CHAPTER I. THE DISCOVERY
The radiance of a clear September morning lay over Vienna. The air wasso pure that the sky shone in brightest azure even where the city'sbuildings clustered thickest. On the outskirts of the town the raysof the awakening sun danced in crystalline ether and struck answeringgleams from the dew on grass and shrub in the myriad gardens of thesuburban streets.
It was still very early. The old-fashioned steeple clock on the churchof the Holy Virgin in Hietzing had boomed out six slow strokes but ashort time back. Anna, the pretty blonde girl who carried out the milkfor the dwellers in several streets of this aristocratic residentialsuburb, was just coming around the corner of the main street into aquiet lane. This lane could hardly be dignified by the name of street asyet, it was so very quiet. It had been opened and named scarcely a yearback and it was bordered mostly by open gardens or fenced-in buildinglots. There were four houses in this street, two by two opposite eachother, and another, an old-fashioned manor house, lying almost hidden inits great garden. But the quiet street could not presume to ownership ofthis last house, for the front of it opened on a parallel street, whichgave it its number. Only the garden had a gate as outlet onto our quietlane.
Anna stopped in front of this gate and pulled the bell. She had to waitfor some little time until the gardener's wife, who acted as janitress,could open the door. But Anna was not impatient, for she knew that itwas quite a distance from the gardener's house in the centre of thegreat stretch of park to the little gate where she waited. In a fewmoments, however, the door was opened and a pleasant-faced womanexchanged a friendly greeting with the girl and took the cans from her.
Anna hastened onward with her usual energetic step. The four houses inthat street were already served and she was now bound for the homes ofcustomers several squares away. Then her step slowed just a bit. Shewas a quiet, thoughtful girl and the lovely peace of this bright morningsank into her heart and made her rejoice in its beauty. All around herthe foliage was turning gently to its autumn glory of colouring and thedewdrops on the rich-hued leaves sparkled with an unusual radiance. Athrush looked down at her from a bough and began its morning song. Annasmiled up at the little bird and began herself to sing a merry tune.
But suddenly her voice died away, the colour faded from her flushedcheeks, her eyes opened wide and she stood as if riveted to the ground.With a deep breath as of unconscious terror she let the burden of themilk cans drop gently from her shoulder to the ground. In following thebird's flight her eyes had wandered to the side of the street, to theedge of one of the vacant lots, there where a shallow ditch separatedit from the roadway. An elder-tree, the great size of which attested itsage, hung its berry-laden branches over the ditch. And in front of thistree the bird had stopped suddenly, then fluttered off with the quickmovement of the wild creature surprised by fright. What the birdhad seen was the same vision that halted the song on Anna's lips andarrested her foot. It was the body of a man--a young and well-dressedman, who lay there with his face turned toward the street. And his facewas the white frozen face of a corpse.
Anna stood still, looking down at him for a few moments, in wide-eyedterror: then she walked on slowly as if trying to pull herself togetheragain. A few steps and then she turned and broke into a run. When shereached the end of the street, breathless from haste and excitement, shefound herself in one of the main arteries of traffic of the suburb, butowing to the early hour this street was almost as quiet as the lane shehad just left. Finally the frightened girl's eyes caught sight of thefigure of a policeman coming around the next corner. She flew to meethim and recognised him as the officer of that beat.
"Why, what is the matter?" he asked. "Why are you so excited?"
"Down there--in the lane, there's a dead man," answered the girl, gaspingfor breath.
"A dead man?" repeated the policeman gravely, looking at the girl. "Areyou sure he's dead?"
Anna nodded. "His eyes are all glassy and I saw blood on his back."
"Well, you're evidently very much frightened, and I suppose you don'twant to go down there again. I'll look into the matter, if you will goto the police station and make the announcement. Will you do it?"
"Yes, sir."
"All right, then, that will gain time for us. Good-bye, Miss Anna."
The man walked quickly down the street, while the girl hurried off inthe opposite direction, to the nearest police station, where she toldwhat she had seen.
The policeman reached his goal even earlier. The first glance told himthat the man lying there by the wayside was indeed lifeless. And the icystiffness of the hand which he touched showed him that life must havefled many hours back. Anna had been right about the blood also. The deadman lay on the farther side of the ditch, half down into it. His rightarm was bent under his body, his left arm was stretched out, and thestiffened fingers... they were slender white fingers... had sought forsomething to break his fall. All they had found was a tall stem of wildaster with its purple blossoms, which they were holding fast in thedeath grip. On the dead man's back was a small bullet-wound and aroundthe edges of it his light grey coat was stained with blood. His face wasdistorted in pain and terror. It was a nice face, or would have been,did it not show all too plainly the marks of dissipation in spite of thefact that the man could not have been much past thirty years old. He wasa stranger to the policeman, although the latter had been on this beatfor over three years.
When the guardian of the law had convinced himself that there wasnothing more to do for the man who lay there, he rose from his stoopingposition and stepped back. His gaze wandered up and down the quiet lane,which was still absolutely empty of human life. He stood there quietlywaiting, watching over the ghastly discovery. In about ten minutes thepolice commissioner and the coroner, followed by two roundsmen with alitter, joined the solitary watcher, and the latter could return to hispost.
The policemen set down their litter and waited for orders, while thecoroner and the commissioner bent over the corpse. There was nothingfor the physician to do but to declare that the unfortunate man had beendead for many hours. The bullet which struck him in the back had killedhim at once. The commissioner examined the ground immediately aroundthe corpse, but could find nothing that pointed to a struggle. Thereremained only to prove whether there had been a robbery as well as amurder.
