brahms’ B-flat piano concerto—with a known murderer within +fifty feet of us; and we’re helpless! Why? Because this elaborate +invention of imbeciles, called the law, has failed to provide for the +extermination of a dangerous and despicable criminal, who not only +murdered his benefactor in cold blood, but attempted to kill another +decent man, and then endeavored to saddle an innocent third man with +both crimes so that he could continue digging up ancient and venerated +corpses! … No wonder Hani detests him. At heart Bliss is a ghoul; and +Hani is an honorable and intelligent man.” +</p> + +<p> +“I admit the law is imperfect,” Markham interrupted tartly. “But your +dissertation is hardly helpful. We’re confronted with a terrible +problem, and a way must be found to handle it.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance still stood before the table, his eyes fixed on the door. +</p> + +<p> +“But your law will never solve it,” he said. “You can’t convict Bliss; +you don’t even dare arrest him. He could make you the laughing-stock +of the country if you tried it. And furthermore, he’d become a sort of +persecuted hero who had been hounded by an incompetent and befuddled +police, who had unjustly pounced on him in a moment of groggy +desperation in order to save their more or less classic features.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance took a deep draw on his cigarette. +</p> + +<p> +“Markham old dear, I’m inclined to think the gods of ancient Egypt +were more intelligent than Solon, Justinian, and all the other +law-givers combined. Hani was spoofing about the vengeance of Sakhmet; +but, after all, that solar-disked lady would be just as effective as +your silly statutes. Mythological ideas are largely nonsense; but are +they more nonsensical than the absurdities of present-day law? …” +</p> + +<p> +“For God’s sake, be still.” Markham was irritable. +</p> + +<p> +Vance looked at him in troubled concern. +</p> + +<p> +“Your hands are tied by the technicalities of a legalistic system; +and, as a result, a creature like Bliss is to be turned loose on the +world. Moreover, a harmless chap like Salveter is to be put under +suspicion and ruined. Also, Meryt-Amen—a courageous lady——” +</p> + +<p> +“I realize all that.” Markham raised himself, an agonized look on his +face. “And yet, Vance, there’s not one piece of convincing evidence +against Bliss.” +</p> + +<p> +“Most distressin’. Your only hope seems to be that the eminent doctor +will meet with a sudden and fatal accident. Such things do happen, +don’t y’ know.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance smoked for a moment. +</p> + +<p> +“If only Hani’s gods had the supernatural power attributed to them!” +he sighed. “How deuced simple! And really, Anûbis hasn’t shown up at +all well in this affair. He’s been excruciatingly lazy. As the god of +the underworld——” +</p> + +<p> +“That’s enough!” Markham rose. “Have a little sense of propriety. +Being an æsthete without responsibilities is no doubt delightful, but +the world’s work must go on.…” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, by all means.” Vance seemed wholly indifferent to the other’s +outburst. “I say, you might draw up a new law altering the existing +rules of evidence, and present it to the legislature. The only +difficulty would be that, by the time those intellectual Sandows got +through debating and appointing committees, you and I and the Sergeant +and Bliss would have passed forever down the dim corridors of time.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham slowly turned toward Vance. His eyes were mere slits. +</p> + +<p> +“What’s behind this childish garrulity?” he demanded. “You’ve got +something on your mind.” +</p> + +<p> +Vance seated himself on the edge of the table and, putting out his +cigarette, thrust his hands deep into his pockets. +</p> + +<p> +“Markham,” he said, with serious deliberation, “you know, as well as +I, that Bliss is outside the law, and that there’s no human way to +convict him. The only means by which he can be brought to book is +trickery.” +</p> + +<p> +“Trickery?” Markham was momentarily indignant. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, nothing reprehensible,” Vance answered lightly, taking out +another cigarette. “Consider, Markham.