CHAPTER IV. SPEAK WELL OF THE DEAD
Meanwhile Pokorny and Mrs. Klingmayer had reached the police station andwere going upstairs to the rooms of the commissioner on service for theday. Like all people of her class, Mrs. Klingmayer stood in great aweand terror of anything connected with the police or the law generally.She crept slowly and tremblingly up the stairs behind the headbookkeeper and was very glad when she was left alone for a few minuteswhile Pokorny went in to see the commissioner. But as soon as his errandwas known, both the bookkeeper and his companion were led into theoffice of Head Commissioner Dr. von Riedau, who had charge of theHietzing murder case.
When Dr. von Riedau heard the reason of their coming, his interest wasimmediately aroused, and he pulled a chair to his side for the littlethin man with whom he had been talking when the two strangers wereushered in.
"Then you believe you could identify the murdered man?" asked thecommissioner.
"From the general description and the initials on his linen, I believeit must be Leopold Winkler," answered Pokorny. "Mrs. Klingmayer has notseen him since Monday morning, nor has she had any message from him. Heleft the office Monday afternoon at 6 o'clock and that was the last timethat we saw him. The only thing that makes me doubt his identity is thatthe paper reports that three hundred gulden were found in his pocket.Winkler never seemed to have money, and I do not understand how heshould have been in possession of such a sum."
"The money was found in the dead man's pockets," said the commissioner."And yet it may be Winkler, the man you know. Muller, will you order acab, please?"
"I have a cab waiting for me. But it only holds two," volunteeredPokorny.
"That doesn't matter, I'll sit on the box," answered the man addressedas Muller.
"You are going with us?" asked Pokorny.
"Yes, he will accompany you," replied the commissioner. "This isdetective Muller, sir. By a mere chance, he happened to be on hand totake charge of this case and he will remain in charge, although it maybe wasting his talents which we need for more difficult problems. If youor any one else have anything to tell us, it must be told only to meor to Muller. And before you leave to look at the body, I would liketo know whether the dead man owned a watch, or rather whether he had itwith him on the day of the murder."
"Yes, sir; he did have a watch, a gold watch," answered Mrs. Klingmayer.
Riedau looked at the bookkeeper, who nodded and said: "Yes, sir; Winklerhad a watch, a gold watch with a double case. It was a large watch, verythick. I happen to have noticed it by chance and also I happen to knowthat he had not had the watch for very long."
"Can you tell us anything more about the watch?" asked the commissionerof the landlady.
"Yes, sir; there was engraving on the outside cover, initials, and acrown on the other side."
"What were the initials?"
"I don't know that, sir; at least I'm not sure about it. There were somany twists and curves to them that I couldn't make them out. I thinkone of them was a W though, sir."
"The other was probably an L then."
"That might be, sir."
"The younger clerks in the office may be able to tell something moreabout the watch," said Pokorny, "for they were quite interested in itfor a while. It was a handsome watch and they were envious of Winkler'spossession of it. But he was so tactless in his boasting about it thatthey paid no further attention to him after the first excitement."
"You say he didn't have the watch long?"
"Since spring I think, sir."
"He brought it home on the 19th of March," interrupted Mrs. Klingmayer."I remember the day because it was my birthday. I pretended that he hadbrought it home to me for a present."
"Was he in the habit of making you presents?"
"Oh, no, sir; he was very close with his money, sir.
"Well, perhaps he didn't have much money to be generous with. Now tellme about his watch chain. I suppose he had a watch chain?"
Both the bookkeeper and the landlady nodded and the latter exclaimed:"Oh, yes, sir; I could recognise it in a minute."
"How?"
"It was broken once and Mr. Winkler mended it himself. I lent him mypliers and he bent the two links together with them. It didn't look verynice after that, but it was strong again. You could see the mark of thepliers easily."
"Why didn't he take the chain to the jeweler's to be fixed?" asked thecommissioner.
The woman smiled. "It wouldn't have been worth the money, sir; the chainwasn't real gold."
"But the watch was real, wasn't it?"
"Oh, yes, sir; that was real gold. I pawned it once for Mr. Winkler andthey gave me 24 gulden for it."
"One question more, did he have a purse? And did he have it with him onthe day of the murder?"
"Yes, sir; he had a purse, and he must have taken it with him because hedidn't leave it in his room."
