The Thinking Machine Collected Stories Part 101

"Here, O'Brien," instructed the detective, "run out and 'phone to Dr. Loyd and tell him to come up as fast as he can get here. It's probably only suicide."

One of the men went out, and the detective picked up and examined the m.u.f.f. From it he drew out a small purse. He opened this to find a withered rose-nothing else. There was no money, no card, no key-nothing which might immediately throw light on the girl's ident.i.ty.

After a while Dr. Loyd came. He remained in the room alone for ten minutes or so, while the policemen went carefully over the upper rooms of the house. When the doctor opened the door and stepped out he carried something in his hand.

"It's murder," he told the detective.

"How do you know?"

"There are two wounds in the back, where she could not possibly have inflicted them herself. And I found this beneath the body."

In his open hand lay a dagger-a dagger of gold. The handle was strangely and intricately fas.h.i.+oned and might, from its appearance, have been cut from a solid bar of gold. In the end blazed a single splendid gem-a diamond. It was probably of three or four karats and pure white. The steel blade was bright at the hilt but stained red.

"Great Scott!" exclaimed the detective as he examined it. "With a clue like that, the end is already in sight."

This was the story that Hutchinson Hatch told to The Thinking Machine. The scientist listened carefully, as he lay stretched out in a chair with his enormous yellow head resting easily against a cus.h.i.+on. He asked only three questions.

"How long had the girl been dead?"

"The medical examiner says it is impossible to tell within more than a few days," Hatch replied. "He gave it as his opinion that it was a week or ten days."

"What was in the cellar?"

"I don't know. No one looked."

"Who broke in the door? Clements?"

"Yes."

"I shall go with you to-morrow," said The Thinking Machine. "I want to look at the dagger and also the cellar."

II.

It was 10 o'clock next day when Hutchinson Hatch and The Thinking Machine called on Dr. Loyd. The medical examiner willingly displayed the golden dagger, and in technical terms explained just what had caused the girl's death. Minus the medical phraseology his opinion was that the wound in the breast had been the first inflicted and that the dagger point had punctured the heart. One of the wounds in the back had also reached the same vital spot; the other wound was superficial.

The Thinking Machine viewed the body and agreed with the medical examiner. He had, meanwhile, carefully examined the dagger, handle and blade, and had a photograph of it made. Then, with Hatch, he proceeded to the Cambridge house.

"It isn't suicide, is it?" asked Hatch on the way.

"No," was the quick response. "The only question thus far in my mind, is whether or not the girl was killed in that house."

"Why was a man such a fool as to leave a dagger of that value where it would be found-or any dagger for that matter?" Hatch asked.

"A dozen reasons," replied the scientist. "A possible one is, that whoever killed her may have been frightened away before he could regain possession of the weapon. Remember it was found underneath her body. Presumably she fell backwards and covered the dagger. A slight noise-any one of a dozen things-might have caused the person who killed her to run away rather than try to get the weapon again. Against that of course is the value of the dagger. I know little about jewels, but knowing as little as I do, I should say the value was in the thousands."

"The very reason why it wouldn't be left," said Hatch.

"Quite true," said the other. "Yet the value of the dagger may have been the very reason it was left."

Hatch turned quickly and stared at The Thinking Machine with a question in his eyes.

"I mean," The Thinking Machine explained, "that the dagger is nearly as good as the name and the address of its owner, because it can be traced immediately. Its owner would never have left it under any circ.u.mstances."

Hatch was puzzled. He did not follow, as yet, the intricate reasoning of the scientist. It seemed that the one solid, substantial clue, as he regarded it, was to be eliminated without a hearing. The Thinking Machine went on:

"Suppose it had been someone's purpose to kill this girl and, on the face of it, immediately direct attention to some other person as the criminal? In that event, what would have done it more effectively than to kill her with a stolen dagger belonging to some other man and leave it?"

"Oh," exclaimed Hatch. "I think I see what you mean. The fact that a person owns this knife is not, then, to be taken against him?"

"On the contrary," said The Thinking Machine sharply. "It's almost a vindication, unless the person who killed her is mad."

A few minutes later, they arrived at the house. It was a two-story frame structure, back thirty or forty feet from the street, in the centre of a small plot of ground. The nearest house was three or four hundred feet away. Hatch was somewhat surprised at the care with which The Thinking Machine examined the premises before he entered the house. Scarcely a foot of ground had not been critically gone over.

Then they entered through the back door. Here, in the kitchen, The Thinking Machine showed the same care in his examination. He squinted aggressively at the sink and casually turned the water on. Then he examined the rusty range. Thence he went to the dining room, where there was the same minute examination. The parlor, hall, and the lower bedroom were examined, after which the two men went up stairs.

"In which room was the girl found?" asked The Thinking Machine.

"The back room," Hatch replied.

"Well, let's examine the other two first," and the scientist led the way to the front of the house. His examination seemed to be confined largely to the water arrangements. He examined each faucet in turn and turned the water on. He went through the same program in the bathroom.

This done, there remained only the room of death. It was precisely as the Medical Examiner had left it, except that the girl's body was gone. The sheets whereon she lay and the pillows were closely scrutinized. Then The Thinking Machine straightened up.

"Any running water in here?" he asked.

"I don't see any," Hatch replied.

"All right, now for the cellar."

The reporter could not even conjecture what The Thinking Machine expected to find in the cellar. It was low ceiling, damp and chilly. By the light of the electric bulb, which the scientist produced, they could see only the furnace, which stood rustily at about the centre. The Thinking Machine examined this for ashes, but found none. Then he wandered aimlessly about the place, taking it all in seemingly in one long, comprehensive squint. Finally he turned to Hatch.

"Let's go," he suggested.

Three-quarters of an hour later, the two men were again in the apartments on Beacon Hill. The scientist dropped into his accustomed place in the big chair and sat silent for a long time. Hatch waited impatiently.

"Has a picture of this dagger been printed yet?" asked The Thinking Machine at last.

"In every newspaper in Boston, to-day."

"Dear me, dear me," exclaimed the scientist. "It would have been perfectly easy to find the owner of the dagger if pictures of it hadn't been printed."

"Do you think it probable that its owner is the criminal?"

"No, unless, as I said, he was insane, but it would have been interesting to know how the knife pa.s.sed out of his possession. Was it given away? If so, to whom? A thing of that value would never be given to anyone who was not near and dear to the one who gave it. It is not the kind of gift a man would make to a woman, but is rather a kind of gift a King might make to a loyal subject. It is Oriental in appearance and naturally suggests the Orient. But as I said, the person who owned it did not use it to kill the girl."

"Then what did happen to it?" asked Hatch, curiously.

"Probably it was stolen. Here is the problem: A girl whose name we don't know was murdered by a person we don't know. We do know that this dagger was used to kill her. Therefore find the man who owned the dagger originally and learn how it pa.s.sed out of his hands. That may lead us directly to the man who rented the house. When we find the man who rented the house, we find possibly the man who stole the dagger and the man who may have killed or may know who killed the girl."