Read The Silent Bullet Page 8


  VII. The Azure Ring

  Files of newspapers and innumerable clippings from the press bureauslittered Kennedy's desk in rank profusion. Kennedy himself was sodeeply absorbed that I had merely said good evening as I came in and hadstarted to open my mail. With an impatient sweep of his hand, however,he brushed the whole mass of newspapers into the waste-basket.

  "It seems to me, Walter," he exclaimed in disgust, "that this mysteryis considered insoluble for the very reason which should make it easy tosolve--the extraordinary character of its features."

  Inasmuch as he had opened the subject, I laid down the letter I wasreading. "I'll wager I can tell you just why you made that remark,Craig," I ventured. "You're reading up on that Wainwright-Templetonaffair."

  "You are on the road to becoming a detective yourself, Walter," heanswered with a touch of sarcasm. "Your ability to add two units totwo other units and obtain four units is almost worthy of InspectorO'Connor. You are right and within a quarter of an hour the districtattorney of Westchester County will be here. He telephoned me thisafternoon and sent an assistant with this mass of dope. I suppose he'llwant it back," he added, fishing the newspapers out of the basket again."But, with all due respect to your profession, I'll say that no onewould ever get on speaking terms with the solution of this case if hehad to depend solely on the newspaper writers."

  "No?" I queried, rather nettled at his tone.

  "No," he repeated emphatically. "Here one of the most popular girlsin the fashionable suburb of Williston, and one of the leading youngermembers of the bar in New York, engaged to be married, are found dead inthe library of the girl's home the day before the ceremony. And now,a week later, no one knows whether it was an accident due to the fumesfrom the antique charcoal-brazier, or whether it was a double suicide,or suicide and murder, or a double murder, or--or--why, the expertshaven't even been able to agree on whether they have discovered poisonor not," he continued, growing as excited as the city editor did over myfirst attempt as a cub reporter.

  "They haven't agreed on anything except that on the eve of what was,presumably, to have been the happiest day of their lives two of the bestknown members of the younger set are found dead, while absolutely noone, as far as is known, can be proved to have been near them within thetime necessary to murder them. No wonder the coroner says it is simplya case of asphyxiation. No wonder the district attorney is at his wits'end. You fellows have hounded them with your hypotheses until they can'tsee the facts straight. You suggest one solution and before-"

  The door-bell sounded insistently, and without waiting for an answer atall, spare, loose-jointed individual stalked in and laid a green bag onthe table.

  "Good evening, Professor Kennedy," he began brusquely. "I am DistrictAttorney Whitney, of Westchester. I see you have been reading up on thecase. Quite right."

  "Quite wrong," answered Craig. "Let me introduce my friend, Mr. Jameson,of the Star. Sit down. Jameson knows what I think of the way thenewspapers have handled this case. I was about to tell him as you camein that I intended to disregard everything that had been printed, tostart out with you as if it were a fresh subject and get the facts atfirst hand. Let's get right down to business. First tell us just how itwas that Miss Wainwright and Mr. Templeton were discovered and by whom."

  The district attorney loosened the cords of the green bag and drew out abundle of documents. "I'll read you the affidavit of the maid whofound them," he said, fingering the documents nervously. "You see, JohnTempleton had left his office in New York early that afternoon, tellinghis father that he was going to visit Miss Wainwright. He caughtthe three-twenty train, reached Williston all right, walked to theWainwright house, and, in spite of the bustle of preparation for thewedding, the next day, he spent the rest of the afternoon with MissWainwright. That's where the mystery begins. They had no visitors. Atleast, the maid who answers the bell says they had none. She was busywith the rest of the family, and I believe the front door was notlocked--we don't lock our doors in Williston, except at night."

  He had found the paper and paused to impress these facts on our minds.

  "Mrs. Wainwright and Miss Marian Wainwright, the sister, were busy aboutthe house. Mrs. Wainwright wished to consult Laura about something. Shesummoned the maid and asked if Mr. Templeton and Miss Wainwright werein the house. The maid replied that she would see, and this is heraffidavit. Ahem! I'll skip the legal part: 'I knocked at the librarydoor twice, but obtaining no answer, I supposed they had gone out fora walk or perhaps a ride across country as they often did. I opened thedoor partly and looked in. There was a silence in the room, a strange,queer silence. I opened the door further and, looking toward thedavenport in the corner, I saw Miss Laura and Mr. Templeton in such anawkward position. They looked as if they had fallen asleep. His head wasthrown back against the cushions of the davenport, and on his face was amost awful look. It was discoloured. Her head had fallen forward on hisshoulder, sideways, and on her face, too, was the same terrible stareand the same discolouration. Their right hands were tightly clasped.

