CHAPTER IV
THE THUNDERBOLT
It was about eight o'clock that evening that Godfrey tapped at mydoor, and when I let him in, I could tell by the way his eyes wereshining that he had some news.
"I can't stay long," he said. "I've got to get down to the office andput the finishing touches on that story;" but nevertheless he tookthe cigar I proffered him and sank into the chair opposite my own.
I knew Godfrey, so I waited patiently until the cigar was goingnicely, then--
"Well?" I asked.
"It's like old times, isn't it, Lester?" and he smiled across at me."How many conferences have we had in this room? How many of yourcigars have I made away with?"
"Not half enough recently," I said. "You haven't been here formonths."
"I'm sure to drift back, sooner or later, because you seem to have aknack of getting in on the interesting cases. And I want to say this,Lester, that of all I ever had, not one has promised better thanthis one does. If it only keeps up--but one mustn't expect too much!"
"You've been working on it, of course?"
"I haven't been idle, and just now I'm feeling rather pleased withmyself. The coroner's physician finished his post-mortem half an houror so ago."
"Well?" I said again.
"The stomach was absolutely normal. It showed no trace of poison ofany kind."
He stretched himself, lay back in his chair, sent a smoke-ringcircling toward the ceiling, and watched it, smiling absently.
"Rather a facer for our friend Goldberger," he added, after a minute.
"What's the matter with Goldberger? He seemed rather peeved with youthis afternoon."
"No wonder. He's Grady's man, and we're after Grady. Grady isn't fitto head the detective bureau--he got the job through his pull withTammany--he's stupid, and I suspect he's crooked. The _Record_ sayshe has got to go."
"So, of course, he _will_ go," I commented, smiling.
"He certainly will," assented Godfrey seriously, "and that beforelong. But meanwhile it's a little difficult for me, because hispeople don't know which way to jump. Once he's out, everything willbe serene again."
I wasn't interested in Grady, so I came back to the case in hand.
"Look here, Godfrey," I said, "if it wasn't poison, what was it?"
"But it _was_ poison."
"Inserted at the hand?"
He nodded.
"Goldberger says there's no poison known which could be used that wayand which would act so quickly."
"Goldberger is right in that," agreed Godfrey; "but there's a poisonunknown that will--because it did."
"It wasn't a snake bite?"
"Oh, no; snake poison wouldn't kill a man that quickly--not even afer-de-lance. That fellow practically dropped where he was struck."
"Then what was it?"
Godfrey was sitting erect again. He was not smiling now. His face wasvery stern.
"That is what I am going to find out, Lester," he said; "that is theproblem I've set myself to solve--and it's a pretty one. There is onething certain--that fellow was killed by some agency outside himself.In some way, a drop or two of poison was introduced into his blood byan instrument something like a hypodermic needle; and that poison wasso powerful that almost instantly it caused paralysis of the heart.After all, that isn't so remarkable as it might seem. The blood inthe veins of the hand would be carried back to the heart in four orfive seconds."
"But you've already said there's no poison so powerful as all that."
"I said we didn't know of any. I wouldn't be so sure that Catherinede Medici didn't."
"What has Catherine de Medici to do with it?"
"Nothing--except that what has been done may always be done again.Those old stories are, no doubt, exaggerated; but it seems fairlycertain that the Queen of Navarre was killed with a pair of poisonedgloves, the Duc d'Anjou with the scent of a poisoned rose, and thePrince de Porcian with the smoke of a poisoned lamp. This case isn'tas extraordinary as those."
"No," I agreed, and fell silent, shivering a little, for there issomething horrible and revolting about the poisoner.
"After all," went on Godfrey, at last, "there is one thing thatneither you nor I nor any reasonable man can believe, and that isthat this Frenchman came from heaven knows where--from Paris,perhaps--with Vantine's address in his pocket, and hunted up thehouse and made his way into it simply to kill himself there. He hadsome other object, and he met his death while trying to accomplishit."
"Have you found out who he is?"
"No; he's not registered at any of the hotels; the French consulnever heard of him; he belongs to none of the French societies; he'snot known in the French quarter. He seems to have dropped in from theclouds. We've cabled our Paris office to look him up; we may hearfrom there to-night. But even if we discover the identity ofTheophile d'Aurelle, it won't help us any."
"Why not?" I demanded.
"Because it is evident that that isn't his name."
"Go ahead and tell me, Godfrey," I said, as he looked at me, smiling."I don't see it."
"Why, it's plain enough. He had five cards in his pocket, no twoalike. The sixth, selected probably at random, he had sent up toVantine."
I saw it then, of course; and I felt a good deal as the Spanishsavants must have felt when Columbus stood the egg on end. Godfreysmiled again at my expression.
