yet?"
"You mean about the beautiful Mrs. Kniepp?
"And yet I tell you I am right. It was an intentional suicide."
"Muller, Muller, you must keep better watch over your imagination andyour tongue! It is a dangerous thing to spread rumours about personshigh in favor with the Arch-duke. But you had better tell me what youthink about this affair," continued the doctor, pointing back towardsthe room they had just left.
"There's a woman in the case."
"Aha! you are romancing again. Well, they won't be so sensitive aboutthis matter, but take care that you don't make a mistake again, mydear Muller. It would be likely to cost you your position, don't forgetthat."
The doctor left the house. Muller smiled bitterly as he closed the doorbehind him, and murmured to himself: "Indeed, I do not forget it, andthat is why I shall take this matter into my own hands. But the Knieppcase is not closed yet, by any means."
When he returned to the study he saw Johann sitting quietly in a corner,shaking his head, as if trying to understand it all. Horn was bendingover a sheet of writing paper which lay before the dead man. Fellnermust have been busy at his desk when the bullet penetrated his heart.His hand in dying had let fall the pen, which had drawn a long blackmark across the bottom of the sheet. One page of the paper was coveredwith a small, delicate handwriting.
Horn called up the detective, and together they read the followingwords:
"Dear Friend:--
"He challenged me--pistols--it means life or death. My enemy is verybitter. But I am not ready to die yet. And as I know that I would be theone to fall, I have refused the duel. That will help me little, forhis revenge will know how to find me. I dare not be a moment without aweapon now--his threats on my refusal let me fear the worst. I have anuncanny presentiment of evil. I shall leave here to-morrow. With theexcuse of having some pressing family affair to attend to, I havesecured several days' leave. Of course I do not intend to return. Iam hoping that you will come here and break up my establishment in mystead. I will tell you everything else when I see you. I am in a hurrynow, for there is a good deal of packing to do. If anything shouldhappen to me, you will know who it is who is responsible for my death.His name is--"
Here the letter came to an abrupt close.
Muller and Horn looked at each other in silence, then they turned theireyes again toward the dead man.
"He was a coward," said the detective coldly, and turned away. Hornrepeated mechanically, "A coward!" and his eyes also looked down witha changed expression upon the handsome, soft-featured face, framed incurly blond hair, that lay so silent against the chair-back. Many womenhad loved this dead man, and many men had been fond of him, for they hadbelieved him capable and manly.
The commissioner and Muller continued their researches in silence andwith less interest than before. They found a heap of loose ashes in thebedroom stove. Letters and other trifles had been burned there. Mullerraked out the heap very carefully, but the writing on the few pieces ofpaper still left whole was quite illegible. There were several envelopesin the waste-basket, but all of them were dated several months back.There was nothing that could give the slightest clue.
The letter written by the murdered man was sufficient proof that hisdeath had been an act of vengeance. But who was it who had carried outthis secret, terrible deed? The victim had not been allowed the time towrite down the name of his murderer.
Horn took the letter into his keeping. Then he left the room, followedby Muller and the valet, to look about the rest of the house as far aspossible. This was not very far, for the second story was closed off bya tall iron grating.
"Is the house door locked during the daytime?" asked Horn of theservant.
"The front door is, but the side door into the garden is usually open."
"Has it ever happened that any one got into the house from this sidedoor without your knowing it?"
"No, sir. The garden has a high wall around it. And there is extraprotection on the side toward the Promenade."
"But there's a little gate there?"
"Yes, sir."
"Is that usually closed?"
"We never use the key for that, sir. It has a trick lock that you can'topen unless you know how."
"You said you went to the theatre yesterday evening. Did your mastergive you permission to go?"
"Yes, sir. It's about a year now that he gave me money for a theatreticket every Saturday evening. He was very kind."
"Did you come into the house last night by the front door, or throughthe garden?"
"Through the garden, sir. I walked down the Promenade from the theatre."
"And you didn't notice anything--you saw no traces of footsteps?"
"No, sir. I didn't notice anything unusual. We shut the side door, thegarden door, every evening, also. It was closed yesterday and I foundthe key--we've only got one key to the garden door--in the same placewhere I was told to hide it when I went out in the evening."
"What place was that?"
"In one of the pails by the well."
"You say you were told to hide it there?"
"Yes, sir; the Professor told me. He'd go out in the evening sometimes,too, I suppose, and he wanted to be able to come in that way ifnecessary."
"And no one else knew where the key was hidden?"
"No one else, sir. It's nearly a year now that we've been alone in thehouse. Who else should know of it?"
"When you looked through the keyhole last night, are you sure that theProfessor was still alive?"
"Why, yes, sir; of course I couldn't say so surely. I thought he wasreading or writing, but oh, dear Lord! there he was this morning, nearlytwelve hours later, in just the same position." Johann shivered at thethought that he might have seen his master sitting at his desk, alreadya corpse.
"He must have been dead when you came home. Don't you think the sound ofthat shot would have wakened you?"
"Yes, sir, I think likely, sir," murmured Johann. "But if the murderercould get into the house, how could he get into the apartment?"
"There must have been a third key of which you knew nothing," answeredHorn, turning to Muller again. "It's stranger still how Fellnercould have been shot, for the window-shutters were fastened and quiteuninjured, and both doors were locked on the inside."
As he said these words, Horn looked sharply at his subordinate; butMuller's calm face did not give the slightest clue to his thoughts. Theexperienced police commissioner was pleased and yet slightly angered atthis behaviour on the part of the detective. He knew that it was quitepossible that Muller had already formed a clear opinion about the case,and that he was merely keeping it to himself. And yet he was glad tosee that the little detective had apparently learned a lesson from hisrecent mistake concerning the death of Mrs. Kniepp--that he had somewhatlost confidence in his hitherto unerring instinct, and did not care toexpress any opinion until he had studied the matter a little closer. Thecommissioner was just a little bit vain, and just a little bit jealousof this humble detective's fame.
Muller shrugged his shoulders at the remark of his superior, and thetwo men stood silent, thinking over the case, as the Chief of Policeappeared, accompanied by the doctor, a clerk, and two hospitalattendants. The chief commissioner received the report of what hadbeen discovered, while the corpse was laid on a bier to be taken to thehospital.
Muller handed the commissioner his hat and cane and helped him intohis overcoat. Horn noticed that the detective himself was makingno preparations to go out. "Aren't you coming with us?" he asked,astonished.
"I hope the gentlemen will allow me to remain here for a little while,"answered Muller modestly.
"But you know that we will have to close the apartment officially," saidHorn, his voice sharpening in his surprise and displeasure.
"I do not need to be in these rooms any longer."
"Don't let them disturb you, my dear Muller; we will allow yourkeenness all possible leeway here." The Head of Police spoke with calmpoliteness, but Muller started and s
hivered. The emphasis on the "here"showed him that even the head of the department had been incensed at hissuggestion that the beautiful Mrs. Kniepp had died of her own freewill. It had been his assertion of this which, coming to the ears ofthe bereaved husband, had enraged and embittered him, and had turned thepower of his influence with the high authorities against the detective.Muller knew how greatly he had fallen from favour in the PoliceDepartment, and the words of his respected superior showed him that hewas still in disgrace.
But the strange, quiet smile was still on his lips as, with his usualhumble deference, he accompanied the others to the sidewalk. Beforethe commissioners left the house, the Chief commanded Johann to