Ashton-Kirk, Investigator Part 23

[Ill.u.s.tration: sketch of clue]

Pendleton bent over the result under the flare of the gas light; and as he looked his eyes widened.

"Why," cried he, "they look like a stenographer's word-signs."

"Good!" said Ashton-Kirk. "And that, my dear fellow, is exactly what they are. There, scrawled erratically in dripping tallow, is a three word sentence in Benn Pitman's phonetic characters. It is roughly done, and may have occupied some minutes; but it is well done, and in excellent German. I'll write it out for you."

Then he wrote on the pad in big, plain Roman letters:

HINTER WAYNE'S BILDNISSE

"There it is," said the investigator, "done into the German language, line for line. Brush up your knowledge now; let me see you turn it into English."

Pendleton, whose German was rusty from long disuse, pondered over the three words. Suddenly a light shot across his face; then his eyes were in a blaze.

"_Behind Wayne's Portrait!_"

He fairly shouted the words. Astonishment filled him; he was trembling with excitement.

"By Heaven," he gasped, "you have it, Kirk. Now I understand the smas.h.i.+ng of the portraits of General Wayne. There was something of value hidden behind one of them--between the picture and the back! But what?"

"It was nothing of any great bulk; the hiding place indicated points that out, surely," said Ashton-Kirk, composedly. "A doc.u.ment of some sort, perhaps."

Pendleton stood for a moment, lost in the wonder of the revelation; then his mind began to work once more.

"But I can't understand the writing of the thing upon the step," said he.

"It was the fact that it was written that proved to me that there were at least two men concerned. One knew the hiding place of the coveted object; and this is how he conveyed the information to his companion,"

pointing to the step.

"But," protested Pendleton, "why did he not put it into words? Surely it would have been much easier?"

"Not for this particular person. As it happens, he was a mute."

Again Pendleton's eyes opened widely; then recollection came to him and he said:

"It was Locke--the man concerning whom you were making inquiries of the railroad conductor!"

Ashton-Kirk nodded, and replied.

"And it was he who shrieked when the door of the showroom opened. The out-cry of a deaf-mute, if you have ever heard one, has the same squawking, senseless sound as that of a psittaceous bird like the parrot or c.o.c.katoo."

"But," said Pendleton, "the fact that the man who scrawled these signs upon the step _was_ a deaf-mute, scarcely justifies the eccentricity of the thing. Why did he not use a pencil, as you have done?"

"I can't say exactly, of course. But did it never happen that you were without a pencil at a time when you needed one rather urgently?"

"This thing has sort of knocked me off my balance, I suppose," said Pendleton, rather bewildered. "Don't expect too much of me, Kirk." He stuffed his hands in his pockets dejectedly and continued: "You now tell me that this man was a mute. Yesterday you said he was small, that he was near-sighted, that he was well dressed and knew something of the modern German dramatists. You also told the conductor that he wore thick gla.s.ses and a silk hat. Now, I suppose I'm all kinds of an idiot for not understanding how you know these things about a man you never saw. But I confess it candidly; I _don't_ understand."

"It all belongs to my method of work," said Ashton-Kirk. "It's simple enough when you go about it the right way. I have already given you my reasons for thinking the man who did this," pointing to the step, "to be a mute. I judged that he was of small stature because he chose the bottom step upon which to trace his word signs. Even an ordinary sized man would have selected one higher up."

"All right," said Pendleton. "That looks good to me, so far."

"The deductions that he was well dressed and also near-sighted were from the one source. His hat fell off while he was tracing the signs; that showed me that he was forced to stoop very close to his work in order to see what he was about. You see that, don't you?"

"How did you know his hat fell off?" asked Pendleton, incredulously.

