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the lamp that went out-第18部分
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perhaps; but who had none of the freshness and vigour of youth。
The scanty hair; the sunken temples; and the faded skin; emphasised
the look of dissipation given by the lines about the sensual mouth
and the shifty eyes。
〃Well; say; can't your master find anything better to paint than a
face like that?〃 Muller asked with a laugh。
〃Goodness me! you mustn't say such things!〃 exclaimed Franz in
alarm; 〃that's the Madam's brother。 He's an officer; I'd have you
know。 It's true; he doesn't look like much there; but that's
because he's not in uniform。 It makes such a difference。〃
〃Is the lady anything like her brother?〃 asked the detective
indifferently; bending to examine the wiring。
〃Oh; dear; no; not a bit; they're as different as day and night。
He's only her half…brother anyway。 She was the daughter of the
Colonel's second wife。 Our Madam is the sweetest; gentlest lady
you can imagine; an angel of goodness。 But the Lieutenant here
has always been a care to his family; they say。 I guess he's
quieted down a bit now; for his father … he's Colonel Leining;
retired … made him get exchanged from the city to a small garrison
town。 There's nothing much to do in Marburg; I dare say … well!
you are a merry sort; aren't you?〃 These last words; spoken in a
tone of surprise; were called forth by a sudden sharp whistle from
the detective; a whistle which went off into a few merry bars。
A sudden whistle like that from Muller's lips was something that
made the Imperial Police Force sit up and take notice; for it meant
that things were happening; and that the happenings were likely to
become exciting。 It was a habit he could control only by the
severest effort of the will; an effort which he kept for occasions
when it was absolutely necessary。 Here; alone with the harmless
old man; he was not so much on his guard; and the sudden vibrating
of every nerve at the word 〃Marburg;〃 found vent in the whistle
which surprised old Franz。 One young police commissioner with a
fancy for metaphor had likened this sudden involuntary whistle of
Muller's to the bay of the hound when he strikes the trail; which
was about what it was。
〃Yes; I am merry sometimes;〃 he said with a laugh。 〃It's a habit
I have。 Something occurred to me just then; something I had
forgotten。 Hope you don't mind。〃
〃Oh; no; there's no one here now; whistle all you like。〃
But Muller's whistle was not a continuous performance; and he had
now completely mastered the excitation of his nerves which had
called it forth。 He threw another sharp look at the picture of the
man who lived in Marburg; and then asked: 〃And now where is the
button?〃
〃By the window there; beside the desk。〃 Franz led the way with
his candle。
〃Why; how funny! What are those mirrors there for?〃 asked the
electrician in a tone of surprise; pointing to two small mirrors
hanging in the window niche。 They were placed at a height and at
such a peculiar angle that no one could possibly see his face
in them。
〃Something the master is experimenting with; I guess。 He's always
making queer experiments; he knows a lot about scientific things。〃
Muller shook his head as if in wonderment; and bent to investigate
the button which was fastened into the wall beneath the window sill。
His quick ear heard a carriage stopping in front of the house; and
heard the closing of the front door a moment later。 To facilitate
his examination of the button; the detective had seated himself in
the armchair which stood beside the desk。 He half raised himself
now to let the light of the candle fall more clearly on the wiring
… then he started up altogether and threw a hasty glance at the
mirrors above his head。 A ray of light had suddenly flashed down
upon him … a ray of red light; and it came reflected from the
mirrors。 Muller bit his lips to keep back the betraying whistle。
〃What's the matter?〃 asked the butler。 〃Did you drop anything?〃
〃Yes; the wooden rim of the button;〃 replied Muller; telling the
truth this time。 For he had held the little wooden circlet in his
hands at the moment when the red light; reflected down from the
mirrors; struck full upon his eyes。 He had dropped it in his
surprise and excitement。 Franz found the little ring in the centre
of the room where it had rolled; and the supposed electrician
replaced it and rose to his feet; saying: 〃There; I've finished now。〃
Franz did not recognise the double meaning in the words。 〃Yes; it's
all right! I've finished here now;〃 Muller repeated to himself。
For now he knew beyond a doubt that the red light was a signal … and
he knew also for whom this signal was intended。 It was a signal for
Herbert Thorne! … Herbert Thorne; whom no single thought or suspicion
of Muller's had yet connected with the murder of Leopold Winkler。
The detective was very much surprised and greatly excited。 But
Franz did not notice it; and indeed a far keener observer than the
slow…witted old butler might have failed to see the sudden gleam
which shot up in the grey eyes behind the heavy spectacles; might