"What sort of a purse was it?"
"A brown leather purse, sir."
"Was it a new one?"
"Oh, no, sir; it was well worn."
"How big was it? About like mine?" Riedau took out his own pocketbook.
"No, sir; it was a little smaller. It had three pockets in it. I mendedit for him once, so I know it well. I didn't have any brown thread so Imended it with yellow."
Dr. von Riedau nodded to Muller. The latter had been sitting at a littleside-table writing down the questions and answers. When Riedau saw thishe did not send for a clerk to do the work, for Muller preferred toattend to such matters himself as much as possible. The facts gained inthe examination were impressed upon his mind while he was writing them,and he did not have to wade through pages of manuscript to get at whathe needed. Now he handed his superior officer the paper.
"Thank you," said Riedau, "I'll send it out to the other policestations. I will attend to this myself. You go on with these people tosee whether they can identify the corpse."
Fifteen minutes later the three stood before the body in the morgue andboth the bookkeeper and his companion identified the dead man positivelyas Leopold Winkler.
When the identification was made, a notice was sent out to all Austrianpolice stations and to all pawnshops with an exact description of thestolen watch and purse.
Muller led his companions back to the commissioner's office and theymade their report to Dr. von Riedau. Upon being questioned further,Pokorny stated: "I had very little to do with Winkler. We met only whenhe had a report to make to me or to show me his books, and we never metoutside the office. The clerks who worked in the same room with him, mayknow him better. I know only that he was a very reserved man and verylittle liked."
"Then I do not need to detain you any longer, nor to trouble you furtherin this affair. I thank you for coming to us so promptly. It has been ofgreat assistance."
The bookkeeper left the station, but Mrs. Klingmayer, who was now quitereassured as to the harmlessness of the police, was asked to remainand to tell what she knew of the private life of the murdered man. Heranswers to the various questions put to her proved that she knew verylittle about her tenant. But this much was learned from her: that hewas very close with his money at times, but that again at other timeshe seemed to have all he wanted to spend. At such times he paid all hisdebts, and when he stayed home for supper, he would send her out forall sorts of expensive delicacies. These extravagant days seemed to havenothing whatever to do with Winkler's business pay day, but came at oddtimes.
Mrs. Klingmayer remembered two separate times when he had received apostal money order. But she did not know from whom the letters came,nor even whether they were sent from the city or from some other town.Winkler received other letters now and then, but his landlady was not ofthe prying kind, and she had paid very little attention to them.
He seemed to have few friends or even acquaintances. She did not knowof any love affair, at least of nothing "regular." He had remainedaway over night two or three times during the year that he had beenher tenant. This was about all that Mrs. Klingmayer cou
ld say, and shereturned to her home in a cab furnished her by the kind commissioner.
About two hours later, a police attendant announced that a gentlemanwould like to see Dr. von Riedan on business concerning the murder inHietzing. "Friedrich Bormann" was the name on the card.
"Ask him to step in here," said the commissioner. "And please ask Mr.Muller to join us."
The good-looking young clerk entered the office bashfully and Mullerslipped in behind him, seating himself inconspicuously by the door. At asign from the commissioner the visitor began. "I am an employee of Braun& Co. I have the desk next to Leopold Winkler, during the year that hehas been with us--the year and a quarter to be exact--"
"Ah, then you know him rather well?"
"Why, yes. At least we were together all day, although I never met himoutside the office."
"Then you cannot tell us much about his private life?"
"No, sir, but there was something happened on Monday, and in talking itover with Mr. Braun, he suggested that I should come to you and tell youabout it. It wasn't really very important, and it doesn't seem as if itcould have anything to do with this murder and robbery; still it may beof some use."
"Everything that would throw light on the dead man's life could be ofuse," said Dr. von Riedau. "Please tell us what it is you know."
Fritz Bormann began: "Winkler came to the office as usual on Mondaymorning and worked steadily at his desk. But I happened to notice thathe spoiled several letters and had to rewrite them, which showed methat his thoughts were not on his work, a frequent occurrence with him.However, everything went along as usual until 11 o'clock. Then Winklerbecame very uneasy. He looked constantly toward the door, compared hiswatch with the office clock, and sprang up impatiently as the specialletter carrier, who usually comes about 11 with money orders, finallyappeared."
