The Dragon Murder Case

by S. S. Van Dine

  Vance stretched his legs and settled even deeper into his chair.

  “Mrs. Stamm’s prognostications of the second tragedy were merely another effort toward foisting the dragon theory upon us. She undoubtedly suspected that her son, having succeeded in murdering Montague, would, if the opportunity presented itself, also put Greeff out of the way. I imagine she knew all about Greeff’s financial plottings, and sensed Stamm’s hatred for him. She may even have seen, or heard, her son and Greeff go down toward the pool last night and have anticipated the terrible thing that was going to happen. You recall how frantically she endeavored to bolster up her theory of the dragon when she heard of Greeff’s disappearance. I had a suspicion then that she knew more than she would admit. That was why I went directly to the pot-holes to see if Greeff’s body was there... Oh, yes, that tortured old woman knew of her son’s guilt. When she begged Leland to bring him back into the house this afternoon, saying that some danger was lurking in the pool, it wasn’t a premonition. It was only her instinctive fear that some retribution might overtake her son at the scene of his crimes.”

  “And it did overtake him,” mumbled Markham. “A curious coincidence.”

  “He sure had it coming to him,” put in the practical Sergeant. “But what gets me is the trouble he took to avoid leaving footprints.”

  “Stamm had to protect himself, Sergeant,” Vance explained. “Any noticeable imprints of his diving shoes would have given away the entire plot. Therefore, he took the precaution of placing a board over that patch of ground.”

  “But he took no precaution against his footprints on the bottom of the pool,” Markham submitted.

  “True,” Vance returned. “It had not occurred to him, I imagine, that the imprints he made under the water would remain; for he was certainly a frightened man when the marks of his diving shoes came to light: he was afraid they would be recognized for what they were. I admit that the truth did not occur to me at the time. But, later, a suspicion of the truth dawned on me; and that is why I wished to verify my theory by searching for a diving suit and shoes and gloves. There are but few companies that make standard diving equipment in this country, and I had little trouble in locating the firm from which Stamm had acquired his outfit.”

  “But what about Leland?” Markham asked. “Surely he would have recognized the tracks.”

  “Oh, to be sure. In fact, the moment I mentioned those strange tracks to him, he suspected immediately how they had been made; and when he saw Snitkin’s drawings he knew the truth. I think he rather hoped that we also would see it, although he could not bring himself to tell us directly because of his loyalty to Bernice Stamm. Miss Stamm herself suspected the truth—you recall how upset she was when I mentioned the queer footprints to her. And Mrs. Stamm, too, knew the significance of those imprints when she heard of them. But she very cleverly turned them to her own purpose and used them to support the theory of the dragon that she was endeavorin’ to instil in us.”

  Markham filled his glass.

  “That part of it is all clear,” he said, after a short silence. “But there are certain points connected with Greeff’s murder that I don’t yet understand.”

  Vance did not speak at once. First he lighted a fresh cigarette slowly and meditatively. Then he said:

  “I can’t make up my mind, Markham, whether Greeff’s murder was planned for this particular week-end, or was suddenly decided on. But the possibility unquestionably was at the back of Stamm’s mind when he planned the party. There can be no doubt that he detested Greeff and also feared him; and, with his perverted mind, he saw no way of eliminating the menace presented by Greeff except through murder. What led Stamm to his decision to do away with Greeff last night was undoubtedly the amazin’ amount of dragon talk that followed the finding of the imprints on the bottom of the pool, and the claw-like tears down Montague’s chest. He saw no reason why he should not continue to build up this outlandish theory of the dragon. As long as the circumstances of Montague’s death appeared entirely irrational and fantastic, Stamm, no doubt, felt safe from apprehension; and in this state of false security, he sought to repeat the irrationality of Montague’s death in Greeff’s murder. He argued, I imagine, that if he were safe from suspicion as a result of the dragonish implications in Montague’s murder, he would be equally safe from suspicion if Greeff were disposed of in a similar manner. That’s why he duplicated the technique so carefully. He struck Greeff over the head to make a wound similar to the one on Montague. He then strangled Greeff, in order to reproduce the throat marks; and, that accomplished, he used the grapnel on Greeff’s chest, thus reproducing the supposed dragon’s claw-marks. He then carried the murder to its logical extreme—or, rather, to its reductio ad absurdum—by chucking the fellow into the pot-hole.”

  “I can see how his mind was working,” Markham admitted. “But in Greeff’s case he had to create the opportunity for the crime.”

  “Quite so. But that wasn’t difficult. After Stamm’s vicious outburst Saturday night, Greeff was only too glad to accept the reconciliation Stamm offered him last night in the library. You recall that Leland told us they sat for hours talking amicably before retiring. What they probably talked about was the prospect of a new expedition, and Greeff was delighted to be able to offer his help. Then, when they had gone up-stairs, Stamm undoubtedly invited Greeff into his own room for a last drink, later suggesting that they go for a walk to continue the discussion; and the two went out together. It was at that time that both Leland and Trainor heard the side door being unbolted.”