have failed to notice the tightening of the lips beneath the blond
moustache; or the tenseness of the slight frame under the assumed
embonpoint。 Muller's every nerve was tingling; but he had himself
completely in hand。
〃What do we owe you?〃 asked Franz。
〃They'll send you a bill from the office。 It won't amount to much。
I must be getting on now。〃
Muller hastened out of the door and down the street to the nearest
cab stand。 There were not very many cab stands in this vicinity;
and the detective reasoned that Mrs。 Bernauer would naturally have
taken her cab from the nearest station。 He had heard her return in
her carriage; presumably the same in which she had started out。
There was but one cab at the stand。 Muller walked to it and laid
his hand on the door。
〃Oh; Jimmy! must I go out again?〃 asked the driver hoarsely。
〃Can't you see the poor beast is all wet from the last ride? We've
just come in。〃 He pointed with his whip to the tired…looking animal
under his blanket。
〃Why; he does look warm。 You must have been making a tour out into
the country;〃 said the blond gentleman in a friendly tone。
〃No; sir; not quite so far as that。 I've just taken a woman to the
main telegraph office in the city and back again。 But she was in a
hurry and he's not a young horse; sir。〃
〃Well; never mind; then; I can get another cab across the bridge;〃
replied the stout blond man; turning away and strolling off leisurely
in the direction of the bridge。 It was now quite dark; and a few
steps further on Muller could safely turn and take the road to his
own lodging。 No one saw him go in; and in a few moments the real
Muller; slight; smooth…shaven; sat down at his desk; looking at the
papers that lay before him。 They were three letters and an empty
envelope。
He took up the last; and compared it carefully with the envelope of
one of the letters found in Winkler's room … the unsigned letter
postmarked Hietzing; September 24th。 The two envelopes were exactly
alike。 They were of the same size and shape; made of the same
cream…tinted; heavy; glossy paper; and the address was written by
the same hand。 This any keen observer; who need not necessarily be
an expert; could see。 The same hand which had addressed the
envelope to Mrs。 Adele Bernauer on the letter which was postmarked
〃Venice;〃 about thirty…six hours previous … this hand had; in an
awkward and childish attempt at disguise; written Winkler's address
on the envelope which bore the date of September 24th。
The writer of the harmless letter to Mrs。 Bernauer; a letter which
chatted of household topics and touched lightly on the beauties of
Venice; was Mrs。 Thorne。 It was Mrs。 Thorne; therefore; who;
reluctantly and in anger and distaste; had called Leopold Winkler
to Hietzing; to his death。
And whose hand had fired the shot that caused his death? The
question; at this stage in Muller's meditation; could hardly be
called a question any more。 It was all too sadly clear to him now。
Winkler met his death at the hand of the husband; who; discovering
the planned rendezvous; had misunderstood its motive。
For truly this had been no lovers' meeting。 It had been a meeting
to which the woman was driven by fear and hate; the man by greed of
gain。 This was clearly proved by the 300 guldens found in the dead
man's pocket; money enclosed in a delicate little envelope; sealed
hastily; and crumpled as if it had been carried in a hot and
trembling hand。
It was already known that Winkler never had any money except at
certain irregular intervals; when he appeared to have come into
possession of considerable sums。 During these days he indulged in
extravagant pleasures and spent his money with a recklessness which
proved that he had not earned it by honest work。
Leopold Winkler was a blackmailer。
Colonel Leining; retired; the father of two such widely different
children; was doubtless a man of stern principles; and an army
officer as well; therefore a man with a doubly sensitive code of
honour and a social position to maintain; and this man; morbidly
sensitive probably; had a daughter who had inherited his
sensitiveness and his high ideals of honour; a daughter married to
a rich husband。 But he had another child; a son without any sense
of honour at all; who; although also an officer; failed to live in
a manner worthy his position。 This son was now in Marburg; where
there were no expensive pleasures; no all…night cafes and gambling
dens; for a man to lose his time in; his money; and his honour also。
For such must have been the case with Colonel Leining's son before
his exile to Marburg。 The old butler had hinted at the truth。 The
portrait drawn by Herbert Thorne; a picture of such technical
excellence that it was doubtless a good likeness also; had given an
ugly illustration to Franz's remarks。 And there was something even
more tangible to prove it: 〃Theo's〃 letter from Marburg pleading
with Winkler for 〃discretion and silence;〃 not knowing (〃let us
hope he did not know!〃 murmured Muller between set teeth) that the
man who held him in his power beca
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