…” And he launched out into a +detailed recapitulation of the case. I could not understand the object +of his wordy repetitions, for they seemed to have little bearing on +the crucial point at issue. And Markham, also, was puzzled. Several +times he attempted to interrupt, but Vance held up his hand +imperatively and continued with his résumé. +</p> + +<p> +After ten minutes Markham refused to be silenced. +</p> + +<p> +“Come to the point, Vance,” he said somewhat angrily. “You’ve gone +over all this before. Have you—or haven’t you—any suggestion?” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, I have a suggestion.” Vance spoke earnestly. “It’s a +psychological experiment; and there is a chance that it’ll prove +effective. I believe that if Bliss were confronted suddenly with what +we know, and if a little forceful chicanery were used on him, he might +be surprised into an admission that would give you a hold on him. He +doesn’t know we found Scarlett in the sarcophagus, and we might +pretend that we have got an incriminatin’ statement from the poor +chap. We might go so far as to tell him that Mrs. Bliss is thoroughly +convinced of the truth; for if he believes that his plot has failed +and that there is no hope of his continuing his excavations, he may +even confess everything. Bliss is a colossal egoist, and, if cornered, +might blurt out the truth and boast of his cleverness. And you must +admit that your one chance of shipping the old codger to the +executioner lies in a confession.” +</p> + +<p> +“Chief, couldn’t we arrest the guy on the evidence he planted against +himself?” Heath asked irritably. “There was that scarab pin, and the +bloody footmarks and the finger-prints——” +</p> + +<p> +“No, no, Sergeant.” Markham was impatient. “He has covered himself at +every point. And the moment we arrested him he’d turn on Salveter. All +we’d achieve would be the ruination of an innocent man and the +unhappiness of Mrs. Bliss.” +</p> + +<p> +Heath capitulated. +</p> + +<p> +“Yeah, I can see that,” he said sourly, after a moment. “But this +situation slays me. I’ve known some clever crooks in my day; but this +bird Bliss has ’em all beat.… Why not take Mr. Vance’s suggestion?” +</p> + +<p> +Markham halted in his nervous pacing, and set his jaw. +</p> + +<p> +“I guess we’ll have to.” He fixed his gaze on Vance. “But don’t handle +him with silk gloves.” +</p> + +<p> +“Really, now, I never wear ’em. Chamois, yes—on certain occasions. +And in winter I’m partial to pig-skin and reindeer. But silk! Oh, my +word! …” +</p> + +<p> +He went to the folding door and threw it open. Hani stood just outside +in the hall, with folded arms, a silent, watchful sentinel. +</p> + +<p> +“Has the doctor left the study?” Vance asked. +</p> + +<p> +“No, <i>effendi</i>.” Hani’s eyes looked straight ahead. +</p> + +<p> +“Good!” Vance started down the hall. “Come, Markham. Let’s see what a +bit of extra-legal persuasion will do.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham and Heath and I followed him. He did not knock on the study +door, but threw it open unceremoniously. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, I say! Something’s amiss.” Vance’s comment came simultaneously +with our realization that the study was empty. “Dashed queer.” He went +to the steel door leading to the spiral stairs, and opened it. “No +doubt the doctor is communin’ with his treasures.” He passed through +the door and descended the steps, the rest of us trailing along. +</p> + +<p> +Vance drew up at the foot of the stairs and put his hand to his +forehead. +</p> + +<p> +“We’ll never interview Bliss again in this world,” he said in a low +voice. +</p> + +<p> +There was no need for him to explain. In the corner opposite, in +almost the exact place where we had found Kyle’s body the preceding +day, Bliss lay sprawled face downward in a pool of blood. Across the +back of his crushed skull stretched the life-sized statue of Anûbis. +The heavy figure of the underworld god had apparently fallen on him as +he leaned over his precious items in the cabinet before which he had +murdered Kyle. The coincidence was so staggering that none of us was +able to speak for several moments. We stood, in a kind of paralyzed +awe, looking down on the body of the great Egyptologist. +</p> + +<p> +Markham was the first to break the silence. