Part 4 (1/2)
”No, no,” the Judge replied in as low a tone. Aloud he said, ”Follow me, gentlemen. We must begin our melancholy task.”
CHAPTER V.
THE INVESTIGATION CONTINUED.
Among all the tragic and even terrible recollections which live in my memory, and of which my life has perhaps had more than its share, the most terrible is that of the first few days of my stay in Luttach. Even now they sometimes disturb my sleep at night. In dreams, I am once more in the s.p.a.cious, dreary room of the Lonely House, with the stiffened corpse of the murdered man before me on the floor. The sunlight through the window falls upon his pale face with its distorted features. I see the terrible wound, and the hard, rasping voice of the District Physician strikes upon my ear as with professional calmness he examines the wound and with all the indifference with which he would discuss the commonest affair of business, explains that any suspicion of suicide is out of the question, coldly pointing out to us bystanders, grouped about the body, our faces pale and awed, the numerous wounds of which any one would have been mortal, and endeavouring with perfect calmness to prove that the murderer had first attacked his victim from behind, and had finally cut the throat to make sure that the deed was complete.
I still hear in dreams the clear, incisive words showing that the murderer must certainly have been intimately acquainted with the murdered man's ways, and that in order to avoid any possibility of the old man's divulging his name with his dying breath, he had inflicted the last gaping wound.
Fearful as had been the impression made upon me in the morning by my discovery, it had not so curdled my blood with horror as did this examination of the body. The necessity for action, the danger which possibly threatened me from the murderer concealed in the house, had strengthened and quickened me in the morning; but now, when I was forced to stand by, an inactive spectator of this terrible scene, the whole horror of the affair for the first time presented itself to my consciousness.
The absence of all emotion, the inflexible indifference of the District Physician, who, as I learned from the Clerk, had been the friend and physician of old Pollenz, deepened the impression which rendered me almost incapable of connected thought.
I was a prey during the entire investigation to intense nervous agitation. I saw and heard everything that went on around me so clearly that the smallest detail remains stamped upon my memory, but I was incapable of connected thought, of drawing conclusions from what I heard and saw. This I was able to do only later when removed from the spell thus thrown around me. The investigation produced a most agitating effect upon the Clerk also, and in especial upon the Judge, but they could not leave, and were obliged to fulfil their official duty. The Clerk was very pale, but quiet and composed throughout; but the Judge was obliged to exert all his self-control to conquer his excitement, while the physician, still handling the body, demonstrated with great clearness, almost as if he had been a witness of it, the manner in which the murder had been committed.
But however intense his emotion, the Judge proved himself equal to the task his office imposed upon him. When the time came to search the room he displayed the greatest care and circ.u.mspection. The b.l.o.o.d.y knife lying upon the floor at some distance from the body was, of course, the first object of his notice.
”There lies the weapon with which the deed was committed,” he cried.
”Fortunately, the murderer has left it behind. It may afford a clue in his detection.”
But this hope proved to be unfounded. The Clerk testified that the knife was the same which old Pollenz had always carried as a weapon of defense. Whereupon the Judge confirmed what he said; he had seen the knife in his friend's possession, and recognized it, but doubtless it was the weapon with which the crime was committed. ”Most certainly,”
the Judge added, with keen observation, ”the murderer must have s.n.a.t.c.hed it from the old man as he tried to defend himself, and in so doing caused a struggle; the knife must have wounded the murderer in the hand, since its handle is stained with blood. We shall undoubtedly find further traces of his bleeding hand there in the cabinet which he broke open, and from which he scattered the papers lying about.”
The Judged supposition proved correct. Inside the cabinet, as well as upon the open drawers, there were distinct traces of b.l.o.o.d.y fingers, and they were also found upon some of the papers strewn on the floor, which the murderer had taken from the cabinet but tossed aside as useless.
It was in this cabinet, as the Judge and the physician both testified, that old Pollenz had kept his money and papers of value. The murderer must have been familiar with this place of deposit, for he had opened only those drawers used for the purpose. The others, which contained receipted bills and worthless papers, had not been opened. The closest search failed to discover either money or papers of value, such as promissory notes or similar doc.u.ments. All such had been abstracted. On the other hand, an old gold watch, a heavy gold snuffbox, both articles of value, remained untouched.
”The murderer is no common thief or burglar,” the Judge said calmly.
”Such an one would not have despised valuable articles like these.”
”Certainly not,” the physician added; ”my firm belief is that he was an intimate acquaintance of old Pollenz. None other would have opened those drawers unless they knew they would reward a search.”
”Unfortunately, this is the only hint we have to put us upon the trace of the criminal,” the Judge said in a tone of disappointment. ”Our melancholy investigation has had no result of value.”
This was indeed so. The murderer had left the Lonely House without leaving any traces except those of his bleeding hand. In spite of the most careful search, nothing further was discovered. The Judge set down in his deposition all that had been done. It was as clear and well composed as that which he had written previously in his room. I confirmed his report that I had found the Lonely House and in especial the room in which the crime had been committed in the same condition in which I had left it. It now remained for the Judge to fulfil the hardest part of his task. He was obliged to examine the daughter and the old servant of the murdered man. He evidently feared to meet with difficulties caused by the aversion to him which the fair Anna had so openly expressed, but it was necessary to make this examination in order to find some explanation of the surprising fact that the Lonely House, usually so carefully locked, should have been left wide open at midday.
The Judge's fear, however, proved to be groundless. He found Anna in her room, wonderfully quiet and composed. She immediately declared herself ready to be examined, and only asked that the Captain, the Clerk and myself should be the sole witnesses present. The Judge willingly granted this request, and every difficulty was removed. She testified that she had that day had her breakfast as usual with her father at eleven o'clock, and, close upon twelve, had left the Lonely House with Johanna to make some purchases in Luttach, and at the same time to visit her old aunt. Her father, as usual, accompanied her to the front door and locked and bolted it behind her. It was his custom when left alone in the house to bolt himself into his sitting-room.
Whenever any one knocked at the front door, he always first made sure of his visitor by looking out of the window, and, when he was alone, never allowed a stranger to cross his threshold. Even acquaintances in whom perchance he did not repose entire confidence were always dismissed by him from the window. He did not even open the door for them. As to her father's property in papers of value and money, Anna knew nothing. Her father had never talked with her about his pecuniary circ.u.mstances. She could not possibly tell of how much he had been robbed.
With perfect composure Anna gave her testimony, but, when in conclusion the Judge asked her if she had met any one upon her way to Luttach, the colour suddenly mounted to her cheek and as quickly left it, and her ”no” was by no means so clear and decided as had been her earlier report. She blushed still more deeply when the Judge asked if her father had any special mistrust of any of his acquaintances, and a.s.sured her that what she should say would be entirely confidential, even if there should be nothing in her reply to arouse suspicion.
”I will not answer this question,” Anna replied, after she had stood for a moment with downcast eyes. ”No one in the world has a right to ask such a question, and you least of all.”
To this declaration she adhered, and the Judge was obliged to finish his deposition without learning anything further from her. The examination of old Johanna also produced no further result.
Thus the examination ended, and the Judge could no longer refuse to allow the daughter to see her father's body. Conducted by Captain Pollenz, Anna entered the old man's sleeping-room, where the captain of gendarmes and the physician had laid the murdered man upon the bed. The Captain afterwards told me that the composure shown by the young girl at the terrible sight had filled him with genuine admiration. She kneeled beside the bed on which the corpse had been laid. She took the cold, stiff hand in hers and kissed it, while tears rolled over her cheeks. The Captain would have said a few words to comfort her, but she interrupted him.