Part 12 (1/2)
”Yes.”
”There was a strong wind that night, might not the wind have blown the lamp out?”
”No, that wasn't it,” said Knoll, rising hastily.
”Well, how was it?” asked Muller calmly.
”A hand put out the lamp.”
”Whose hand?”
”I couldn't see that. The light was so low on account of the shade that I couldn't see the person who stood there.”
”And you don't know whether it was a man or a woman?”
”No, I just saw a hand, more like a shadow it was.”
”Well, it doesn't matter much anyway. It was after nine o'clock and many people go to bed about that time,” said Muller, who did not see much value in this incident.
But Knoll shook his head. ”The person who put out that light didn't go to bed, at least not right away,” he said eagerly. ”I looked over after a while to the place where the red light was and I saw something else.”
”Well, what was it you saw?”
”The window had been closed.”
”Who closed it? Didn't you see the person that time? The moonlight lay full on the house.”
”Yes, when there weren't any clouds. But there was a heavy cloud over the moon just then and when it came out again the window was shut and there was a white curtain drawn in front of it.”
”How could you see that?”
”I could see it when the lamp was lit again.”
”Then the lamp was lit again?”
”Yes, I could see the red light behind the curtain.”
”And what happened then?”
”Nothing more then, except that the man went through the garden.”
Muller rose now and took up his hat. He was evidently excited and Knoll looked at him uneasily. ”You're goin' already?” he asked.
”Yes, I have a great deal to do to-day,” replied the detective and nodded to the prisoner as he knocked on the door. ”I am glad you remembered that,” he added, ”it will be of use to us, I think.”
The warder opened the door, let Muller out, and the heavy iron portal clanged again between Knoll and freedom.
Muller was quite satisfied with the result of his visit to the accused.
He hurried to the nearest cab stand and entered one of the carriages waiting there. He gave the driver Mrs. Klingmayer's address. It was about two o'clock in the afternoon now and Muller had had nothing to eat yet. But he was quite unaware of the fact as his mind was so busy that no mere physical sensation could divert his attention for a moment.
Muller never seemed to need sleep or food when he was on the trail, particularly not in the fascinating first stages of the case when it was his imagination alone, catching at trifles unnoticed by others, combining them in masterly fas.h.i.+on to an ordered whole, that first led the seekers to the truth. Now he went over once more all the little apparently trivial incidents that had caused him first to watch the Thorne household and then had drawn his attention, and his suspicion, to Adele Bernauer. It was the broken willow twig that had first drawn his attention to the old garden next the Thorne property. This twig, this garden, and perhaps some one who could reach his home again, unseen and unendangered through this garden--might not this have something to do with the murder?