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s incredible!” His voice was strained and unnatural. “There’s a +divine retribution in this.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, doubtless.” Vance moved to the feet of the statue and bent over. +“However, I don’t go in for mysticism myself. I’m an empiricist—same +like Weininger said the English are.”<sup><a href="#n34b" id="n34a">[34]</a></sup> He adjusted his monocle. +“Ah! … Sorry to disappoint you, and all that. But there’s nothing +supernatural about the demise of the doctor. Behold, Markham, the +broken ankles of Anûbis.… The situation is quite obvious. While the +doctor was leaning over his treasures, he jarred the statue in some +way, and it toppled over on him.” +</p> + +<p> +We all bent forward. The heavy base of the statue of Anûbis stood +where it had been when we first saw it; but the figure, from the +ankles up, had broken off. +</p> + +<p> +“You see,” Vance was saying, pointing to the base, “the ankles are +very slender, and the statue is made of limestone—a rather fragile +substance. The ankles no doubt were cracked in shipping, and the +tremendous weight of the body weakened the flaw.” +</p> + +<p> +Heath inspected the statue closely. +</p> + +<p> +“That’s what happened, all right,” he remarked, straightening up.… “I +ain’t had many breaks in my life, Chief,” he added to Markham with +feigned jauntiness; “but I never want a better one than this. Mr. +Vance mighta lured the doc into a confession—and he mighta failed. +Now we got nothing to worry about.” +</p> + +<p> +“Quite true.” Markham nodded vaguely. He was still under the influence +of the astounding change in the situation. “I’m leaving you in charge, +Sergeant. You’d better call the local ambulance and get the Medical +Examiner. Phone me at home as soon as the routine work is finished. +I’ll take care of the reporters in the morning.… The case is on the +shelf, thank God!” +</p> + +<p> +He stood for some time, his eyes fixed on the body. He looked almost +haggard, but I knew a great weight had been taken off of his mind by +Bliss’s unexpected death. +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll attend to everything, sir,” Heath assured him. “But what about +breaking the news to Mrs. Bliss?” +</p> + +<p> +“Hani will do that,” said Vance. He put his hand on Markham’s arm. +“Come along, old friend. You need sleep.… Let’s stagger round to my +humble abode, and I’ll give you a brandy-and-soda. I still have some +<i>Napoléon</i>-’48 left.” +</p> + +<p> +“Thanks.” Markham drew a deep sigh. +</p> + +<p> +As we emerged into the front hall Vance beckoned to Hani. +</p> + +<p> +“Very touchin’, but your beloved employer has gone to Amentet to join +the shades of the Pharaohs.” +</p> + +<p> +“He is dead?” The Egyptian lifted his eyebrows slightly. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, quite, Hani. Anûbis fell on him as he leaned over the end +cabinet. A most effective death. But there was a certain justice in +it. Doctor Bliss was guilty of Mr. Kyle’s murder.” +</p> + +<p> +“You and I knew that all along, <i>effendi</i>.” The man smiled wistfully +at Vance. “But I fear that the doctor’s death may have been my fault. +When I unpacked the statue of Anûbis and set it in the corner, I +noticed that the ankles were cracked. I did not tell the doctor, for I +was afraid he might accuse me of having been careless, or of having +deliberately injured his treasure.” +</p> + +<p> +“No one is going to blame you for Doctor Bliss’s death,” Vance said +casually. “We’re leaving you to inform Mrs. Bliss of the tragedy. And +Mr. Salveter will be returning early to-morrow morning.… <i>Es-salâmu +alei-kum.</i>” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Ma es-salâm, effendi.</i>” +</p> + +<p> +Vance and Markham and I passed out into the heavy night air. +</p> + +<p> +“Let’s walk,” Vance said. “It’s only a little over a mile to my +apartment, and I feel the need of exercise.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham fell in with the suggestion, and we strolled toward Fifth +Avenue in silence. When we had crossed Madison Square and passed the +Stuyvesant Club, Markham spoke. