Minute Mysteries [Detectograms] Chapter 6: Part 6

letting out, so I suppose he mingled with the crowd and escaped,’ Taylor concluded. ‘Are you insured against this loss of eight thousand dollars?’ inquired Fordney. ‘Yes.’ ‘Could you see the color of the bandit’s hair?’ ‘It was blond.’ ‘Anything unusual about him?’ ‘No. Except that he was constantly clearing his throat in a peculiar manner,’ replied Taylor. ‘Left- or right-handed?’ ‘Why—I’m not sure. Right-handed, though, I think.’ ‘This has gone far enough, Taylor,’ said Fordney sharply. ‘The robbery was obviously framed by you.’ How did Fordney know Taylor had faked the hold-up? 28 _Accidental Death_ Returning to town late one night, Professor Fordney was driving along an unfrequented road when the sight of a motor-cycle policeman examining a car in a ditch caused him to stop and offer his services. Joining the policeman, he found that a man, obviously the driver, had been thrown through the windshield and was lying about six feet from the car. His examination disclosed that the man had been terribly cut about the head. The jugular vein was completely severed. The bent steering-wheel, shattered glass, and the blood on the front seat and floor of the car were mute evidence of the tragedy. Fordney also noted the speedometer had stopped at 62. A search of the body revealed nothing unusual except that the man wore only one glove. The other could not be found. The Professor was pondering this when the policeman handed him his report of accidental death, saying, ‘Is that how you see it, sir?’ ‘I think,’ replied Fordney slowly, ‘you’d better change that to murder. In the absence of any further evidence, it seems to be pretty clearly indicated.’ ‘Murder!’ exclaimed the bewildered policeman. ‘I don’t understand how you make that out.’ After explaining his reason and with a final admonition to continue a careful search for the missing glove, the Professor returned to his car and drove down the wide, smooth highway toward home and a good night’s rest. Fordney’s deduction was confirmed when the missing glove and the murderer were found. How had he arrived at his startling conclusion? 29 _Easy Money_ ‘Mr. Walker hurried into the kitchen,’ said the valet to Professor Fordney, ‘and told me he was called away unexpectedly and that I was to go to his library and take the money he had won last night to the bank. ‘I was busy,’ he continued, ‘but in about five minutes I went through the hall, and, thinking I heard a noise, I stopped and listened at the study door. There was someone moving about. The door was open. As I peered around it, I saw a masked man, gun in hand, hesitating near the fireplace. ‘Then he went over to the table in the center of the room, picked up the stacks of ten- and twenty-dollar bills, and left by the window. I called the police immediately and gave them a description.’ ‘Exactly what time was that?’ asked Fordney. ‘Just about ten o’clock, sir.’ ‘Had you been in the library before that, this morning?’ ‘No, I hadn’t.’ ‘Were you in your master’s room today?’ ‘No. What’s that got to do with it?’ ‘Nothing,’ murmured Fordney, ‘nothing at all! Does your master gamble often?’ ‘I don’t think so.’ ‘How much did he win last night?’ ‘He didn’t say.’ ‘Humph,’ said Fordney, as he pointed to a bill on the floor, ‘the thief dropped one. ‘I see your master has quite a library,’ he continued, glancing around the large, beautifully furnished room. ‘Do you read much, Wilkins?’ ‘A bit, sir.’ ‘Did you ever read, “Honesty is the best policy”?’ Why did the Professor think Wilkins had robbed his master? 30 _Robbery at High Noon_ ‘I wonder who had the nerve to commit such a robbery at high noon,’ mused Professor Fordney as he examined the safe, seventeen minutes after it had been rifled. ‘Same old story: no finger-prints, no evidence.’ ‘Found anything?’ asked Lawson nervously as he entered his drawing-room. ‘Not yet. Are you here alone, Lawson?’ ‘No. John, my nephew, is staying with me. Everyone else is in town.’ ‘Where is he now?’ ‘Oh, he left about an hour ago.’ At 3.20 P.M. Fordney noticed Jones, the gardener, working at the edge of a flower-bed. He kept looking furtively at the house while he frantically covered over the hole he had dug. Finishing, he hurriedly walked toward the boat-landing. Fordney, following, reached the dock just as John guided his motor-boat in. ‘Have a nice day?’ asked Fordney. ‘Yep. Had a grand run up the lakes.’ ‘Where were you when your uncle’s safe was robbed?’ ‘Boy, I was hauling in a big muskie! What a battle he gave me! See him in the end of the boat? Isn’t he a beauty?’ ‘When did you return?’ demanded Fordney of the gardener. ‘I don’t know what time it was,’ he replied nervously, glancing at John. ‘You must have some idea.’ ‘Well, it was about noon,’ he reluctantly answered. ‘By the way, John, do you know the combination of your uncle’s safe?’ inquired Fordney. ‘Is that old weasel accusing me?’ ‘No, he isn’t. But I’ve got my suspicions!’ Whom did Fordney suspect and why? 31 _The Wrong Foot Forward_ ‘The witness says,’ explained the interpreter, ‘that as the car came to a sudden stop the conductor ran to the front and yelled to the motorman, “You’ve done it again."’ The little foreigner on the witness stand looked bewildered and frightened. ‘He further says that there were two sailors on the car and that they jumped off and ran.’ ‘Have they been located yet?’ inquired the Judge. ‘No, Your Honor; we’ve been unable to trace them, although the conductor gave a good description,’ replied counsel. ‘Proceed.’ The interpreter continued. ‘Paslovsky, the witness, declares he had a clear view of the plaintiff when he got off. He states that just as the plaintiff put his foot on the ground, with his back to the front of the car, it gave a sudden start and he was thrown to the road.’ ‘Can’t the witness understand or speak enough English to tell the court about that?’ asked the Judge. ‘No, Your Honor; he’s been in this country only two weeks.’ ‘How can he get about at that hour of night alone, then?’ ‘Some friends put him on the car and telephoned the people with whom he lives to meet him at the end of the line,’ replied counsel for the plaintiff. ‘Continue.’ ‘Paslovsky,’ declared the interpreter, ‘says he picked up this picture from the floor of the car—a snapshot of a sailor and a girl.’ ‘Case dismissed,’ thundered the Judge, ‘and don’t ever bring another like that into this court.’ ‘Why was His Honor justified in so abruptly dismissing the suit for damages?’ asked Professor Fordney of his class in criminology. 32 _Death Attends the Party_ ‘He had a big party last night,’ said Graves, the valet. ‘Certainly looks like it,’ retorted Professor Fordney, as he surveyed the crazily balanced glasses, overflowing ash-trays, and liquor rings on the small, fragile antique table at which Carlton Dawes sat. ‘It was awful, sir. Just as I turned to say “good night” to him, he lifted his revolver, fired and toppled over.’ ‘Funny,’ mused Fordney. ‘He had everything to live for.’ ‘Everything but the thing he wanted,’ replied the valet. ‘Madeline, his former wife, was here last night. He is always despondent after seeing her.’ ‘Well, Graves, pretty nice for you, eh? How much did he leave you?’ ‘Ten thousand dollars, sir.’ Fordney leaned over to examine the wound in Dawes’s left temple. His head rested on the edge of the table, his right hand on his knee and his left hung lifelessly at his side. ‘Anything been touched since the tragedy?’ ‘No, sir.’ Fordney picked up Dawes’s revolver where it had apparently fallen from his hand. After examining it and finding only the dead man’s finger-prints, he laid it on the table. As he did so, Madeline entered the room. She stopped, horrified. ‘What—what—has happened?’ ‘Where did you come from?’ demanded Fordney. ‘I’ve been upstairs. I didn’t leave with the guests.’ ‘Humph—you should have,’ as he shot her a quizzical look. ‘Your presence may prove embarrassing. Your ex-husband was murdered.’ Madeline slipped to the floor in a dead faint. What convinced Fordney it was murder? 33 _No Way Out_ On a battered desk in the small, dark room lay a penciled note in handwriting resembling that of the dead man: Dear John: You know the trouble I’m in. There’s only one way out and I’m taking it. You’re my pal and will understand. Good luck. (Signed) Paul The only other furniture consisted of the chair in which Paul Morrow had been found with his throat cut, a bed, and a highly ornate and apparently brand-new waste-basket. It had been definitely established that the dead man had not left the room during the twenty-four hours before he was discovered. Finishing his examination of the contents of the man’s pockets—two twenty-dollar bills, a cheap watch, and an expensive wallet in which there was a picture of a beautiful woman—Fordney turned his attention to the meager inventory of the room. ‘That’s all we can find,’ said Inspector Kelley, indicating a dictionary, scraps of a letter in a feminine handwriting found in the ornate waste-basket, a pen, some cheap stationery, a few clothes, pipe and tobacco, and a bloody, razor-sharp knife. ‘Certainly has all the appearances of suicide,’ he continued. ‘This door was locked and no one could have left by that window. What do you make of it, Fordney?’ The Professor didn’t reply at once. He picked up the photograph, studied it a moment, and then, with a slow, searching look around the small room, said: ‘Better try to piece those bits of letter together. This isn’t suicide; it’s murder.’ ‘I believe you’re right,’ exclaimed Kelley, with dawning comprehension. What brought Fordney to this conclusion? 34 _Midnight Murder_ ‘Who are you, and what’s this all about?’ demanded Inspector Kelley, as he and Professor Fordney arrived at the apartment in answer to a call. ‘I’m Jack Day. I share this apartment with Al Quale. I returned from the theater, shortly after midnight, went into his room, and found him lying there on the bed. When I saw he was dead, I called Headquarters at once. God, this is terrible!’ ‘Those your things on the bed?’ asked Kelley, indicating a blood-stained muffler, a hat, gloves, and cane. ‘Yes, I tossed them there before I rushed to the telephone. Got that blood on the muffler when I bent over him.’ ‘What time did you leave here this evening?’ ‘Shortly before seven,’ replied Day. ‘Can you prove you were at the theater all evening?’ demanded Kelley. ‘Why, yes, I went with a friend.’ ‘He’s