Well, thats that. Heath seemed well satisfied with Inspector Brenners conclusion. Ill send the box down to you, Professor, and you can let me know what else you find out.
Ill take it along, if you have no objection. And the little man tucked it under his arm and shuffled out without another word.
Heath grinned at Markham. Queer bird. He aint happy unless hes measuring jimmy marks on doors and windows and things. He couldnt wait till I sent him the box. Hell hold it lovingly on his lap all the way down in the subway, like a mother with a baby.
Vance was still standing near the dressing-table, gazing perplexedly into space.
Markham, he said, the condition of that jewel-case is positively astounding. Its unreasonable, illogicalinsane. It complicates the situation most damnably. That steel box simply couldnt have been chiselled open by a professional burglar and yet, dont y know, it actually was.
Before Markham could reply, a satisfied grunt from Captain Dubois attracted our attention.
Ive got something for you, Sergeant, he announced.
We moved expectantly into the living-room. Dubois was bending over the end of the library-table almost directly behind the place where Margaret Odells body had been found. He took out an insufflator, which was like a very small hand-bellows, and blew a fine light-yellow powder evenly over about a square foot of the polished rosewood surface of the table-top. Then he gently blew away the surplus powder, and there appeared the impression of a human hand distinctly registered in saffron. The bulb of the thumb and each fleshy hummock between the joints of the fingers and around the palm stood out like tiny circular islands. All the papillary ridges were clearly discernible. The photographer then hooked his camera to a peculiar adjustable tripod and, carefully focusing his lens, took two flash-light pictures of the hand-mark.
This ought to do. Dubois was pleased with his find. Its the right handa clear printand the guy who made it was standing right behind the dame. And its the newest print in the place.
What about this box? Heath pointed to the black document-box on the table near the overturned lamp.
Not a markwiped clean.
Dubois began putting away his paraphernalia.
I say, Captain Dubois, interposed Vance, did you take a good look at the inside door-knob of that clothes-press?
The man swung about abruptly, and gave Vance a glowering look.
People aint in the habit of handling the inside knobs of closet doors. They open and shut closets from the outside.
Vance raised his eyebrows in simulated astonishment.
Do they, now, really?Fancy that! Still, dont y know, if one were inside the closet, one couldnt reach the outside knob.
The people I know dont shut themselves in clothes-closets. Duboiss tone was ponderously sarcastic.
You positively amaze me! declared Vance. All the people I know are addicted to the habita sort of daily pastime, dont y know.
Markham, always diplomatic, intervened.
What idea have you about that closet, Vance?
Alas! I wish I had one, was the dolorous answer. Its because I cant, for the life of me, make sense of its neat and orderly appearance that Im so interested in it. Really, y know, it should have been artistically looted.
Heath was not entirely free from the same vague misgivings that were disturbing Vance, for he turned to Dubois and said:
You might go over the knob, Captain. As this gentleman says, theres something funny about the condition of that closet.
Dubois, silent and surly, went to the closet door and sprayed his yellow powder over the inside knob. When he had blown the loose particles away, he bent over it with his magnifying-glass. At length he straightened up, and gave Vance a look of ill-natured appraisal.
Theres fresh prints on it, all right, he grudgingly admitted; and unless Im mistaken they were made by the same hand as those on the table. Both thumb-marks are ulnar loops, and the index-fingers are both whorl patterns. Here, Pete, he ordered the photographer, make some shots of that knob.
When this had been done, Dubois, Bellamy, and the photographer left us.
A few moments later, after an interchange of pleasantries, Inspector Moran also departed. At the door he passed two men in the white uniform of internes, who had come to take away the girls body.
Chapter V. The Bolted Door
(Tuesday, September 11; 10.30 a.m.)
Markham and Heath and Vance and I were now alone in the apartment. Dark, low-hanging clouds had drifted across the sun, and the gray spectral light intensified the tragic atmosphere of the rooms. Markham had lighted a cigar, and stood leaning against the piano, looking about him with a disconsolate but determined air. Vance had moved over to one of the pictures on the side wall of the living-roomBouchers La Bergère Endormie, I think it wasand stood looking at it with cynical contempt.
