"You remarked a moment ago," said Markham, "that the murderer went there that night prepared to take heroic measures if necessary. And yet you say he planned the murder."
"True. The two statements don't conflict, y' know. The murder was planned—without doubt. But the major was willing to give his victim a last chance to save his life. My theory is this: The major, being in a tight financial hole with state prison looming before him, and knowing that his brother had sufficient funds in the safe to save him, plotted the crime and went to the house that night prepared to commit it. First, however, he told his brother of his predic'ment and asked for the money; and Alvin prob'bly told him to go to the devil. The major may even have pleaded a bit in order to avoid killing him; but when the liter'ry Alvin turned to reading, he saw the futility of appealing further, and proceeded with the dire business."
Markham smoked awhile.
"Granting all you've said," he remarked at length, "I still don't see how you could know, as you asserted this morning, that the major had planned the murder so as to throw suspicion deliberately on Captain Leacock."
"Just as a sculptor, who thoroughly understands the principles of form and composition, can accurately supply any missing integral part of a statue," Vance explained, "so can the psychologist who understands the human mind supply any missing factor in a given human action. I might add, parenthetically, that all this blather about the missing arms of the Aphrodite of Melos—the Milo Venus, y' know—is the utt'rest fiddle-faddle. Any competent artist who knew the laws of aesthetic organization could restore the arms exactly as they were originally. Such restorations are merely a matter of context—the missing factor, d' ye see, simply has to conform and harmonize with what is already known."
He made one of his rare gestures of delicate emphasis.
"Now, the problem of circumventing suspicion is an important detail in every deliberated crime. And since the general conception of this particular crime was pos'tive, conclusive, and concrete, it followed that each one of its component parts would be pos'tive, conclusive, and concrete. Therefore, for the major merely to have arranged things so that he himself should not be suspected would have been too negative a conception to fit consistently with the other psychological aspects of the deed. It would have been too vague, too indirect, too indef'nite. The type of literal mind which conceived this crime would logically have provided a specific and tangible object of suspicion. Cons'quently, when the material evidence began to pile up against the captain, and the major waxed vehement in defending him, I knew he had been chosen as the dupe. At first, I admit, I suspected the major of having selected Miss St. Clair as the victim; but when I learned that the presence of her gloves and handbag at Benson's was only an accident, and remembered that the major had given us Pfyfe as a source of information about the captain's threat, I realized that her projection into the role of murderer was unpremeditated."
A little later Markham rose and stretched himself.
"Well, Vance," he said, "your task is finished. Mine has just begun. And I need sleep."
Before a week had passed, Major Anthony Benson was indicted for the murder of his brother. His trial before Judge Rudolph Hansacker, as you remember, created a nationwide sensation. The Associated Press sent columns daily to its members; and for weeks the front pages of the country's newspapers were emblazoned with spectacular reports of the proceedings. How the district attorney's office won the case after a bitter struggle; how, because of the indirect character of the evidence, the verdict was for murder in the second degree; and how, after a retrial in the court of appeals, Anthony Benson finally received a sentence of from twenty years to life—all these facts are a matter of official and public record.
Markham personally did not appear as public prosecutor. Having been a lifelong friend of the defendant's, his position was an unenviable and difficult one, and no word of criticism was directed against his assignment of the case to Chief Assistant District Attorney Sullivan. Major Benson surrounded himself with an array of counsel such as is rarely seen in our criminal courts. Both Blashfield and Bauer were among the attorneys for the defense—Blashfield fulfilling the duties of the English solicitor, and Bauer acting as advocate. They fought with every legal device at their disposal, but the accumulation of evidence against their client overwhelmed them.
After Markham had been convinced of the major's guilt, he had made a thorough examination of the business affairs of the two brothers and found the situation even worse than had been indicated by Stitt's first report. The firm's securities had been systematically appropriated for private speculations; but whereas Alvin Benson had succeeded in covering himself and making a large profit, the major had been almost completely wiped out by his investments. Markham was able to show that the major's only hope of replacing the diverted securities and saving himself from criminal prosecution lay in Alvin Benson's immediate death. It was also brought out at the trial that the major, on the very day of the murder, had made emphatic promises which could have been kept only in the event of his gaining access to his brother's safe. Furthermore, these promises had involved specific amounts in the other's possession; and, in one instance, he had put up, on a forty-eight-hour note, a security already pledged—a fact which, in itself would have exposed his hand had his brother lived.
Miss Hoffman was a helpful and intelligent witness for the prosecution. Her knowledge of conditions at the Benson and Benson offices went far toward strengthening the case against the major.
Mrs. Platz also testified to overhearing acrimonious arguments between the brothers. She stated that less than a fortnight before the murder the major, after an unsuccessful attempt to borrow $50,000 from Alvin, had threatened him, saying, "If I ever have to choose between your skin and mine, it won't be mine that'll suffer."