  "'I called to them. They did not answer. Then the horrible truth flashedon me. They were dead. I felt giddy for a minute, but quickly recoveredmyself, and with a cry for help I rushed to Mrs. Wainwright's room,shrieking that they were dead. Mrs. Wainwright fainted. Miss Mariancalled the doctor on the telephone and helped us restore her mother. Sheseemed perfectly cool in the tragedy, and I do not know what we servantsshould have done if she had not been there to direct us. The house wasfrantic, and Mr. Wainwright was not at home.

  "'I did not detect any odour when I opened the library door. No glassesor bottles or vials or other receptacles which could have held poisonwere discovered or removed by me, or to the best of my knowledge andbelief by anyone else.'"

  "What happened next?" asked Craig eagerly.

  "The family physician arrived and sent for the coroner immediately, andlater for myself. You see, he thought at once of murder."

  "But the coroner, I understand, thinks differently," prompted Kennedy.

  "Yes, the coroner has declared the case to be accidental. He says thatthe weight of evidence points positively to asphyxiation. Still, how canit be asphyxiation? They could have escaped from the room at any time;the door was not locked. I tell you, in spite of the fact that the testsfor poison in their mouths, stomachs, and blood have so far revealednothing, I still believe that John Templeton and Laura Wainwright weremurdered."

  Kennedy looked at his watch thoughtfully. "You have told me just enoughto make me want to see the coroner himself," he mused. "If we takethe next train out to Williston with you, will you engage to get us ahalf-hour talk with him on the case, Mr. Whitney?"

  "Surely. But we'll have to start right away. I've finished my otherbusiness in New York. Inspector O'Connor--ah, I see you know him--haspromised to secure the attendance of anyone whom I can show to be amaterial witness in the case. Come on, gentlemen: I'll answer your otherquestions on the train."

  As we settled ourselves in the smoker, Whitney remarked in a low voice,"You know, someone has said that there is only one thing more difficultto investigate and solve than a crime whose commission is surroundedby complicated circumstances and that is a crime whose perpetration iswholly devoid of circumstances."

  "Are you so sure that this crime is wholly devoid of circumstances?"asked Craig.

  "Professor," he replied, "I'm not sure of anything in this case. If Iwere I should not require your assistance. I would like the credit ofsolving it myself, but it is beyond me. Just think of it: so far wehaven't a clue, at least none that shows the slightest promise, althoughwe have worked night and day for a week. It's all darkness. The factsare so simple that they give us nothing to work on. It is like a blanksheet of paper."

  Kennedy said nothing, and the district attorney proceeded: "I don'tblame Mr. Nott, the coroner, for thinking it an accident. But tomy mind, some master criminal must have arranged this very bafflingsimplicity of circumstances. You recall that the front door wasunlocked.
This person must have entered the house unobserved, not adifficult thing to do, for the Wainwright house is somewhat isolated.Perhaps this person brought along some poison in the form of a beverage,and induced the two victims to drink. And then, this person must haveremoved the evidences as swiftly as they were brought in and by the samedoor. That, I think, is the only solution."

  "That is not the only solution. It is one solution," interrupted Kennedyquietly.

  "Do you think someone in the house did it?" I asked quickly.

  "I think," replied Craig, carefully measuring his words, "that if poisonwas given them it must have been by someone they both knew pretty well."

  No one said a word, until at last I broke the silence. "I know from thegossip of the Star office that many Williston people say that Marian wasvery jealous of her sister Laura for capturing the catch of the season.Williston people don't hesitate to hint at it."

  Whitney produced another document from that fertile green bag. It wasanother affidavit. He handed it to us. It was a statement signed by Mrs.Wainwright, and read:

  "Before God, my daughter Marian is innocent. If you wish to find outall, find out more about the past history of Mr. Templeton before hebecame engaged to Laura. She would never in the world have committedsuicide. She was too bright and cheerful for that, even if Mr. Templetonhad been about to break off the engagement. My daughters Laura andMarian were always treated by Mr. Wainwright and myself exactly alike.Of course they had their quarrels, just as all sisters do, but there wasnever, to my certain knowledge, a serious disagreement, and I was alwaysclose enough to my girls to know. No, Laura was murdered by someoneoutside."