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s almost unbelievable, Vance. It’s the sort of thing that makes +one superstitious. Here we were, confronted by an insoluble problem. +We knew Bliss was guilty, and yet there was no way to reach him. And +while we were debating the case he stepped into the museum and was +accidentally killed by a falling statue on practically the same spot +where he murdered Kyle.… Damn it! Such things don’t happen in the +orderly course of the world’s events. And what makes it even more +fantastic is that you suggested that he might meet with an accident.” +</p> + +<p> +“Yes, yes. Interestin’ coincidence.” Vance seemed disinclined to +discuss the matter. +</p> + +<p> +“And that Egyptian,” Markham rumbled on. “He wasn’t in the least +astonished when you informed him of Bliss’s death. He acted almost as +if he expected some such news——” +</p> + +<p> +He suddenly drew up short. Vance and I stopped, too, and looked at +him. His eyes were blazing. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Hani killed Bliss!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +Vance sighed and shrugged. +</p> + +<p> +“Of course he did, Markham. My word! I thought you understood the +situation.” +</p> + +<p> +“Understood?” Markham was spluttering. “What do you mean?” +</p> + +<p> +“It was all so obvious, don’t y’ know,” Vance said mildly. “I +realized, just as you did, that there was no chance of convicting +Bliss; so I suggested to Hani how he could terminate the whole silly +affair——” +</p> + +<p> +“You suggested to Hani?” +</p> + +<p> +“During our conversation in the drawing-room. Really, Markham old +dear, I’m not in the habit of indulgin’ in weird conversations about +mythology unless I have a reason. I simply let Hani know there was no +legal way of bringing Bliss to justice, and intimated how he could +overcome the difficulty and incidentally save you from a most +embarrassin’ predicament.…” +</p> + +<p> +“But Hani was in the hall, with the door closed.” Markham’s +indignation was rising. +</p> + +<p> +“Quite so. I told him to stand outside the door. I knew very well he’d +listen to us.…” +</p> + +<p> +“You deliberately——” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, most deliberately.” Vance spread his hands in a gesture of +surrender. “While I babbled to you and appeared foolish no doubt, I +was really talking to Hani. Of course, I didn’t know if he would grasp +the opportunity or not. But he did. He equipped himself with a mace +from the museum—I do hope it was the same mace that Bliss used on +Kyle—and struck Bliss over the head. Then he dragged the body down +the spiral stairs and laid it at the feet of Anûbis. With the mace he +broke the statue’s sandstone ankles, and dropped the figure over +Bliss’s skull. Very simple.” +</p> + +<p> +“And all that rambling chatter of yours in the drawing-room——” +</p> + +<p> +“Was merely to keep you and Heath away in case Hani had decided to +act.” +</p> + +<p> +Markham’s eyes narrowed. +</p> + +<p> +“You can’t get away with that sort of thing, Vance. I’ll send Hani up +for murder. There’ll be finger-prints——” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, no, there won’t, Markham. Didn’t you notice the gloves on the +hat-rack? Hani is no fool. He put on the gloves before he went to the +study. You’d have a harder time convicting him than you’d have had +convicting Bliss. Personally, I rather admire Hani. Stout fella!” +</p> + +<p> +For a time Markham was too angry to speak. Finally, however, he gave +voice to an ejaculation. +</p> + +<p> +“It’s outrageous!” +</p> + +<p> +“Of course it is,” Vance agreed amiably. “So was the murder of Kyle.” +He lighted a cigarette and puffed on it cheerfully. “The trouble with +you lawyers is, you’re jealous and blood-thirsty. You wanted to send +Bliss to the electric chair yourself, and couldn’t; and Hani +simplified everything for you. As I see it, you’re merely disappointed +because some one else took Bliss’s life before you could get round to +it.