Dimpled nudities, gambolling Cupids and woolly clouds for royal cocottes, he commented. His distaste for all the painting of the French decadence under Louis XV was profound. One wonders what pictures courtesans hung in their boudoirs before the invention of these amorous eclogues, with their blue verdure and beribboned sheep.
Im more interested at present in what took place in this particular boudoir last night, retorted Markham impatiently.
Theres not much doubt about that, sir, said Heath encouragingly. And Ive an idea that when Dubois checks up those finger-prints with our files, well about know who did it.
Vance turned toward him with a rueful smile.
Youre so trusting, Sergeant. I, in turn, have an idea that, long before this touchin case is clarified, youll wish the irascible Captain with the insect-powder had never found those finger-prints. He made a playful gesture of emphasis. Permit me to whisper into your ear that the person who left his sign-manuals on yonder rosewood table and cut-glass door-knob had nothing whatever to do with the precipitate demise of the fair Mademoiselle[26] Odell.
What is it you suspect? demanded Markham sharply.
Not a thing, old dear, blandly declared Vance. Im wandering about in a mental murk as empty of sign-posts as interplanetary space. The jaws of darkness do devour me up; Im in the dead vast and middle of the night. My mental darkness is Egyptian, Stygian, CimmerianIm in a perfect Erebus of tenebrosity.
Markhams jaw tightened in exasperation; he was familiar with this evasive loquacity of Vances. Dismissing the subject, he addressed himself to Heath.
Have you done any questioning of the people in the house here?
I talked to Odells maid and to the janitor and the switchboard operators, but I didnt go much into detailsI was waiting for you. Ill say this, though: what they did tell me made my head swim. If they dont back down on some of their statements, were up against it.
Lets have them in now, then, suggested Markham; the maid first. He sat down on the piano-bench with his back to the keyboard.
Heath rose, but instead of going to the door, walked to the oriel window.
Theres one thing I want to call your attention to, sir, before you interview these people, and thats the matter of entrances and exits in this apartment. He drew aside the gold-gauze curtain. Look at that iron grating. All the windows in this place, including the ones in the bathroom, are equipped with iron bars just like these. Its only eight or ten feet to the ground here, and whoever built this house wasnt taking any chances of burglars getting in through the windows.
He released the curtain, and strode into the foyer.
Now, theres only one entrance to this apartment, and thats this door here opening off the main hall. There isnt a transom or an air-shaft or a dumb-waiter in the place, and that means that the only waythe only waythat anybody can get in or out of this apartment is through this door. Just keep that fact in your mind, sir, while youre listening to the stories of these people. Now, Ill have the maid brought in.
In response to Heaths order a detective led in a mulatto woman about thirty years old. She was neatly dressed, and gave one the impression of capability. When she spoke it was with a quiet, clear enunciation which attested to a greater degree of education than is ordinarily found in members of her class.
Her name, we learned, was Amy Gibson; and the information elicited by Markhams preliminary questioning consisted of the following facts:
She had arrived at the apartment that morning a few minutes after seven, and, as was her custom, had let herself in with her own key, as her mistress generally slept till late.
Once or twice a week she came early to do sewing and mending for Miss Odell before the latter arose. On this particular morning she had come early to make an alteration in a gown.
As soon as she had opened the door she had been confronted by the disorder of the apartment, for the Venetian-glass doors of the foyer were wide open; and almost simultaneously she had noticed the body of her mistress on the davenport.
She had called at once to Jessup, the night telephone operator then on duty, who, after one glance into the living-room, had notified the police. She had then sat down in the public reception-room and waited for the arrival of the officers.
Her testimony had been simple and direct and intelligently stated. If she was nervous or excited, she managed to keep her feelings well under control.
Now, continued Markham, after a short pause, let us go back to last night.At what time did you leave Miss Odell?
A few minutes before seven, sir, the woman answered, in a colorless, even tone which seemed to be characteristic of her speech.
Is that your usual hour for leaving?
No; I generally go about six. But last night Miss Odell wanted me to help her dress for dinner.
Dont you always help her dress for dinner?
No, sir. But last night she was going with some gentleman to dinner and the theatre, and wanted to look specially nice.
Ah! Markham leaned forward. And who was this gentleman?
I dont know, sirMiss Odell didnt say.
And you couldnt suggest who it might have been?
I couldnt say, sir.
And when did Miss Odell tell you that she wanted you to come early this morning?
When I was leaving last night.
