The Case of the Pool of Blood in the Pastor's Study

by Auguste Groner

others, but only a keen attentionand a lively interest.

  "Who has been in this room since the discovery?" he asked.

  The doctor replied that only the servants of the immediate household,the notary, the magistrate, and himself, then later the Count and thedistrict judge entered the room.

  "You are quite certain that no one else has been in here?"

  "No, no one else."

  "Will you kindly send for the three servants?" The magistrate left theroom.

  "Who else lives in the house?"

  "The sexton and the dairymaid."

  "And no one else has left the house to-day or has entered it?"

  "No one. The main door has been watched all day by a gendarme."

  "Is there but one door out of this room?"

  "No, there is a small door beside that bookcase."

  "Where does it lead to?"

  "It leads to a passageway at the end of which there is a stair down intothe vestry."

  Muller gave an exclamation of surprise.

  "The vestry as well as the church have neither of them been opened onthe side toward the street."

  "The church or the vestry, you mean," corrected Muller. "How many doorshave they on the street side?"

  "One each."

  "The locks on these doors were in good condition?"

  "Yes, they were untouched."

  "Was there anything stolen from the church?"

  "No, nothing that we could see."

  "Was the pastor rich?"

  "No, he was almost a poor man, for he gave away all that he had."

  "But you were his patron, Count."

  "I was his friend. He was the confidential adviser of myself andfamily."

  "This would mean rich presents now and then, would it not?"

  "No, that is not the case. Our venerable pastor would take nothing forhimself. He would accept no presents but gifts of money for his poor."

  "Then you do not believe this to have been a murder for the sake ofrobbery?"

  "No. There was nothing disturbed in any part of the house, no drawers orcupboards broken open at all."

  Muller smiled. "I have heard it said that your romantic Hungarianbandits will often be satisfied with the small booty they may find inthe pocket or on the person of their victim."

  "You are right, Mr. Muller. But that is only when they can find nothingelse."

  "Or perhaps if it is a case of revenge.

  "It cannot be revenge in this case!"

  "The pastor was greatly loved?"

  "He was loved and revered."

  "By every one?"

  "By every one!" the four men answered at once.

  Muller was still a while. His eyes were veiled and his face thoughtful.Finally he raised his head. "There has been nothing moved or changed inthis room?"

  "No--neither here nor anywhere else in the house or the church,"answered the local magistrate.

  "That is good. Now I would like to question the servants."

  Muller had already started for the door, then he turned back intothe room and pointing toward the second door he asked: "Is that doorlocked?"

  "Yes," answered the Count. "I found it locked when I examined it myselfa short time ago."

  "It was locked on the inside?"

  "Yes, locked on the inside."

  "Very well. Then we have nothing more to do here for the time being. Letus go back into the dining-room."

  The men returned to the dining-room, Muller last, for he stopped to lockthe door of the study and put the key in his pocket. Then he began hisexamination of the servants.

  The old housekeeper, who, as usual, was the first to rise in thehousehold, had also, as usual, rung the bell to waken the otherservants. Then when Liska came downstairs she had sent her up to thepastor's room. His bedroom was to the right of the dining-room.Liska had, as usual, knocked on the door exactly at seven o'clock andcontinued knocking for some few minutes without receiving any answer.Slightly alarmed, the girl had gone back and told the housekeeper thatthe pastor did not answer.

  Then the old woman asked the coachman to go up and see if anythingwas the matter with the reverend gentleman. The man returned in a fewmoments, pale and trembling in every limb and apparently struck dumb byfright. He motioned the women to follow him, and all three crept upthe stairs. The coachman led them first to the pastor's bed, which wasuntouched, and then to the pool of blood in his study. The sight of thelatter frightened the servants so much that they did not notice at firstthat there was no sign of the pastor himself, whom they now knew musthave been murdered. When they finally came to themselves sufficiently totake some action, the man hurried off to call the magistrate, and Liskaran to the asylum to fetch the old doctor; the pastor's intimate friend.The aged housekeeper, trembling in fear, crept back to her own room andsat there waiting the return of the others.

  This was the story of the early morning as told by the three servants,who had already given their report in much the same words to the Counton his arrival and also to the magistrate. There was no reason to doubtthe words of either the old housekeeper or of Janos, the coachman, whohad served for more than twenty years in the rectory and whose fidelitywas known. The girl Liska was scarcely eighteen, and her round childishface and big eyes dimmed with tears, corroborated her story. When theyhad told Muller all they knew, the detective sat stroking his chin, andlooking thoughtfully at the floor. Then he raised his head and said,in a tone of calm friendliness: "Well, good friends, this will do forto-night. Now, if you will kindly give me a bite to eat and a glass ofsome light wine, I'd be very thankful. I have had no food since earlythis morning."

  The housekeeper and the maid disappeared, and Janos went to the stableto harness the Count's trap.

  The magnate turned to the detective. "I thank you once more that youhave come to us. I appreciate it greatly that a stranger to our part ofthe country, like yourself, should give his time and strength to thisproblem of our obscure little village."

  "There is nothing else calling me, sir," answered Muller. "And theBudapest police will explain to headquarters at Vienna if I do notreturn at once."

  "Do you understand our tongue sufficiently to deal with these peoplehere?"

  "Oh, yes; there will be no difficulty about that. I have huntedcriminals in Hungary before. And a case of this kind does not usuallycall for disguises in which any accent would betray one."

  "It is a strange profession," said the doctor.

  "One gets used to it--like everything else," answered Muller, with agentle smile. "And now I have to thank you gentlemen for your confidencein me."

  "Which I know you will justify," said the Count.

  Muller shrugged his shoulders: "I haven't felt anything yet--but it willcome--there's something in the air."

  The Count smiled at his manner of expressing himself, but all fourof the men had already begun to feel sympathy and respect for thisquiet-mannered little person whose words were so few and whose voice wasso gentle. Something in his grey eyes and in the quiet determination ofhis manner made them realise that he had won his fame honestly. With theenthusiasm of his race the Hungarian Count pressed the detective's handin a warm grasp as he said: "I know that we can trust in you. You willavenge the death of my old friend and of those others who were killedhere. The doctor and the magistrate will tell you about them to-morrow.We two will go home now. Telegraph us as soon as anything has happened.Every one in the village will be ready to help you and of course you cancall on me for funds. Here is something to begin on." With these wordsthe Count laid a silk purse full of gold pieces on the table. One morepressure of the hand and he was gone. The other men also left the room,following the Count's lead in a cordial farewell of the detective. Theyalso shared the nobleman's feeling that now indeed, with this man tohelp them, could the cloud of horror that had hung over the village fortwo years, and had culminated in the present catastrophe, be lifted.

  The excitement of the Count's departure had died away and the steps ofthe other men on their way to
the village had faded in the distance.There was nothing now to be heard but the rustling of the leaves and thecreaking of the boughs as the trees bent before the onrush of the wind.Muller stood alone, with folded arms, in the middle of the large room,letting his sharp eyes wander about the circle of light thrown by thelamps. He was glad to be alone--for only when he was alone could hisbrain do its best work. He took up one of the lamps and opened the doorto the room in which, as far as could be known, the murder had beencommitted. He walked in carefully and, setting the lamp on the desk,examined the articles lying about on it. There was nothing of importanceto be found there. An open Bible and a sheet of paper with notes for