… Really, y’ know, Markham, you’re frightfully selfish.” +</p> + + +<p class="mt1"> +I feel that a short postscript will not be amiss. Markham had no +difficulty, as you will no doubt remember, in convincing the press +that Bliss had been guilty of the murder of Benjamin H. Kyle, and that +his tragic “accidental” death had in it much of what is commonly +called divine justice. +</p> + +<p> +Scarlett, contrary to the doctor’s prediction, recovered; but it was +many weeks before he could talk rationally. Vance and I visited him in +the hospital late in August, and he corroborated Vance’s theory about +what had happened on that fatal night in the museum. Scarlett went to +England early in September,—his father had died, leaving him an +involved estate in Bedfordshire. +</p> + +<p> +Mrs. Bliss and Salveter were married in Nice late the following +spring; and the excavations of Intef’s tomb, I see from the bulletins +of the Archæological Institute, are continuing. Salveter is in charge +of the work, and I am rather happy to note that Scarlett is the +technical expert of the expedition. +</p> + +<p> +Hani, according to a recent letter from Salveter to Vance, has become +reconciled to the “desecration of the tombs of his ancestors.” He is +still with Meryt-Amen and Salveter, and I’m inclined to think that his +personal love for these two young people is stronger than his national +prejudices. +</p> + +<p class="center mt1"> +[The End] +</p> + + +<h2 id="endnotes"> +ENDNOTES +</h2> + +<p id="n01b"> +<sup>[1]</sup> Doctor Mindrum W.C. Bliss, M.A., A.O.S.S., F.S.A., F.R.S., Hon. +Mem. R.A.S., was the author of “The Stele of Intefoe at Koptos”; a +“History of Egypt during the Hyksos Invasion”; “The Seventeenth +Dynasty”; and a monograph on the Amen-hotpe III Colossi. +(<a href="#n01a">return</a>) +</p> + +<p id="n02b"> +<sup>[2]</sup> According to the Bliss-Weigall chronology the period between the +death of Sebk-nefru-Rê and the overthrow of the Shepherd Kings at +Memphis was from 1898 to 1577 B.C.—to wit: 321 years—as against the +1800 years claimed by the upholders of the longer chronology. This +short chronology is even shorter according to Breasted and the German +school. Breasted and Meyer dated the same period as from 1788 to 1580. +These 208 years, by the way, Vance considered too short for the +observable cultural changes. +(<a href="#n02a">return</a>) +</p> + +<p id="n03b"> +<sup>[3]</sup> As legal adviser, monetary steward and constant companion of Philo +Vance, I kept a complete record of the principal criminal cases in +which he participated during Markham’s incumbency. Four of these cases +I have already recorded in book form—“The Benson Murder Case” +(Scribners, 1926); “The ‘Canary’ Murder Case” (Scribners, 1927); “The +Greene Murder Case” (Scribners, 1928); and “The Bishop Murder Case” +(Scribners, 1929). +(<a href="#n03a">return</a>) +</p> + +<p id="n04b"> +<sup>[4]</sup> Sergeant Ernest Heath, of the Homicide Bureau, had worked with +Markham on most of his important cases. He was an honest, capable, but +uninspired police officer, who, after the Benson and the “Canary” +murder cases, had come to respect Vance highly. Vance admired the +Sergeant; and the two—despite their fundamental differences in +outlook and training—collaborated with admirable smoothness. +(<a href="#n04a">return</a>) +</p> + +<p id="n05b"> +<sup>[5]</sup> Kha-ef-Rê was the originator of the great Sphinx, and also of one +of the three great Gîzeh pyramids—<i>Wer Kha-ef-Rê</i> (Kha-ef-Rê is +mighty), now known as the Second Pyramid. +(<a href="#n05a">return</a>) +</p> + +<p id="n06b"> +<sup>[6]</sup> Popularly, and incorrectly, called the Memnon Colossi. +(<a href="#n06a">return</a>) +</p> + +<p id="n07b"> +<sup>[7]</sup> Captain Dubois was then the finger-print expert of the New York +Police Department; and Doctor Emanuel Doremus was the Medical +Examiner. +(<a href="#n07a">return</a>) +</p> + +<p id="n08b"> +<sup>[8]</sup> The daughter of this particular Pharaoh—Nefra—incidentally is +the titular heroine of H. Rider Haggard’s romance, “Queen of the +Dawn.” Haggard, following the chronology of H.R. Hall, placed Intef in +the Fourteenth Dynasty instead of the Seventeenth, making him a +contemporary of the great Hyksos Pharaoh, Apopi, whose son Khyan—the +hero of the book—marries Nefra. The researches of Bliss and Weigall +seem to have demonstrated that this relationship is an anachronism. +(<a href="#n08a">return</a>) +</p> + +<p id="n09b"> +<sup>[9]</sup> The ancient Egyptian name of Heracleopolis. +(<a href="#n09a">return</a>) +</p> + +<p id="n10b"> +<sup>[10]</sup> This unusual