  Kennedy did not seem to attach much importance to this statement. "Letus see," he began reflectively. "First, we have a young woman especiallyattractive and charming in both person and temperament. She is justabout to be married and, if the reports are to be believed, there wasno cloud on her happiness. Secondly, we have a young man whom everyoneagrees to have been of an ardent, energetic, optimistic temperament. Hehad everything to live for, presumably. So far, so good. Everyone whohas investigated this case, I understand, has tried to eliminate thedouble-suicide and the suicide-and-murder theories. That is allright, providing the facts are as stated. We shall see, later, when weinterview the coroner. Now, Mr. Whitney, suppose you tell us brieflywhat you have learned about the past history of the two unfortunatelovers."

  "Well, the Wainwrights are an old Westchester family, not very wealthy,but of the real aristocracy of the county. There were only two children,Laura and Marian. The Templetons were much the same sort of family. Thechildren all attended a private school at White Plains, and there alsothey met Schuyler Vanderdyke. These four constituted a sort of littlearistocracy in the school. I mention this, because Vanderdyke laterbecame Laura's first husband. This marriage with Templeton was a secondventure."

  "How long ago was she divorced?" asked Craig attentively.

  "About three years ago. I'm coming to that in a moment. The sisters wentto college together, Templeton to law school, and Vanderdyke studiedcivil engineering. Their intimacy was pretty well broken up, all exceptLaura's and Vanderdyke's. Soon after he graduated he was taken into theconstruction department of the Central Railroad by his uncle, who was avice-president, and Laura and he were married. As far as I can learn hehad been a fellow of convivial habits at college, and about two yearsafter their marriage his wife suddenly became aware of what hadlong been well known in Williston, that Vanderdyke was paying markedattention to a woman named Miss Laporte in New York.

  "No sooner had Laura Vanderdyke learned of this intimacy of herhusband," continued Whitney, "than she quietly hired private detectivesto shadow him, and on their evidence she obtained a divorce. The paperswere sealed, and she resumed her maiden name.

  "As far as I can find out, Vanderdyke then disappeared from her life. Heresigned his position with the railroad and joined a party of engineersexploring the upper Amazon. Later he went to Venezuela. Miss Laportealso went to South America about the same time, and was for a time inVenezuela, and later in Peru.

  "Vanderdyke seems to have dropped all his early associations completely,though at present I find he is back in New York raising capital fora company to exploit a new asphalt concession in the interior ofVenezuela. Miss Laporte has also reappeared in New York as Mrs. Ralston,with a mining claim in the mountains of Peru."

  "And Templeton?" asked Craig. "Had he had any previous matrimonialventures?"

  "No, none. Of course he had had love affairs, mostly with thecountry-club set. He had known Miss Laporte pretty well, too, while hewas in law school in New York. But when he settled down to work he seemsto have forgotten all about the girls for a couple of years or so. Hewas very anxious to get ahead, and let nothing stand in his way. He wasadmitted to the bar and taken in by his father as junior member of thefirm of Templeton, Mills & Templeton. Not long ago he was appointeda special master to take testimony in the get-rich-quick-companyprosecutions, and I happen to know that he was making good in theinvestigation."

  Kennedy nodded. "What sort of fellow personally was Templeton?" heasked.

  "Very popular," replied the district attorney, "both at the countryclub and in his profession in New York. He was a fellow of naturallycommanding temperament--the Templetons were always that way. I doubt ifmany young men even with his chances could have gained such a reputationat thirty-five as his. Socially he was very popular, too, a greatcatch for all the sly mamas of the country club who had marriageabledaughters. He liked automobiles and outdoor sports, and he was strong inpolitics, too. That was how he got ahead so fast.

  "Well, to cut the story short, Templeton met the Wainwright girls againlast summer at a resort on Long Island. They had just returned from along trip abroad, spending most of the time in the Far East with theirfather, whose firm has business interests in China. The girls were veryattractive. They rode and played tennis and golf better than most of themen, and this fall Templeton became a frequent visitor at the Wainwrighthome in Williston.

  "People who know them best tell me that his first attentions were paidto Marian, a very dashing and ambitious young woman. Nearly every dayTempleton's car stopped at the house and the girls and some friend ofTempleton's in the country club went for a ride. They tell me that atthis time Marian always sat with Templeton on the front seat. Butafter a few weeks the gossips--nothing of that sort ever escapesWilliston--said that the occupant of the front seat was Laura. She oftendrove the car herself and was very clever at it. At any rate, not longafter that the engagement was announced."

  As he walked up from the pretty little Williston station Kennedy asked:"One more question, Mr. Whitney. How did Marian take the engagement?"

  The district attorney hesitated. "I will be perfectly frank, Mr.Kennedy," he answered. "The country-club people tell me that the girlswere very cool toward each other. That was why I got that statement fromMrs. Wainwright. I wish to be perfectly fair to everyone concerned inthis case."