So she evidently didnt anticipate any danger, or have any fear of her companion.
It doesnt look that way. The woman paused, as if considering. No, I know she didnt. She was in good spirits.
Markham turned to Heath.
Any other questions you want to ask, Sergeant?
Heath removed an unlighted cigar from his mouth, and bent forward, resting his hands on his knees.
What jewellery did this Odell woman have on last night? he demanded gruffly.
The maids manner became cool and a bit haughty.
Miss Odellshe emphasized the Miss, by way of reproaching him for the disrespect implied in his omissionwore all her rings, five or six of them, and three braceletsone of square diamonds, one of rubies, and one of diamonds and emeralds. She also had on a sunburst of pear-shaped diamonds on a chain round her neck, and she carried a platinum lorgnette set with diamonds and pearls.
Did she own any other jewellery?
A few small pieces, maybe, but Im not sure.
And did she keep em in a steel jewel-case in the bedroom?
Yeswhen she wasnt wearing them. There was more than a suggestion of sarcasm in the reply.
Oh, I thought maybe she kept em locked up when she had em on. Heaths antagonism had been aroused by the maids attitude; he could not have failed to note that she had consistently omitted the punctilious sir when answering him. He now stood up and pointed loweringly to the black document-box on the rosewood table.
Ever see that before?
The woman nodded indifferently. Many times.
Where was it generally kept?
In that thing. She indicated the Boule cabinet with a motion of the head.
What was in the box?
How should I know?
You dont knowhuh? Heath thrust out his jaw, but his bullying attitude had no effect upon the impassive maid.
Ive got no idea, she replied calmly. It was always kept locked, and I never saw Miss Odell open it.
The Sergeant walked over to the door of the living-room closet.
See that key? he asked angrily.
Again the woman nodded; but this time I detected a look of mild astonishment in her eyes.
Was that key always kept on the inside of the door?
No; it was always on the outside.
Heath shot Vance a curious look. Then, after a moments frowning contemplation of the knob, he waved his hand to the detective who had brought the maid in.
Take her back to the reception-room, Snitkin, and get a detailed description from her of all the Odell jewellery. And keep her outside; Ill want her again.
When Snitkin and the maid had gone out, Vance lay back lazily on the davenport, where he had sat during the interview, and sent a spiral of cigarette smoke toward the ceiling.
Rather illuminatin, what? he remarked. The dusky demoiselle[27] got us considerably forrader. Now we know that the closet key is on the wrong side of the door, and that our fille de joie[28] went to the theatre with one of her favorite inamorati[29], who presumably brought her home shortly before she took her departure from this wicked world.
You think thats helpful, do you? Heaths tone was contemptuously triumphant. Wait till you hear the crazy story the telephone operators got to tell.
All right, Sergeant, put in Markham impatiently. Suppose we get on with the ordeal.
Im going to suggest, Mr. Markham, that we question the janitor first. And Ill show you why. Heath went to the entrance door of the apartment, and opened it. Look here for just a minute, sir.
He stepped out into the main hall, and pointed down the little passageway on the left. It was about ten feet in length, and ran between the Odell apartment and the blank rear wall of the reception-room. At the end of it was a solid oak door which gave on the court at the side of the house.
That door, explained Heath, is the only side or rear entrance to this building; and when that door is bolted nobody can get into the house except by the front entrance. You cant even get into the building through the other apartments, for every window on this floor is barred. I checked up on that point as soon as I got here.
He led the way back into the living-room.
Now, after Id looked over the situation this morning, he went on, I figured that our man had entered through that side door at the end of the passageway, and had slipped into this apartment without the night operator seeing him. So I tried the side door to see if it was open. But it was bolted on the insidenot locked, mind you, but bolted. And it wasnt a slip-bolt, either, that could have been jimmied or worked open from the outside, but a tough old-fashioned turn-bolt of solid brass. And now I want you to hear what the janitors got to say about it.
Markham nodded acquiescence, and Heath called an order to one of the officers in the hall. A moment later a stolid, middle-aged German, with sullen features and high cheek-bones, stood before us. His jaw was clamped tight, and he shifted his eyes from one to the other of us suspiciously.
Heath straightway assumed the rôle of inquisitor.
What time do you leave here at night? He had, for some reason, assumed a belligerent manner.