name, I learned later, was the result of his +father’s interest in Egyptian mythology while in Maspero’s service. +(<a href="#n10a">return</a>) +</p> + +<p id="n11b"> +<sup>[11]</sup> I learned from Vance that Doctor Bliss had read, in the British +Museum, the Abbott Papyrus of the Twentieth Dynasty, which reported +the inspection of this and other tombs. The report stated that, in +early times, Intef V’s tomb had been entered but not robbed: the +raiders had evidently been unable to penetrate to the actual grave +chamber. Bliss, therefore, had concluded that the mummy of Intef would +still be found in the original tomb. An old native named Hasan had +showed him where two obelisks had stood in front of the pyramid of +Intef (Intef-o); and through this information he had succeeded in +locating the pyramid, and had excavated at that point. +(<a href="#n11a">return</a>) +</p> + +<p id="n12b"> +<sup>[12]</sup> This colored portrait (with the Queen’s name spelled Nefertiti) +appears in “Kings and Queens of Ancient Egypt” (Charles Scribner’s +Sons). +(<a href="#n12a">return</a>) +</p> + +<p id="n13b"> +<sup>[13]</sup> I learned subsequently from Scarlett that Mrs. Bliss’s mother had +been a Coptic lady of noble descent who traced her lineage from the +last Saïte Pharaohs, and who, despite her Christian faith, had retained +her traditional veneration for the native gods of her country. Her only +child, Meryt-Amen (“Beloved of Amûn”), had been named in honor of the +great Ramses II, whose full title as Son of the Sun-God was Ra-mosê-su +Mery-Amûn. (The more correct English spelling of Mrs. Bliss’s name +would have been Meryet-Amûn, but the form chosen was no doubt based on +the transliterations of Flinders Petrie, Maspero, and Abercrombie.) +Meryet-Amûn was not an uncommon name among the queens and princesses +of ancient Egypt. Three queens of that name have already been +found—one (of the family of Ah-mosè I) whose mummy is in the Cairo +Museum; another (of the family of Ramses II) whose tomb and sarcophagus +are in the Valley of the Queens; and a third, whose burial chamber and +mummy were recently found by the Egyptian Expedition of the +Metropolitan Museum of Art on the hillside near the temple of Deir el +Bahri at Thebes. This last Queen Meryet-Amûn was the daughter of +Thut-mosè III and Meryet-Rê, and the wife of Amen-hotpe II. The story +of the finding of her tomb is told in Section II of the Bulletin of +the Metropolitan Museum of Art for November, 1929. +(<a href="#n13a">return</a>) +</p> + +<p id="n14b"> +<sup>[14]</sup> I am not quite sure why Vance added this parenthetical phrase, +unless it was because the word <i>simoon</i> comes from the Arabic <i>samma</i> +(meaning <i>to be poisoned</i>), and he thought that Hani would better +recognize the word in its correct etymological form. +(<a href="#n14a">return</a>) +</p> + +<p id="n15b"> +<sup>[15]</sup> The irrigation to which Scarlett referred was the system that +resulted in the Aswân Dam, the Asyût Weir, and the Esneh Barrage. +(<a href="#n15a">return</a>) +</p> + +<p id="n16b"> +<sup>[16]</sup> Sir E.A. Wallis Budge defines <i>ka</i> (or, more correctly, <i>ku</i>) +both as “the double of a man” and “a divine double.” Breasted, +explaining the <i>ka</i>, says it was the “vital force” which was supposed +to animate the human body and also to accompany it into the next world. +G. Elliot Smith calls the <i>ka</i> “one of the twin souls of the dead.” +(The other soul, <i>ba</i>, became deified in identification with Osiris.) +<i>Ka</i> was the spirit of a mortal person, which remained in the tomb +after death; and if the tomb were violated or destroyed, the <i>ka</i> had +no resting-place. Our own word “soul” is not quite an accurate +rendition of <i>ka</i>, but is perhaps as near as we can come to it in +English. The German word <i>Doppelgänger</i>, however, is an almost exact +translation. +(<a href="#n16a">return</a>) +</p> + +<p id="n17b"> +<sup>[17]</sup> An old Arabic proverb meaning: “The only answer to a fool is +silence.” +(<a href="#n17a">return</a>) +</p> + +<p id="n18b"> +<sup>[18]</sup> Guilfoyle, I recalled, was the detective of the Homicide Bureau +who was set to watch Tony Skeel in the “Canary” murder case, and who +reported on the all-night light at the Drukker house in the