  We found the coroner quite willing to talk, in spite of the fact thatthe hour was late. "My friend, Mr. Whitney, here, still holds the poisontheory," began the coroner, "in spite of the fact that everything pointsabsolutely toward asphyxiation. If I had been able to discover theslightest trace of illuminating-gas in the room I should have pronouncedit asphyxia at once. All the symptoms accorded with it. But the asphyxiawas not caused by escaping illuminating-gas.

  "There was an antique charcoal-brazier in the room, and I haveascertained that it was lighted. Now, anything like a brazier will,unless there is proper ventilation, give rise to carbonic oxideor carbon monoxide gas, which is always present in the products ofcombustion, often to the extent of from five to ten per cent. A veryslight quantity of this gas, insufficient even to cause an odour in aroom, will give a severe headache, and a case is recorded where a wholefamily in Glasgow was poisoned without knowing it by the escape of thisgas. A little over one per cent of it in the atmosphere is fatal,if breathed for any length of time. You kn
ow, it is a product ofcombustion, and is very deadly--it is the much-dreaded white damp orafterdamp of a mine explosion.

  "I'm going to tell you a secret which I have not given out to the pressyet. I tried an experiment in a closed room today, lighting the brazier.Some distance from it I placed a cat confined in a cage so it could notescape. In an hour and a half the cat was asphyxiated."

  The coroner concluded with an air of triumph that quite squelched thedistrict attorney.

  Kennedy was all attention. "Have you preserved samples of the blood ofMr. Templeton and Miss Wainwright?" he asked.

  "Certainly. I have them in my office."

  The coroner, who was also a local physician, led us back into hisprivate office.

  "And the cat?" added Craig.

  Doctor Nott produced it in a covered basket.

  Quickly Kennedy drew off a little of the blood of the cat and held it upto the light along with the human samples. The difference was apparent.

  "You see," he explained, "carbon monoxide combines firmly with theblood, destroying the red colouring matter of the red corpuscles. No,Doctor, I'm afraid it wasn't carbonic oxide that killed the lovers,although it certainly killed the cat."

  Doctor Nott was crestfallen, but still unconvinced. "If my whole medicalreputation were at stake," he repeated, "I should still be compelled toswear to asphyxia. I've seen it too often, to make a mistake. Carbonicoxide or not, Templeton and Miss Wainwright were asphyxiated."

  It was now Whitney's chance to air his theory.

  "I have always inclined toward the cyanide-of-potassium theory, eitherthat it was administered in a drink or perhaps injected by a needle," hesaid. "One of the chemists has reported that there was a possibility ofslight traces of cyanide in the mouths."

  "If it had been cyanide," replied Craig, looking reflectively at the twojars before him on the table, "these blood specimens would be blue incolour and clotted. But they are not. Then, too, there is a substancein the saliva which is used in the process of digestion. It gives areaction which might very easily be mistaken for a slight trace ofcyanide. I think that explains what the chemist discovered; no more, noless. The cyanide theory does not fit."

  "One chemist hinted at nux vomica," volunteered the coroner. "He saidit wasn't nux vomica, but that the blood test showed something verymuch like it. Oh, we've looked for morphine chloroform, ether, all theordinary poisons, besides some of the little known alkaloids. Believeme, Professor Kennedy, it was asphyxia."

  I could tell by the look that crossed Kennedy's face that at last a rayof light had pierced the darkness. "Have you any spirits of turpentinein the office?" he asked.

  The coroner shook his head and took a step toward the telephone as if tocall the drug-store in town.

  "Or ether?" interrupted Craig. "Ether will do."

  "Oh, yes, plenty of ether."

  Craig poured a little of one of the blood samples from the jar into atube and added a few drops of ether. A cloudy dark precipitate formed.He smiled quietly and said, half to himself, "I thought so."

  "What is it?" asked the coroner eagerly. "Nux vomica?"

  Craig shook his head as he stared at the black precipitate. "You wereperfectly right about the asphyxiation, Doctor," he remarkedslowly, "but wrong as to the cause. It wasn't carbon monoxide orilluminating-gas. And you, Mr. Whitney, were right about the poison,too. Only it is a poison neither of you ever heard of."

  "What is it?" we asked simultaneously.

  "Let me take these samples and make some further tests. I am sure ofit, but it is new to me. Wait till to-morrow night, when my chain ofevidence is completed. Then you are all cordially invited to attendat my laboratory at the university. I'll ask you, Mr. Whitney, tocome armed with a warrant for John or Jane Doe. Please see that theWainwrights, particularly Marian, are present. You can tell InspectorO'Connor that Mr. Vanderdyke and Mrs. Ralston are required as materialwitnesses--anything so long as you are sure that these five persons arepresent. Good night, gentlemen."