"Then he was expecting money you think?"
"It must have been so. For as the letter carrier passed him, he calledout: 'Haven't you anything for me?' and as the man shook his headWinkler seemed greatly disappointed and depressed. Before he left to goto lunch, he wrote a hasty letter, which he put in his pocket.
"He came in half an hour later than the rest of us. He had often beenreprimanded for his lack of punctuality, but it seemed to do no good. Hewas almost always late. Monday was no exception, although he was laterthan usual that day."
"And what sort of a mood was he in when he came back?"
"He was irritable and depressed. He seemed to be awaiting a messagewhich did not come. His excitement hindered him from working, hescarcely did anything the entire afternoon. Finally at five o'clock amessenger boy came with a letter for him. I saw that Winkler turnedpale as he took the note in his hand. It seemed to be only a few wordswritten hastily on a card, thrust into an envelope. Winkler's teeth wereset as he opened the letter. The messenger had already gone away."
"Did you notice his number?" asked Dr. von Riedau.
"No, I scarcely noticed the man at all. I was looking at Winkler, whosebehaviour was so peculiar. When he read the card his face brightened.He read it through once more, then he tore both card and envelope intolittle bits and threw the pieces out of the open window.
"Then he evidently did not want anybody to see the contents of thisnote," said a voice from the corner of the room.
Fritz Bormann looked around astonished and rather doubtful at the littleman who had risen from his chair and now came forward. Without waitingfor an answer from the clerk, the other continued: "Did Winkler havemoney sent him frequently?"
Bormann looked inquiringly at the commissioner, who replied with asmile: "You may answer. Answer anything that Mr. Muller has to ask ofyou, as he is in charge of this case."
"As far as I can remember, it happened three times," was Bormann'sanswer.
"How close together?"
"Why--about once in every three or four months, I think."
"That looks almost like a regular income," exclaimed Riedau. His eyesmet Muller's, which were lit up in sudden fire. "Well, what are youthinking of?" asked the commissioner.
"A woman," answered Muller; and continued more as if thinking aloud thanas if addressing the others: "Winkler was a good-looking man. Might henot have had a rich love somewhere? Might not the money have come fromher, the money that was found in his pocket?" Muller's voice trailedoff into indistinctness at the last words, and the fire died out of hiseyes. Then he laughed aloud.
The commissioner smiled also, a good-natured smile, such as one wouldgive to a child who has been over-eager. "It doesn't matter to us wherethe money came from. All that matters here is where the bullet camefrom--the bullet which prevented his enjoying this money. And it isof more interest to us to find out who robbed him of his life and hisproperty, rather than the source from which this property came."
The commissioner's tone was friendly, but Muller's face flushed red, andhis head dropped. Riedau turned to Bormann and continued: "And becauseit is of no interest to us where his money came from--for it canhave nothing whatever to do with his murder and the subsequentrobbery--therefore what you noticed of his behaviour cannot be of anyimportance or bearing in the case in any way. Unless, indeed, you shouldfind out anything more. But we appreciate the thoughtfulness of yourselfand your employer and your readiness to help us."
Bormann rose to leave, but the commissioner put out a hand to stop him."A few moments more, please; you may know of something else that willbe of assistance to us. We have heard that Winkler boasted of hisbelongings--did he talk about his private affairs in any way?"
"No, sir, I do not think he did."
"You say that he destroyed the note at once, evidently realising that noone must see it--this note may have been a promise for the money whichhad not yet come. Did he, however, tell any one later that he expected acertain sum? Do you think he would have been likely to tell any one?"
"No, I do not think that he would tell any one. He never mentionedto any of us that he had received money, or even that he expected toreceive it. None of us knew what outside resources he might have, orwhence they came. If it had not been that the money was paid him by thecarrier in the office two or three times--so, that we could see it--wewould none of us have known of this income, except for the fact that hewas freer in spending after the money came. He would dine at expensiverestaurants, and this fact he would mention to us, whereas at othertimes he would go to the cheap cafe."
"Do you know anything about the people he was acquainted with outsidethe office?"
"No, sir. I seldom met him outside of the office. One evening it didhappen that I saw him at Ronacher's. He was there with a lady--that is,a so-called 'lady'--and it must have been one of the times that he hadmoney, for they were enjoying an expensive supper. At other times, someof the other clerks met him at various resorts, always with the samesort of woman. But not always with the same woman, for they weredifferent in appearance."