"The real d'Aurelle, whoever he may turn out to be, may be able tohelp us," he added. "If he can't, we may learn something from theParis police. The dead man's Bertillon measurements have been cabledover to them. Even that won't help, if he has never been arrested.And, of course, we can't get at motives until we find out somethingabout him."
"But, Godfrey," I said, "suppose you knew who he was and what hewanted with Vantine--suppose you could make a guess at who killedhim and why--how was it done? That is what stumps me. How was itdone?"
"Ah!" agreed Godfrey. "That's it! How was it done? I told you it wasa pretty case, Lester. But wait till we hear from Paris."
"That reminds me," I said, sitting up suddenly, "I've got to cable toParis myself, on some business for Mr. Vantine."
"Not connected with this affair?"
"Oh, no; his shippers over there sent him a piece of furniture thatdoesn't belong to him. He asked me to straighten the matter out."
I rang for the hall-boy, asked for a cable-blank, and sent off amessage to Armand & Son, telling them of the mistake and asking themto cable the name of the owner of the cabinet now in Mr. Vantine'spossession. Godfrey sat smoking reflectively while I was thusengaged, staring straight before him with eyes that saw nothing; butas I sat down again and took up my pipe, ready to continue theconversation, he gave himself a sort of shake, put on his hat, andgot to his feet.
"I must be moving along," he said. "There's no use sitting heretheorising until we have some sort of foundation to build on."
"Goldberger was right in one thing," I remarked. "He pointed out,after you left, that most crimes are not romances, but merebrutalities. Perhaps this one--"
The ringing of my telephone stopped me.
"Hello," I said, taking down the receiver.
"Is that you, Mr. Lester?" asked a voice.
"Yes."
"This is Parks," and I suddenly realised that his voice wasunfamiliar because it was hoarse and quivering with emotion. "Couldyou come down to the house right away, sir?"
"Why, yes," I said, wonderingly, "if it's important. Does Mr. Vantineneed me?"
"We all need you!" said the voice, and broke into a dry sob. "ForGod's sake, come quick, Mr. Lester!"
"All right," I said without further parley, for evidently he had losthis self-control. "Something has happened down at Vantine's," I addedto Godfrey, as I hung up the receiver. "Parks seems to be scared todeath. He wants me to come down right away," and I reached for my hatand coat.
"Shall I come, too?" asked Godfrey.
Even under the stress of the moment, I could not but smile at thequestion and at the tone in whic
h it was uttered.
"Perhaps you'd better," I agreed. "It sounded pretty serious."
We went down together in the elevator, and three minutes later we hadhailed a taxi and were speeding eastward toward the Avenue. It hadstarted to drizzle, and the asphalt shone like a black mirror,dancing with the lights along either side. The streets were almostempty, for the theatre-crowd had passed, and as we reached the Avenueand turned down-town, the driver pushed up his spark, and we hurtledalong toward Fourteenth street at a speed which made me think of thetraffic regulations. But no policeman interfered, and five minuteslater we drew up before the Vantine place.
Parks must have been on the front steps looking for me, for he camerunning down them almost before the car had stopped. I caught aglimpse of his face under the street lights, as I thrust a bill intothe driver's hand, and it fairly startled me.
"Is it you, Mr. Lester?" he gasped. "Good God, but I'm glad you'rehere--"
I caught him by the arm.
"Steady, man," I said. "Don't let yourself go to pieces. Now--whathas happened?"
He seemed to take a sort of desperate grip of himself.
"I'll show you, sir," he said, and ran up the steps, along the hall,to the door of the ante-room where we had found the Frenchman's body."In there, sir!" he sobbed. "In there!" and clung to the wall as Iopened the door and stepped inside.
The room was ablaze with light, and for an instant my eyes were sodazzled that I could distinguish nothing. Dimly I saw Godfrey springforward and drop to his knees.
Then my eyes cleared, and I saw, on the very spot where d'Aurelle haddied, another body--or was it the same, brought back that thetragedy of the afternoon might, in some mysterious way, be re-enacted?
I remember bending over and peering into the face--
It was the face of Philip Vantine.
A minute must have passed as I stood there dazed and shaken. I wasconscious, in a way, that Godfrey was examining him. Then I heard hisvoice.
"He's dead," he said.
Then there was an instant's silence.
"Lester, look here!" cried Godfrey's voice, sharp, insistent. "ForGod's sake, look here!"
Godfrey was kneeling there holding something toward me.
"Look here!" he cried again.
It was the dead man's hand he was holding; the right hand; a swollenand discoloured hand. And on the back of it, just above the knuckles,were two tiny wounds, from which a few drops of blood had trickled.
And as I stared at this ghastly sight, scarce able to believe myeyes, I heard a choking voice behind me, saying over and over again:
"It was that woman done it! It was that woman done it! Damn her! Itwas that woman done it!"