"Judging from the man's position the bullet must have come from thatdirection," said the commissioner, pointing towards the cottages downthe lane.
"People who are killed by bullets may turn several times before theyfall," said a gentle voice behind the police officer. The voice seemedto suit the thin little man who stood there meekly, his hat in his hand.
The commissioner turned quickly. "Ah, are you there already, Muller?"he said, as if greatly pleased, while the physician broke in with theremark:
"That's just what I was about to observe. This man did not die soquickly that he could not have made a voluntary or involuntary movementbefore life fled. The shot that killed him might have come from anydirection."
The commissioner nodded thoughtfully and there was silence for afew moments. Muller--for the little thin man was none other than thecelebrated Joseph Muller, one of the most brilliant detectives in theservice of the Austrian police--looked down at the corpse carefully.He took plenty of time to do it and nobody hurried him. For nobody everhurried Muller; his well-known and almost laughable thoroughness andpedantry were too valuable in their results. It was a tradition in thepolice that Muller was to have all the time he wanted for everything. Itpaid in the end, for Muller made few mistakes. Therefore, his superiorthe police commissioner, and the coroner waited quietly while the littleman made his inspection of the corpse.
"Thank you," said Muller finally, with a polite bow to the commissioner,before he bent to brush away the dust on his knees.
"Well?" asked Commissioner Holzer.
Muller smiled an embarrassed smile as he replied:
"Well... I haven't found out anything yet except that
he is dead, andthat he has been shot in the back. His pockets may tell us somethingmore."
"Yes, we can examine them at once," said the commissioner. "I have beendelaying that for I wanted you here; but I had no idea that you wouldcome so soon. I told them to fetch you if you were awake, but doubtedyou would be, for I know you have had no sleep for forty-eight hours."
"Oh, I can sleep, at least with one eye, when I'm on the chase,"answered the detective. "So it's really only twenty-four hours, yousee." Muller had just returned from tracking down an aristocraticswindler whom he had found finally in a little French city and hadbrought back to a Viennese prison. He had returned well along in thepast night and Holzer knew that the tired man would need his rest.Still he had sent for Muller, who lived near the police station, forthe girl's report had warned him that this was a serious case. And inserious cases the police did not like to do without Muller's help.
And as usual when his work called him, Muller was as wide awake as ifhe had had a good night's sleep behind him. The interest of a newcase robbed him of every trace of fatigue. It was he alone--at his ownrequest--who raised the body and laid it on its back before he steppedaside to make way for the doctor.
The physician opened the dead man's vest to see whether the bullet hadpassed completely through the body. But it had not; there was not theslightest trace of blood upon the shirt.
"There's nothing more for me to do here, Muller," said the physician, ashe bowed to the commissioner and left the place.
Muller examined the pockets of the dead man.
"It's probably a case of robbery, too," remarked the commissioner. "Aman as well-dressed as this one is would be likely to have a watch."
"And a purse," added the detective. "But this man has neither--or atleast he has them no longer."
In the various pockets of the dead man's clothes Muller found thefollowing articles: a handkerchief, several tramway tickets, a penknife,a tiny mirror, and comb, and a little book, a cheap novel. He wrappedthem all in the handkerchief and put them in his own pocket. The deadman's coat had fallen back from his body during the examination, and asMuller turned the stiffened limbs a little he saw the opening of anotherpocket high up over the right hip of the trousers. The detective passedhis hand over the pocket and heard something rattle. Then he put hishand in the pocket and drew out a thin narrow envelope which he handedto the commissioner. Holzer looked at it carefully. It was made of verythin expensive paper and bore no address. But it was sealed, althoughnot very carefully, for the gummed edges were open in spots. It musthave been hastily closed and was slightly crushed as if it had beencarried in a clenched hand. The commissioner cut open the envelope withhis penknife. He gave an exclamation of surprise as he showed Muller thecontents. In the envelope there were three hundred-gulden notes.
The commissioner looked at Muller without a word, but the detectiveunderstood and shook his head. "No," he said calmly, "it may be a caseof robbery just the same. This pocket was not very easy to find, and themoney in it was safer than the dead man's watch and purse would be. Thatis, if he had a watch and purse--and he very probably had a watch," headded more quickly.
For Muller had made a little discovery. On the lower hem of the leftside of the dead man's waistcoat he saw a little lump, and feeling of ithe discovered that it was a watch key which had slipped down out ofthe torn pocket between the lining and the material of the vest. A sureproof that the dead man had had a watch, which in all probability hadbeen taken from him by his murderer. There was no loose change or smallbills to be found in any of the pockets, so that it was more than likelythat the dead man had had his money in a purse. It seemed to be a caseof murder for the sake of robbery. At least Muller and the commissionerbelieved it to be one, from what they had discovered thus far.
The police officer gave his men orders to raise the body and to takeit to the morgue. An hour later the unknown man lay in the bare room inwhich the only spot of brightness were the rays of the sun that creptthrough the high barred windows and touched his cold face and stiffenedform as with a pitying caress. But no, there was one other little spotof brightness in the silent place. It was the wild aster which the deadman's hand still held tightly clasped. The little purple flowers werequite fresh yet, and the dewdrops clinging to them greeted the kiss ofthe sun's rays with an answering smile.
The Case of the Lamp That Went Out Page 2