Theodore Montagu, the man who, according to the story of the elevator boy at the Chatham Arms, had returned at half past two on the night of the murder, testified that as his taxicab turned in front of the apartment house the headlights flashed on a man standing in a tradesmen's entrance across the street, and that the man looked like Major Benson. This evidence would have had little effect had not Pfyfe come forward after the arrest and admitted seeing the major crossing Sixth Avenue at Forty-sixth Street when he had walked to Pietro's for his drink of Haig and Haig. He explained that he had attached no importance to it at the time, thinking the major was merely returning home from some Broadway restaurant. He himself had not been seen by the major.
This testimony, in connection with Mr. Montagu's, annihilated the major's carefully planned alibi; and though the defense contended stubbornly that both witnesses had been mistaken in their identification, the jury was deeply impressed by the evidence, especially when Assistant District Attorney Sullivan, under Vance's tutoring, painstakingly explained, with diagrams, how the major could have gone out and returned that night without being seen by the boy.
It was also shown that the jewels could not have been taken from the scene of the crime except by the murderer; and Vance and I were called as witnesses to the finding of them in the major's apartment. Vance's demonstration of the height of the murderer was shown in court, but, curiously, it carried little weight, as the issue was confused by a mass of elaborate scientific objections. Captain Hagedorn's identification of the pistol was the most difficult obstacle with which the defense had to contend.
The trial lasted three weeks, and much evidence of a scandalous nature was taken, although, at Markham's suggestion, Sullivan did his best to minimize the private affairs of those innocent persons whose lives unfortunately touched upon the episode. Colonel Ostrander, however, has never forgiven Markham for not having had him called as a witness.
During the last week of the trial Miss Muriel St. Clair appeared as prima donna in a large Broadway light opera production which ran successfully for nearly two years. She has since married her chivalrous Captain Leacock, and they appear perfectly happy.
Pfyfe is still married and as el
egant as ever. He visits New York regularly, despite the absence of his "dear old Alvin"; and I have occasionally seen him and Mrs. Banning together. Somehow, I shall always like that woman. Pfyfe raised the $10,000—how, I have no idea—and reclaimed her jewels. Their ownership, by the way, was not divulged at the trial, for which I was very glad.
On the evening of the day the verdict was brought in against the major, Vance and Markham and I were sitting in the Stuyvesant Club. We had dined together, but no word of the events of the past few weeks had passed between us. Presently, however, I saw an ironic smile creep slowly to Vance's lips.
"I say, Markham," he drawled, "what a grotesque spectacle the trial was! The real evidence, y' know, wasn't even introduced. Benson was convicted entirely on suppositions, presumptions, implications and inf'rences. . . . God help the innocent Daniel who inadvertently falls into a den of legal lions!"
Markham, to my surprise, nodded gravely.
"Yes," he concurred; "but if Sullivan had tried to get a conviction on your so-called psychological theories, he'd have been adjudged insane."
"Doubtless," sighed Vance. "You illuminati of the law would have little to do if you went about your business intelligently."
"Theoretically," replied Markham at length, "your theories are clear enough; but I'm afraid I've dealt too long with material facts to forsake them for psychology and art. . . . However," he added lightly, "if my legal evidence should fail me in the future, may I call on you for assistance?"
"I'm always at your service, old chap, don't y' know," Vance rejoined. "I rather fancy, though, that it's when your legal evidence is leading you irresistibly to your victim that you'll need me most, what?"
And the remark, though intended merely as a good-natured sally, proved strangely prophetic.
Footnotes
[1] As a matter of fact, the same watercolors that Vance obtained for $250 and $300 were bringing three times as much four years later.
[2] I am thinking particularly of Bronzino's portraits of Pietro de' Medici and Cosimo de' Medici, in the National Gallery, and of Vasari's medallion portrait of Lorenzo de' Medici in the Vecchio Palazzo, Florence.
[3] Once when Vance was suffering from sinusitis, he had an X-ray photograph of his head made; and the accompanying chart described him as a "marked dolichocephalic" and a "disharmonious Nordic." It also contained the following data:—cephalic index 75; nose, leptorhine, with an index of 48; facial angle, 85º; vertical index, 72; upper facial index, 54; interpupilary width, 67; chin, masognathous, with an index of 103; sella turcica, abnormally large.
[4] "Culture," Vance said to me shortly after I had met him, "is polyglot; and the knowledge of many tongues is essential to an understanding of the world's intellectual and aesthetic achievements. Especially are the Greek and Latin classics vitiated by translation." I quote the remark here because his omnivorous reading in languages other than English, coupled with his amazingly retentive memory, had a tendency to affect his own speech. And while it may appear to some that his speech was at times pedantic, I have tried, throughout these chronicles to quote him literally, in the hope of presenting a portrait of the man as he was.
[5] The book was O. Henry's Strictly Business, and the place at which it was being held open was, curiously enough, the story entitled "A Municipal Report."
[6] Inspector Moran (as I learned later) had once been the president of a large upstate bank that had failed during the panic of 1907, and during the Gaynor Administration had been seriously considered for the post of Police Commissioner.