  We rode back to the city in silence, but as we neared the station,Kennedy remarked: "You see, Walter, these people are like thenewspapers. They are floundering around in a sea of unrelated facts.There is more than they think back of this crime. I've been revolvingin my mind how it will be possible to get some inkling about thisconcession of Vanderdyke's, the mining claim of Mrs. Ralston, and theexact itinerary of the Wainwright trip in the Far East. Do you thinkyou can get that information for me? I think it will take me all dayto-morrow to isolate this poison and get things in convincing shape onthat score. Meanwhile if you can see Vanderdyke and Mrs. Ralston youcan help me a great deal. I am sure you will find them very interestingpeople."

  "I have been told that she is quite a female high financier," I replied,tacitly accepting Craig's commission. "Her story is that her claim issituated near the mine of a group of powerful American capitalists, whoare opposed to having any competition, and on the strength of thatstory she has been raking in the money right and left. I don't knowVanderdyke, never heard of him before, but no doubt he has some equallyinteresting game."

  "Don't let them think you connect them with the case, however,"cautioned Craig.

  Early the next morning I started out on my quest for facts, though notso early but that Kennedy had preceded me to his work in his laboratory.It was not very difficult to get Mrs. Ralston to talk about her troubleswith the government. In fact, I did not even have to broach the subjectof the death of Templeton. She volunteered the information that in hishandling of her case he had been very unjust to her, in spite of thefact that she had known him well a long time ago. She even hinted thatshe believed he represented the combination of capitalists whowere using the government to aid their own monopoly and prevent thedevelopment of her mine. Whether it was an obsession of her mind,or merely part of her clever scheme, I could not make out. I noted,however, that when she spoke of Templeton it was in a studied,impersonal way, and that she was at pains to lay the blame for thegovernmental interference rather on the rival mine-owners.

  It quite surprised me when I found from the directory that Vanderdyke'soffice was on the floor below in the same building. Like Mrs. Ralston's,it was open, but not doing business, pending the investigation by thePost-Office Department.

  Vanderdyke was a type of which I had seen many before. Well dressed tothe extreme, he displayed all those evidences of prosperity which arethe stock in trade of the man with securities to sell. He graspedmy hand when I told him I was going to present the other side of thepost-office cases and held it between both of his as if he had known meall his life. Only the fact that he had never seen me before preventedhis calling me by my first name. I took mental note of his stock ofjewellery, the pin in his tie that might almost have been the Hopediamond, the heavy watch chain across his chest, and a very brilliantseal ring of lapis lazuli on the hand that grasped mine. He saw melooking at it and smiled.

  "My dear fellow, we have deposits of that stuff that would make afortune if we could get the machinery to get at it. Why, sir, there islapis lazuli enough on our claim to make enough ultramarine paint tosupply all the artists to the end of the world. Actually we could affordto crush it up and sell it as paint. And that is merely incidental tothe other things on the concession. The asphalt's the thing. That'swhere the big money is. When we get started, sir, the old asphalt trustwill simply melt away, melt away."

  He blew a cloud of tobacco smoke and let it dissolve significantly inthe air.

  When it came to talking about the suits, however, Vanderdyke was notso communicative as Mrs. Ralston, but he was also not so bitter againsteither the post-office or Templeton.

  "Poor Templeton," he said. "I used to know him years ago when we wereboys. Went to school with him and all that sort of thing, you know,but until I ran across him, or rather he ran across me, in thisinvestigation I hadn't heard much about him. Pretty clever fellow hewas, too. The state will miss him, but my lawyer tells me that weshould have won the suit anyhow, even if that unfortunate tragedy
hadn'toccurred. Most unaccountable, wasn't it? I've read about it in thepapers for old time's sake, and can make nothing out of it."

  I said nothing, but wondered how he could pass so lightheartedly overthe death of the woman who had once been his wife. However, I saidnothing. The result was he launched forth again on the riches of hisVenezuelan concession and loaded me down with "literature," which Icrammed into my pocket for future reference.

  My next step was to drop into the office of a Spanish-America paperwhose editor was especially well informed on South American affairs.