Bishop +murder case. +(<a href="#n18a">return</a>) +</p> + +<p id="n19b"> +<sup>[19]</sup> The prism referred to by Salveter was the terra-cotta one acquired +by the Oriental Institute of the University of Chicago during its +reconnoitering expedition of 1919-20. The document was a variant +duplicate of the Taylor prism in the British Museum, written about two +years earlier under another eponym. +(<a href="#n19a">return</a>) +</p> + +<p id="n20b"> +<sup>[20]</sup> Vance was here indulging in hyperbole, and believed it no more +than John Dennis believed that “a man who could make so vile a pun +would not scruple to pick a pocket.” Vance knew several Egyptologists +and respected them highly. Among them were Doctor Ludlow Bull and +Doctor Henry A. Carey of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, who had once +generously assisted him in his work on the Menander fragments. +(<a href="#n20a">return</a>) +</p> + +<p id="n21b"> +<sup>[21]</sup> Chief Inspector O’Brien was at that time in charge of the entire +Police Department of the City of New York. +(<a href="#n21a">return</a>) +</p> + +<p id="n22b"> +<sup>[22]</sup> The Sun Cholera Mixture for dysentery (a recipe of Doctor G.W. +Busteed) was so named because its formula had been published by the +New York <i>Sun</i> during the cholera excitement in New York in June, 1849. +It was admitted to the first edition of the National Formulary in +1883. Its constituents were tincture of capsicum, tincture of rhubarb, +spirits of camphor, essence of peppermint, and opium. +(<a href="#n22a">return</a>) +</p> + +<p id="n23b"> +<sup>[23]</sup> Sir E.A. Wallis Budge was for many years Keeper of the Egyptian +and Assyrian Antiquities in the British Museum. +(<a href="#n23a">return</a>) +</p> + +<p id="n24b"> +<sup>[24]</sup> Swacker, a bright, energetic youth, was Markham’s secretary. +(<a href="#n24a">return</a>) +</p> + +<p id="n25b"> +<sup>[25]</sup> A similar dagger was found on the royal mummy in the tomb of +Tut-ankh-Amûn by the late Earl of Carnarvon and Howard Carter, and +is now in the Cairo Museum. +(<a href="#n25a">return</a>) +</p> + +<p id="n26b"> +<sup>[26]</sup> Vance was referring jocularly to the declaration of Sakhmet in +the Chapter of Opening the Mouth of the Osiris Ani in the Egyptian +<i>Book of the Dead</i>: +</p> + +<figure> +<img alt="img_245.jpg" src="images/img_245.jpg"> +</figure> + +<p class="noindent"> +“I am the Goddess Sakhmet, and I take my seat upon the side of the +great west (wind?) of the skies.” +(<a href="#n26a">return</a>) +</p> + +<p id="n27b"> +<sup>[27]</sup> Salveter was here referring to the Earl of Carnarvon, Colonel the +Honorable Aubrey Herbert, General Sir Lee Stack, George J. Gould, +Woolf Joel, Sir Archibald Douglas Reid, Professor Lafleur, H.G. +Evelyn-White, and Professor Georges-Aaron Bénédite. Since that time +two more names have been added to the fatal list—those of the +Honorable Richard Bethell, secretary to Howard Carter, and Lord +Westbury. +(<a href="#n27a">return</a>) +</p> + +<p id="n28b"> +<sup>[28]</sup> Theogonius was a friend of Simon Magus, who, because of his fear +of the Emperor Caligula, pretended imbecility in order to hide his +wisdom. Suetonius refers to him as Theogonius, but Scaliger, Casaubon +and other historians give “Telegenius” as the correct spelling. +(<a href="#n28a">return</a>) +</p> + +<p id="n29b"> +<sup>[29]</sup> Vance of course was referring to the French <i>Fête Nationale</i> which +falls on July 14th. +(<a href="#n29a">return</a>) +</p> + +<p id="n30b"> +<sup>[30]</sup> This was my guess during Vance’s operation. Later I calculated +the weight of the lid. It was ten feet long, four feet wide, and was +surmounted by a large carved figure. A conservative estimate would +give us ten cubic feet for the lid; and as the density of granite is +approximately 2.70 grams per cubic centimeter, or 170 pounds per cubic +foot, the lid would have weighed at least 1,700 pounds. +(<a href="#n30a">return</a>) +</p> + +<p id="n31b"> +<sup>[31]</sup> The actual dedication reads: “I inscribe this book of adventure +to my son, Arthur John Rider Haggard, in the hope that in days to come +he, and many other boys whom I shall never know, may in the acts and +thoughts of Allan Quatermain and his companions, as herein recorded, +find