[7] Vance's eyes were slightly bifocal. His right eye was 1.2 astigmatic, whereas his left eye was practically normal.
[8] Even the famous Elwell case, which came several years later and bore certain points of similarity to the Benson case, created no greater sensation, despite the fact that Elwell was more widely known than Benson, and the persons involved were more prominent socially. Indeed, the Benson case was referred to several times in descriptions of the Elwell case; and one anti-administration paper regretted editorially that John F.-X. Markham was no longer district attorney of New York.
[9] Vance, who had lived many years in England, frequently said "ain't"—a contraction which is regarded there more leniently than in this country. He also pronounced ate as if it were spelled et; and I can not remember his ever using the word "stomach" or "bug," both of which are under the social ban in England.
[10] The following conversation in which Vance explains his psychological methods of criminal analysis, is, of course, set down from memory. However, a proof of this passage was sent to him with a request that he revise and alter it in whatever manner he chose; so that, as it now stands, it describes Vance's theory in practically his own words.
[11] I don't know what case Vance was referring to; but there are several instances of this device on record, and writers of detective fiction have often used it. The latest instance is to be found in G. K. Chesterton's The Innocence of Father Brown, in the story entitled "The Wrong Shape."
[12] It was Pearson and Goring who, about twenty years ago, made an extensive investigation and tabulation of professional criminals in England, the results of which showed (1) that criminal careers began mostly between the ages of 16 and 21; (2) that over ninety percent of criminals were mentally normal; and (3) that more criminals had criminal older brothers than criminal fathers.
[13] Sir Basil Thomson, K.C.B., former Assistant Commissioner of Metropolitan Police, London, writing in the Saturday Evening Post several years after this conversation, said: "Take, for example, the proverb that murder will out, which is employed whenever one out of many thousands of undiscovered murderers is caught through a chance coincidence that captures the popular imagination. It is because murder will not out that the pleasant shock of surprise when it does out calls for a proverb to enshrine the phenomenon. The poisoner who is brought to justice has almost invariably proved to have killed other victims without exciting suspicion until he has grown careless."
[14] In "Popular Fallacies About Crime" (Saturday Evening Post; April 21, 1923, p. 8) Sir Basil Thomson also upheld this point of view.
[15] For years the famous Concert Champêtre in the Louvre was officially attributed to Titian. Vance, however, took it upon himself to convince the Curator, M. Lepelletier, that it was a Giorgione, with the result that the painting is now credited to that artist.
[16] Obviously a reference to Tetrazzini's performance in La Bohème at the Manhattan Opera House in 1908.
[17] This quotation from Ecclesiastes reminds me that Vance regularly read the Old Testament. "When I weary of the professional liter'ry man," he once said, "I find stimulation in the majestic prose of the Bible. If the moderns feel that they simply must write, they should be made to spend at least two hours a day with the Biblical historians."
[18] The book—or a part of it—has, I believe, been recently translated into English.
[19] The boy was Jack Prisco, of 621 Kelly Street.
[20] Obviously Mrs. Platz.
[21] A helixometer, I learned later, is an instrument that makes it possible to examine every portion of the inside of a gun's barrel through a microscope.
THE CANARY MURDER CASE
First Published 1927
CONTENTS
1. THE "CANARY"
2. FOOTPRINTS IN THE SNOW
3. THE MURDER
4. THE PRINT OF A HAND
5. THE BOLTED DOOR
6. A CALL FOR HELP
7. A NAMELESS VISITOR
8. THE INVISIBLE MURDERER
9. THE PACK IN FULL CRY
10. A FORCED INTERVIEW
11. SEEKING INFORMATION
12. CIRCUMSTANTIAL EVIDENCE
13. AN ERSTWHILE GALLANT
14. VANCE OUTLINES A THEORY
15. FOUR POSSIBILITIES
16. SIGNIFICANT DISCLOSURES
17. CHECKING AN ALIBI
18. THE TRAP
19. THE DOCTOR EXPLAINS
20.
A MIDNIGHT WITNESS
21. A CONTRADICTION IN DATES
22. A TELEPHONE CALL
23. THE TEN-O'CLOCK APPOINTMENT
24. AN ARREST
25. VANCE DEMONSTRATES
26. RECONSTRUCTING THE CRIME
27. A GAME OF POKER
28. THE GUILTY MAN
29. BEETHOVEN'S "ANDANTE"
30. THE END
CHARACTERS OF THE BOOK
PHILO VANCE
JOHN F.-X. MARKHAM: District Attorney of New York County
MARGARET ODELL (THE "CANARY"): Famous Broadway beauty and ex-Follies girl, who was mysteriously murdered in her apartment
AMY GIBSON: Margaret Odell's maid
CHARLES CLEAVER: A man-about-town
KENNETH SPOTSWOODE: A manufacturer
LOUIS MANNIX: An importer
DR. AMBROISE LINDQUIST: A fashionable neurologist
TONY SKEEL: A professional burglar
Philo Vance Omnibus Vol 1 Page 26