  Vance again sipped his champagne.

  “How Stamm inveigled Greeff into the vault is something we’ll never know. However, it’s a point of no importance, for certainly Greeff was in a frame of mind to acquiesce in any suggestion Stamm might have made. Stamm may have told Greeff that he was able to explain Montague’s death if the other would go into the vault with him. Or, it may have been a more commonplace invitation—the expression of a desire to inspect the masonry after the heavy rains. But whatever the means used by Stamm, we know that Greeff did enter the vault with him last night...”

  “The gardenia, of course—and the bloodstains,” Markham murmured.

  “Oh, yes; it was quite evident... And after Stamm had killed Greeff and mutilated him exactly as he had mutilated Montague, he took him down to the pot-holes in the wheelbarrow, over the sandy ground along the foot of the cliff, where he would not attract the attention of any guard that might have been stationed on the East Road.”

  Heath gave a gratified grunt.

  “And then he left the wheelbarrow in that bunch of trees, and pussy-footed back to the house.”

  “Exactly, Sergeant. Moreover, the grating metallic noise that Leland heard was obviously the creaking of the rusty hinges of the vault door; and the other sound which Leland described could have been nothing but the wheelbarrow. And, despite all Stamm’s caution on re-entering the house, both Leland and Trainor heard him throw the bolt.”

  Vance sighed.

  “It was not a perfect murder, Markham, but it had the elements of perfection in it. It was a bold murder, too; for if either of the murders were solved, both would be solved. It was a double gamble—the placing of two chips, instead of one, on a selected number.”

  Again Markham nodded sombrely.

  “That part is clear enough now,” he said. “But why should the key to the vault have been found in Tatum’s room?”

  “That was part of Stamm’s fundamental mistake. As I have said, Stamm was overcautious. He didn’t have the courage to carry through his plot without building bridges. He may have had the key for years, or he may have secured it recently from Mrs. Stamm’s trunk. But really, it doesn’t matter. Once he had used it for his purpose, he could not throw it away, for obviously he intended to remove the diving suit from the vault when the first opportunity offered. He could have hidden the key in the meantime; but if the diving suit had been discovered in the vault by some one’s tearing dow
n a wall or breaking in the door, suspicion would immediately have fallen on him, as it was his own diving suit. Therefore, in an effort to protect himself in this remote eventuality, he probably put the key first in Greeff’s room, to point suspicion to Greeff. Then, when the opportunity to murder Greeff arose, Stamm planted the key in Tatum’s room. Stamm liked Leland and wanted Bernice to marry him—which, incidentally, was the primary motive for his getting rid of Montague—and he certainly would not have tried to throw suspicion on Leland. You will remember that I first searched Greeff’s room—I thought that the key might be there, inasmuch as there was a possibility we would think that Greeff had merely run away. But when it was not there I looked for it in Tatum’s room. Luckily we found it and didn’t have to break into the vault—which I would certainly have insisted upon if there had been no other means of entering.”

  “But what I still don’t understand, Vance,” Markham persisted, “is why the key should have interested you in the first place.”

  “Neither do I—entirely,” Vance returned, “And it’s much too hot tonight to indulge in psychological analyses of my mental quirks. Let’s say, for brevity, that my idea about the key was mere guesswork. As you know, the vault fascinated me because of its strategic position; and I couldn’t see how else the first murder could have been so neatly accomplished unless the vault had been used in some way. It was most convenient, don’t y’ know. But the entire matter was far from clear in my mind. In fact, it was dashed vague. However, I thought it worth determining, and that’s why I went to Mrs. Stamm and demanded to know the hiding-place of the key. I frightened her into telling me, for she didn’t associate the vault with Stamm’s machinations. When I discovered that the key had disappeared from its hiding-place, I was more convinced than ever that it was a factor in the solution of our problem.”

  “But how, in the name of Heaven,” asked Markham, “did you first hit upon the idea that Stamm was the guilty person? He was the only person in the house that seemed to have a good alibi.”

  Vance shook his head slowly.

  “No, Markham old dear; he was the only member of the party who did not have an alibi. And it was for that reason that I had my eye on him from the first—although I admit there were other possibilities. Stamm, of course, thought that he had built up a perfect alibi, at the same time hoping that the murder would pass as a mere departure. But when Montague’s murder was established, Stamm’s position was really weaker than that of any of the others; for he was the only one who was not standing beside the pool at the time Montague dived in. It would have been difficult for any one of the others to have murdered Montague in the circumstances, just as it would have been impossible for Stamm to have murdered him if he had actually been in a state of acute alcoholism. It was this combination of circumstances that gave me my first inkling of the truth. Naturally, Stamm couldn’t have gone to the pool with the others and still have accomplished his purpose; and, reasoning from this premise, I arrived at the conclusion that it was possible for him to have feigned drunkenness by secretly disposing of his liquor, and then made his drunkenness a reality after he had returned to the house. When I learned that he had spent the entire evening on the davenport in the library, I naturally became interested in the jardinière holding the rubber-plant at the head of the davenport.”