something to help him and them to reach to what, with Sir Henry +Curtis, I hold to be the highest rank whereto we can obtain—the state +and dignity of English gentlemen.” +(<a href="#n31a">return</a>) +</p> + +<p id="n32b"> +<sup>[32]</sup> Nor did I. But while this record of mine was running serially in +the <i>American Magazine</i> several readers wrote to me pointing out the +inconsistency. +(<a href="#n32a">return</a>) +</p> + +<p id="n33b"> +<sup>[33]</sup> It will be recalled that in the Greene murder case the murderer, +pretending to be frightened at the sinister danger lurking in the dim +corridors of the old Greene mansion, made a similar error in +psychological judgment by descending to the pantry in the middle of +the night for no other reason than to gratify a mild appetite for food. +(<a href="#n33a">return</a>) +</p> + +<p id="n34b"> +<sup>[34]</sup> Vance was here referring to the famous passage in the Chapter—“Das +Judentum”—in Otto Weininger’s “Geschlecht und Charakter”: “<i>Der +Engländer hat dem Deutschen als tüchtiger Empiriker, als Realpolitiker +im Praktischen wie im Theoretischen, imponiert, aber damit ist seine +Wichtigkeit für die Philosophie auch erschöpft. Es hat noch nie einen +tieferen Denker gegeben, der beim Empirismus stehen geblieben ist; und +noch nie einen Engländer, der über ihn selbstständig hinausgekommen +wäre.</i>” +(<a href="#n34a">return</a>) +</p> + + +<h2> +TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES +</h2> + +<p> +Minor spelling inconsistencies (e.g. death-trap/death trap, +scarab-pin/scarab pin, etc.) have been preserved. +</p> + +<p class="noindent mt1"> +<b>Alterations to the text</b>: +</p> + +<p> +Convert footnotes to endnotes. +</p> + +<p> +Fix a couple minor punctuation issues. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter XI] +</p> + +<p> +Change “from the direct <i>ofject</i> of the interrogation” to +<i>object</i>. +</p> + +<p class="noindent"> +[Chapter XIX] +</p> + +<p> +“Salveter appeared even more <i>puzzzled</i>” to <i>puzzled</i>. +</p> + +<p class="center mt1"> +[End of text] +</p> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 78655 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/78655-h/images/cover.jpg b/78655-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..aa952ee --- /dev/null +++ b/78655-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/78655-h/images/img_026.jpg b/78655-h/images/img_026.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..4b53967 --- /dev/null +++ b/78655-h/images/img_026.jpg diff --git a/78655-h/images/img_026_th.jpg b/78655-h/images/img_026_th.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9389c03 --- /dev/null +++ b/78655-h/images/img_026_th.jpg diff --git a/78655-h/images/img_036.jpg b/78655-h/images/img_036.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..96ed0ea --- /dev/null +++ b/78655-h/images/img_036.jpg diff --git a/78655-h/images/img_231.jpg b/78655-h/images/img_231.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8f4779f --- /dev/null +++ b/78655-h/images/img_231.jpg diff --git a/78655-h/images/img_231_th.jpg b/78655-h/images/img_231_th.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..30c7760 --- /dev/null +++ b/78655-h/images/img_231_th.jpg diff --git a/78655-h/images/img_245.jpg b/78655-h/images/img_245.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0153b9a --- /dev/null +++ b/78655-h/images/img_245.jpg diff --git a/78655-h/images/img_285.jpg b/78655-h/images/img_285.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..565a64d --- /dev/null +++ b/78655-h/images/img_285.jpg diff --git a/78655-h/images/img_291.jpg b/78655-h/images/img_291.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..db25ab7 --- /dev/null +++ b/78655-h/images/img_291.jpg diff --git a/78655-h/images/img_291_th.jpg b/78655-h/images/img_291_th.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fab14fa --- /dev/null +++ b/78655-h/images/img_291_th.jpg diff --git a/78655-h/images/img_fp.jpg b/78655-h/images/img_fp.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fdff64a --- /dev/null +++ b/78655-h/images/img_fp.jpg diff --git a/78655-h/images/img_fp_th.jpg b/78655-h/images/img_fp_th.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ff4b5e8 --- /dev/null +++ b/78655-h/images/img_fp_th.jpg |