  "Do I know Mrs. Ralston?" he repeated, thoughtfully lighting one ofthose black cigarettes that look so vicious and are so mild. "I shouldsay so. I'll tell you a little story about her. Three or four yearsago she turned up in Caracas. I don't know who Mr. Ralston was--perhapsthere never was any Mr. Ralston. Anyhow, she got in with the officialcircle of the Castro government and was very successful as anadventuress. She has considerable business ability and representeda certain group of Americans. But, if you recall, when Castro waseliminated pretty nearly everyone who had stood high with him went, too.It seems that a number of the old concessionaires played the game onboth sides. This particular group had a man named Vanderdyke on theanti-Castro side. So, when Mrs. Ralston went, she just quietly sailed byway of Panama to the other side of the continent, to Peru--they paid herwell--and Vanderdyke took the title role.

  "Oh, yes, she and Vanderdyke were very good friends, very, indeed. Ithink they must have known each other here in the States. Still theyplayed their parts well at the time. Since things have settled down inVenezuela, the concessionaires have found no further use for Vanderdykeeither, and here they are, Vanderdyke and Mrs. Ralston, both in New Yorknow, with two of the most outrageous schemes of financing ever seen onBroad Street. They have offices in the same building, they are togethera great deal, and now I hear that the state attorney-general is afterboth of them."

  With this information and a very meagre report of the Wainwright trip tothe Far East, which had taken in some out-of-the-way places apparently,I hastened back to Kennedy. He was surrounded by bottles, tubes, jars,retorts, Bunsen burners, everything in the science and art of chemistry,I thought.

  I didn't like the way he looked. His hand was unsteady, and his eyeslooked badly, but he seemed quite put out when I suggested that he wasworking too hard over the case. I was worried about him, but rather thansay anything to offend him I left him for the rest of the afternoon,only dropping in before dinner to make sure that he would not forget toeat something. He was then completing his preparations for the evening.They were of the simplest kind, apparently. In fact, all I could see wasan apparatus which consisted of a rubber funnel, inverted and attachedto a rubber tube which led in turn into a jar about a quarter full ofwater. Through the stopper of the jar another tube led to a tank ofoxygen.

  There were several jars of various liquids on the table and a numberof chemicals. Among other things was a sort of gourd, encrusted with ablack substance, and in a corner was a box from which sounds issued asif it contained something alive.

  I did not trouble Kennedy with questions, for I was only too glad whenhe consented to take a brisk walk and join me in a thick porterhouse.

  It was a large party that gathered in Kennedy's laboratory that night,one of the largest he had ever had. Mr. and Mrs. Wainwright and MissMarian came, the ladies heavily veiled. Doctor Nott and Mr. Whitney wereamong the first to arrive. Later came Mr. Vanderdyke and last of allMrs. Ralston with Inspector O'Connor. Altogether it was an unwillingparty.

  "I shall begin," said Kennedy, "by going over, briefly, the facts inthis case."

  Tersely he summarised it, to my surprise laying great stress on theproof that the couple had been asphyxiated.

  "But it was no ordinary asphyxiation," he continued. "We have to deal inthis case with a poison which is apparently among the most subtle known.A particle of matter so minute as to be hardly distinguishable by thenaked eye, on the point of a needle or a lancet, a prick of the skinscarcely felt under any circumstances and which would pass quiteunheeded if the attention were otherwise engaged, and not all the powerin the world--unless one was fully prepared--could save the life of theperson in whose skin the puncture had been made."

  Craig paused a moment, but no one showed any evidence of being more thanordinarily impressed.

  "This poison, I find, acts on the so-called endplates of the muscles andnerves. It produces complete paralysis, but not loss of consciousness,sensation, circulation, or respiration until the end approaches. Itseems to be one of the most powerful sedatives I have ever heard of.When introduced in even a minute quantity it produces death finally byasphyxiation--by paralysing the muscles of respiration. This asphyxia iswhat so puzzled the coroner.

  "I will now inject a little of the blood serum of the victims into awhite mouse."

  He took a mouse from the box I had seen, and with a needle injected theserum. The mouse did not even wince, so lightly did he touch it, but aswe watched, its life seemed gently to ebb away, without pain and withoutstruggle. Its breath simply seemed to stop.

  Next he took the gourd I had seen on the table and with a knife scrapedoff just the minutest particle of the black licorice-like stuff thatencrusted it. He dissolved the particle in some alcohol and with asterilised needle repeated his experiment on a second mouse. The effectwas precisely similar to that produced by the blood on the first.

  It did not seem to me that anyone showed any emotion except possiblythe slight exclamation that escaped Miss Marian Wainwright. I fellto wondering whether it was prompted by a soft heart or a guiltyconscience.

  We were all intent on what Craig was doing, especially Doctor Nott, whonow broke in with a question.