"Mrs. Dwyer is evidently paid to clean only the hall and lower stairway," replied Ashton-Kirk, composedly. "And that she sticks closely to that arrangement is shown by the condition of this upper flight. The dust upon the step is rather thick. If you will notice,"

and he indicated a place on the second step, "here is a spot where a round, flat object rested. That this object was a silk hat is positive. You can see the sharp impress of the nap in the dust; here is the curl in the exact center of the crown as seen in silk hats only. And men who wear silk hats are usually well-dressed men."

"But how can you be at all sure that the hat fell off? Isn't it possible that he took it off and laid it there?"

"Possible--yes--but scarcely probable. A well-dressed man is so from instinct. And his instinctive neatness would hardly permit him to put his well-kept hat down in the dust."

"Go on," said Pendleton.

"The stairs have been used since the hat fell there; but the dust has not been disturbed. There is a hand-rail on the other side of the flight, and consequently, all went up and down on that side."

"I can understand the thick gla.s.ses," said Pendleton, "his being near-sighted suggested those. But what made you think he cared for the modern German dramatists?"

"That was a hazard, merely," and the investigator laughed.

"He knew German and was apparently a man of intelligence. No man who combines these two things can fail of admiration of Hauptmann, Sudermann and their brothers of the pen. And then a mute who knew shorthand well enough to have such ready recourse to it, struck me as being unusual. They all know the digital sign language; but German and phonography cla.s.sed him as one above the ordinary. This knowledge brought the suggestion of an inst.i.tution. Then came the suggestion that he might be an instructor in such an inst.i.tution. The fragment from the railroad ticket hinted that the inst.i.tution might be out of town. Fuller's research placed two such inst.i.tutions. The ticket counter at the railroad office narrowed it down to one. The conductor of the train all but put his hand on the man."

There was a short silence. Then Pendleton drew a long breath.

"Well, Kirk," said he. "I don't mind admitting that you have me winging. I'll tell you now it's clever; but if I can think of a stronger word later, I'll work it in instead."

"We have a pretty positive line on one of the criminals, and we will now turn to the other," said the investigator, briskly. "It was this other who committed the murder. The infirmities of Locke, the mute, made it impossible for him to venture into the rooms. The risks for a deaf and short-sighted man would be too great. Danger might creep upon him and he neither hear nor see it. For some reason which I have not yet discovered, but it may have been distrust, he had not informed his confederate as to the whereabouts of the object of their entrance.

When they got as far as this hall, he concluded to do so; but as neither man had a pencil, he conveyed the information as shown; then the confederate entered Hume's apartments by the door which Mrs.

Dwyer found open. This, by an oversight, may have been left unlocked, or the criminals may have had a key. However, that does not affect the case one way or another.

"It is my opinion that Hume was seated at his desk at this time and heard the intruder enter the storage room; then pus.h.i.+ng back his chair as we saw it, he arose. The criminal, however, sprang upon and struck him so expertly that he collapsed without a sound. Then the bayonet came into play.

"A search followed for the thing desired--a search, short, sharp and savage. The murderer either found what he sought, or the footsteps of Miss Vale upon the stairs frightened him. At any rate he pulled open the showroom door--the one with the gong; Locke, still in the hall, screamed and both fled up these stairs to the roof and away."

Pendleton had waited patiently until his friend finished. Then he said, with a twinkle in his eye:

"You say the murderer opened the show room door, the gong rang and then Locke screamed. Now, old chap, that's not possible. If Locke is deaf, he couldn't hear the gong; and so there would be no occasion for him to cry out."

"I think if you'll go back over what I've really said," spoke Ashton-Kirk, "you will find that I have made no mention of Locke crying out because of the gong. I said the murderer opened the door that has the gong. Then Locke screamed, not because he heard anything, but because of the sight he saw."

"Ah!"

"He caught a glimpse of Hume upon the floor--as we saw him."

"You think, then, that Locke's intentions were not murder?"

"At the present time I am led to think so. The confederate either was forced to kill to save himself, or he had nursed a private scheme of revenge. And the ferocity of the blow with the bayonet inclines me to prefer the latter as a theory."