"He was never seen anywhere with other men?"
"No, sir; at least not by any of us."
"He was not liked in the office?"
"No." Bormann's answer was sharp.
"For what reason?"
"I don't know; we just didn't like him. We had very little to do withhim at first because of this, and soon we noticed that he seemed just asanxious to avoid us as we were to avoid him."
The commissioner rose and Bormann followed his example. "I am verysorry, sir, if I have taken up your time to no purpose," said the lattermodestly, as he took up his hat.
"I am not so sure that what you have said may not be of great value tous," said a voice behind them. Muller stood there, looking at Riedauwith a glance almost of defiance. His eyes were again lit up withthe strange fire that shone in them when he was on the trail. Thecommissioner shrugged his shoulders, bowed to the departing visitor, andthen turned without an answer to some documents on his desk. There wassilence in the room for a few moments. Finally a gentle voice came fromMuller's corner again: "Dr. von Riedau?"
The commissioner raised
his head and looked around. "Oh, are you stillthere?" he asked with a drawl.
Muller knew what this drawl meant. It was the manner adopted by theamiable commissioner when he was in a mood which was not amiable. AndMuller knew also the cause of the mood. It was his own last remark, thewords he addressed to Bormann. Muller himself recognised the factthat this remark was out of place, that it was almost an impertinence,because it was in direct contradiction to a statement made a few momentsbefore by his superior officer. Also he realised that his remark hadbeen quite unnecessary, because it was a matter of indifference to theyoung man, who was only obeying his employer's orders in reporting whathe had seen, whether his report was of value or not. Muller had simplyuttered aloud the thought that came into his mind, a habit of his whichyears of official training had not yet succeeded in breaking. It wasannoying to himself sometimes, for these half-formed thoughts were mereinstinct--they were the workings of his own genius that made him catcha suspicion of the truth long before his conscious mind could reason itout or appreciate its value. But that sort of thing was not popular inofficial police life.
"Well," asked the commissioner, as Muller did not continue, "your tongueis not usually so slow--as you have proved just a few moments back--whatwere you going to say now?"
"I was about to ask your pardon for my interruption. It was unnecessary,I should not have said it."
"Well, I realise that you know better yourself," said Riedau, now quitefriendly again, "and now what else have you to say? Do you really thinkthat what the young man has just told us is of any value at all for thiscase?"
"It seems to me as if it might be of value to us."
"Oh, it seems to you, eh? Your imagination is working overtime again,Muller," said the commissioner with a laugh. But the laugh turned toseriousness as he realised how many times Muller's imaginationhad helped the clumsy official mind to its proudest triumphs. Thecommissioner was an intelligent man, as far as his lights went, and hewas a good-hearted man. He rose from his chair and walked over to wherethe detective stood. "You needn't look so embarrassed, Muller," he said."There is no cause for you to feel bad about it. And--I am quite willingto admit that my remark just now was unnecessary. You may give yourimagination full rein, we can trust to your intelligence and yourdevotion to duty to keep it from unnecessary flights. So curbed, I knowit will be of as much assistance to us this time as it always has been."
Muller's quiet face lit up, and his eyes shone in a happiness that madehim appear ten years younger. That was one of the strange things aboutJoseph Muller. This genius in his profession was in all other ways aman of such simplicity of heart and bearing, that the slightest word ofapproval from one of the officials for whom he worked could make him ashappy as praise from the teacher will make a schoolboy. The moments whenhe was in command of any difficult case, when these same superiors wouldwait for a word from him, when high officials would take his orders orwould be obliged to acknowledge that without him they were helpless,these moments were forgotten as soon as the problem was solved andMuller became again the simple subordinate and the obscure member of theImperial police force.
When Muller left the commissioner's room and walked through theouter office, one of the clerks looked after him and whispered to hiscompanion: "Do you think he's found the Hietzing murderer yet?" Theother answered: "I don't think so, but he looks as if he had found aclue. He'll find him sooner or later. He always does."
Muller did not hear these words, although they also would have pleasedhim. He walked slowly down the stairs murmuring to himself: "I think Iwas right just the same. We are following a false trail."
The Case of the Lamp That Went Out Page 5