  "Professor Kennedy, may I ask a question? Admitting that the first mousedied in an apparently similar manner to the second, what proof have youthat the poison is the same in both cases? And if it is the same can youshow that it affects human beings in the same way, and that enough ofit has been discovered in the blood of the victims to have caused theirdeath? In other words, I want the last doubt set aside. How do you knowabsolutely that this poison which you discovered in my office last nightin that black precipitate when you added the ether--how do you know thatit asphyxiated the victims?"

  If ever Craig startled me it was by his quiet reply. "I've isolatedit in their blood, extracted it, sterilised it, and I've tried it onmyself."

  In breathless amazement, with eyes riveted on Craig, we listened.

  "Altogether I was able to recover from the blood samples of both ofthe victims of this crime six centigrams of the poison," he pursued."Starting with two centigrams of it as a moderate dose, I injected itinto my right arm subcutaneously. Then I slowly worked my way upto three and then four centigrams. They did not produce any veryappreciable results other than to cause some dizziness, slight vertigo,a considerable degree of lassitude, and an extremely painful headacheof rather unusual duration. But five centigrams considerably improvedon this. It caused a degree of vertigo and lassitude that was mostdistressing, and six centigrams, the whole amount which I had recoveredfrom the samples of blood, gave me the fright of my life right here inthis laboratory this afternoon.

  "Perhaps I was not wise in giving myself so large an injection on a daywhen I was overheated and below par otherwise because of the strain Ihave been under in handling this case. However that may be, the addedcentigram produced so much more on top of the five centigrams previouslytaken that for a time I had reason to fear that that additionalcentigram was just the amount needed to bring my experiments to apermanent close.

  "Within three minutes of the time of injection the dizziness and vertigohad become so great as to make walking seem impossible. In anotherminute the lassitude rapidly crept over me, and the serious disturbanceof my breathing made it apparent to me that walking, waving my arms,anything, was imperative. My lungs felt glued up, and the muscles of mychest refused to work. Everything swam before my eyes, and I was soonreduced
to walking up and down the laboratory with halting steps, onlypreventing falling on the floor by holding fast to the edge of thistable. It seemed to me that I spent hours gasping for breath. Itreminded me of what I once experienced in the Cave of the Winds ofNiagara, where water is more abundant in the atmosphere than air. Mywatch afterward indicated only about twenty minutes of extreme distress,but that twenty minutes is one never to be forgotten, and I advise youall, if you ever are so foolish as to try the experiment, to remainbelow the five-centigram limit.

  "How much was administered to the victims, Doctor Nott, I cannot say,but it must have been a good deal more than I took. Six centigrams,which I recovered from these small samples, are only nine-tenths ofa grain. Yet you see what effect it had. I trust that answers yourquestion."

  Doctor Nott was too overwhelmed to reply.

  "And what is this deadly poison?" continued Craig, anticipating ourthoughts. "I have been fortunate enough to obtain a sample of it fromthe Museum of Natural History. It comes in a little gourd, or often acalabash. This is in a gourd. It is blackish brittle stuff encrustingthe sides of the gourd just as if it was poured in in the liquid stateand left to dry. Indeed, that is just what has been done by those whomanufacture this stuff after a lengthy and somewhat secret process."

  He placed the gourd on the edge of the table where we could all see it.I was almost afraid even to look at it.

  "The famous traveller, Sir Robert Schomburgh first brought it intoEurope, and Darwin has described it. It is now an article of commerceand is to be found in the United States Pharmacopoeia as a medicine,though of course it is used in only very minute quantities, as a heartstimulant."

  Craig opened a book to a place he had marked:

  "At least one person in this room will appreciate the local colour of alittle incident I am going to read--to illustrate what death from thispoison is like. Two natives of the part of the world whence it comeswere one day hunting. They were armed with blowpipes and quivers fullof poisoned darts made of thin charred pieces of bamboo tipped with thisstuff. One of them aimed a dart. It missed the object overhead, glancedoff the tree, and fell down on the hunter himself. This is how the othernative reported the result:

  "'Quacca takes the dart out of his shoulder. Never a word. Puts it inhis quiver and throws it in the stream. Gives me his blowpipe for hislittle son. Says to me good-bye for his wife and the village. Then helies down. His tongue talks no longer. No sight in his eyes. He foldshis arms. He rolls over slowly. His mouth moves without sound. I feelhis heart. It goes fast and then slow. It stops. Quacca has shot hislast woorali dart.'"

  We looked at each other, and the horror of the thing sank deep into ourminds. Woorali. What was it? There were many travellers in the room whohad been in the Orient, home of poisons, and in South America. Which onehad run across the poison?