  “But, Vance,” protested Markham, “if you were so certain from the first that the crime was rational and commonplace, why all the silly pother about a dragon?”

  “It was not silly. There was always the remote possibility that some strange fish, or sea-monster, had been responsible for Montague’s death. Even the greatest zoologists understand but little about aquatic life: it is positively amazin’ how meagre our knowledge of under-water creatures really is. The breeding of the Betta, for instance, has been going on for decades, and with all our experimentation with this labyrinth family, no one knows whether the Betta pugnax is a nest-builder or a mouthbreeder. Mrs. Stamm was quite right when she ridiculed scientific knowledge of submarine life. And you must not forget, Markham, that Stamm was an ardent fish hunter, and that he brought back to this country all kinds of rare specimens about which practically nothing is known. Scientifically, the superstition of the pool could not be ignored. But, I admit, I did not take the matter very seriously. I clung childishly to the trodden paths, for life has a most disappointin’ way of proving commonplace and rational when we are hopin’ most passionately for the bizarre and supernatural. Anyway, I thought it worth while to inspect Stamm’s collection of fish. But I was more or less familiar with all his exhibits; so I descended to the realm of simple, understandable things, and tested the soil in the jardinière.”

  “And incidentally,” Markham commented, with a slow smile, “you lingered over the fish and the other plants so as not to give Stamm any idea of what you were really after in the rubber-plant pot.”

  Vance smiled back.

  “It may be, don’t y’ know... How about another magnum of Pol Roger?” And he rang for Currie.

  It was less than a year after these two sinister murders at the old Dragon Pool, with their sequence of tragedies, that Leland and Bernice Stamm were married. They were both strong and, in many ways, remarkable characters; but the memory of the tragedies affected them too deeply for them to remain in Inwood. They built a home in the hills of Westchester, and went there to live. Vance and I visited them shortly after their marriage.

  The old Stamm residence was never occupied again, and the estate was acquired by the city and added to what is now Inwood Hill Park. The house was torn down, and only the crumbling stones of its foundation remain. But the two square stone posts of the entrance gate, which marked the beginning of the driveway from Bolton Road, are still standing. The old Dragon Pool exists no more. The stream that fed it was diverted into Spuyten Duyvil Creek. Its semi-artificial bed has been filled in, and what was once the basin of the Dragon Pool is now overgrown with wild vegetation. It would be difficult today even to trace the course of the old stream or to determine the former boundaries of that sinister and tragic pool.

  After the final tragedy and the breaking up of the century-old traditions of the Stamm estate, I often wondered what became of Trainor, the butler, when the doors of the ancient mansion had been closed for all time. Why the memory of the fellow should have remained in my mind, I cannot say; but there was in him something at once ghost-like and corporeal, something both pathetic and offensive, which made a strong impression on me. I was, therefore, glad when I recently ran into him.

  Vance and I were visiting a tropical-fish shop in East 34th Street; and there, behind the counter, half hidden by the tanks, was Trainor.

  He recognized Vance at once, and shook his head lugubriously as we approached him.

  “I’m not doing so well with my Scatophagus here,” he repined. “Not the proper conditions—if you know what I mean, sir.”

  For more of S. S. Van Dine’s “Philo Vance” series and other “Vintage” titles from Felony & Mayhem Press, including the “Inspector Alleyn” series by Ngaio Marsh, and the “Henry Gamadge” series by Elizabeth Daly, please visit our website:

  FelonyAndMayhem.com

  All the characters and events in this work are fictitious.

  THE DRAGON MURDER CASE

  A Felony & Mayhem “Vintage” mystery

  PUBLISHING HISTORY

  First print edition (Scribner’s): 1933

  Felony & Mayhem print and digital editions: 2020

  Copyright © 1933 by Charles Scribner’s Sons

  Copyright renewed 1954 by Claire R. Wright

  All rights reserved

  E-book ISBN: 978-1-63194-210-5

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  Names: Van Dine, S. S., author.

  Title: The dragon murder case / S.S. Van Dine.

  Description: Felony & Mayhem edition. | New York : Felony & Mayhem Press, 2020. | Series: Philo Vance ; 7 | “A Felony & Mayhem mystery.” |

  Sum
mary: “A guest at a Manhattan estate dives into a swimming pool and disappears, and Philo Vance is on hand to sort out both the murder and the mythological references brought up by the crime”-- Provided by publisher.

  Identifiers: LCCN 2019045247 | ISBN 9781631942020 (trade paperback) | ISBN 9781631942105 (ebook)

  Subjects: GSAFD: Mystery fiction.

  Classification: LCC PS3545.R846 D73 2020 | DDC 813/.54--dc23

  LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2019045247