  "Woorali, or curare," said Craig slowly, "is the well-known poison withwhich the South American Indians of the upper Orinoco tip their arrows.Its principal ingredient is derived from the Strychnos toxifera tree,which yields also the drug nux vomica."

  A great light dawned on me. I turned quickly to where Vanderdyke wassitting next to Mrs. Ralston, and a little behind her. His stony stareand laboured breathing told me that he had read the purport of Kennedy'sactions.

  "For God's sake, Craig," I gasped. "An emetic, quick--Vanderdyke."

  A trace of a smile flitted over Vanderdyke's features, as much as to saythat he was beyond our interference.

  "Vanderdyke," said Craig, with what seemed to me a brutal calmness,"then it was you who were the visitor who last saw Laura Wainwright andJohn Templeton alive. Whether you shot a dart at them I do not know. Butyou are the murderer."

  Vanderdyke raised his hand as if to assent. It fell back limp, and Inoted the ring of the bluest lapis lazuli.

  Mrs. Ralston threw herself toward him. "Will you not do something? Isthere no antidote? Don't let him die!" she cried.

  "You are the murderer," repeated Kennedy, as if demanding a finalanswer.

  Again the hand moved in confession, and he feebly moved the finger onwhich shone the ring.

  Our attention was centred on Vanderdyke. Mrs. Ralston, unobserved, wentto the table and picked up the gourd. Before O'Connor could stop hershe had rubbed her tongue on the black substance inside. It was only alittle bit, for O'Connor quickly dashed it from her lips and threw thegourd through the window, smashing the glass.

  "Kennedy," he shouted frantically, "Mrs. Ralston has swallowed some ofit."

  Kennedy seemed so intent on Vanderdyke that I had to repeat the remark.

  Without looking up, he said: "Oh, one can swallow it--it's strange,but it is comparatively inert if swallowed even in a pretty good-sizedquantity. I doubt if Mrs. Ralston ever heard of it before except byhearsay. If she had, she'd have scratched herself with it instead ofswallowing it."

  If Craig had been indifferent to the emergency of Vanderdyke before,he was all action now that the confession had been made. In an instantVanderdyke was stretched on the floor and Craig had taken out theapparatus I had seen during the afternoon.

  "I am prepared for this," he exclaimed quickly. "Here is the apparatusfor artificial respiration. Nott, hold that rubber funnel over his nose,and start the oxygen from the tank. Pull his tongue forward so it won'tfall down his throat and choke him. I'll work his arms. Walter, make atourniquet of your handkerchief and put it tightly on the muscles ofhis left arm. That may keep some of the poison in his arm from spreadinginto the rest of his body. This is the only antidote known--artificialrespiration."

  Kennedy was working feverishly, going through the motions of firstaid to a drowned man. Mrs. Ralston was on her knees beside Vanderdyke,kissing his hands and forehead whenever Kennedy stopped for a minute,and crying softly.

  "Schuyler, poor boy, I wonder how you could have done it. I was with himthat day. We rode up in his car, and as we passed through Williston hesaid he would stop a minute and wish Templeton luck. I didn't think itstrange, for he said he had nothing any longer against Laura Wainwright,and Templeton only did his duty as a lawyer against us. I forgave Johnfor prosecuting us, but Schuyler didn't, after all. Oh, my poor boy, whydid you do it? We could have gone somewhere else and started all overagain--it wouldn't have been the first time."

  At last came the flutter of an eyelid and a voluntary breath or two.Vanderdyke seemed to realise where he was. With a last supreme effort heraised his hand and drew it slowly across his face. Then he fell back,exhausted by the effort.

  But he had at last put himself beyond the reach of the law. There was notourniquet that would confine the poison now in the scratch across hisface. Back of those lack-lustre eyes he heard and knew, but could notmove or speak. His voice was gone, his limbs, his face, his chest,and, last, his eyes. I wondered if it were possible to conceive a moredreadful torture than that endured by a mind which so witnessed thedying of one organ after another of its own body, shut up, as it were,in the fulness of life, within a corpse.

  I looked in bewilderment at the scratch on his face. "How did he do it?"I asked.

  Carefully Craig drew off the azure ring and examined it. In that partwhich surrounded the blue lapis lazuli, he indicated a hollow point,concealed. It worked with a spring and communicated with a littlereceptacle behind, in such a way that the murderer could give the fatalscratch while shaking hands with his victim.

  I shuddered, for my hand had once been clasped by the one wearingthat poison ring, which had sent Templeton, and his fiancee and nowVanderdyke himself, to their deaths.