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

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The Case of the Pool of Blood in the Pastor's Study Page 7

by Auguste Groner

pastor's murder had gotten on his nerves.He was not accustomed to work so long over a problem without gettingsome light on it. But now, since the chance watching of the spinningtop in the street had given him his first inkling of the trail, he wasfollowing it up to a clear issue. The eagerness, the blissful vibratingof every nerve that he always felt at this stage of the game, was on himagain. He knew that from now on what was still to be done would be easy.Hitherto his mind had been made up on one point; that one man alone wasconcerned in the crime. Now he understood the possibility that theremight have been two, the harmless mechanician who fancied himself adangerous murderer, and the handsome young giant with the evil eyes.

  The two men stood looking at each other in a silence that was almosthostile. Had this stranger come to disturb the peace of the refuge forthe unfortunate and to prove that Dr. Orszay, the friend of all thevillage, had unwittingly been giving shelter to such criminals?

  "Shall we go now?" asked the detective finally.

  "If you wish it, sir," answered the doctor in a tone that was decidedlycool.

  Muller held out his hand. "Don't let us be foolish, doctor. If youshould find yourself terribly deceived, and I should have been the meansof proving it, promise me that you will not be angry with me."

  Orszay pressed the offered hand with a deep sigh. He realised theother's position and knew it was his duty to give him every possibleassistance. "What is there for me to do now?" he asked sadly.

  "You must see that all the patients are shut up in their cells so thatthe other attendants are at our disposal if we need them. Varna's roomhas barred windows, I suppose?"

  "Yes."

  "And I suppose also that it has but one door. I believe you told me thatyour asylum was built on the cell system."

  "Yes, there is but one door to the room."

  "Let the four other attendants stand outside this door. Gyuri will beinside with us. Tell the men outside that they are to seize and holdwhomever I shall designate to them. I will call them in by a whistle.You can trust your people?"

  "Yes, I think I can."

  "Well, I have my revolver," said Muller calmly, "and now we can go."

  They left the room together, and found Gyuri waiting for them a littlefurther along the corridor. "Aren't you well, sir?" the attendant askedthe doctor, with an anxious note in his voice.

  The man's anxiety was not feigned. He was really a faithful servant inhis devotion to the old doctor, although Muller had not misjudged himwhen he decided that this young giant was capable of anything. Good andevil often lie so close together in the human heart.

  The doctor's emotion prevented him from speaking, and the detectiveanswered in his place. "It is a sudden indisposition," he said. "Leadme to No. 302, who is waiting for us, I suppose. The doctor wants to liedown a moment in his own room."

  Gyuri glanced distrustfully at this man whom he had met for the firsttime to-day, but who was no stranger to him--for he had already learnedthe identity of the guest in the rectory. Then he turned his eyes on hismaster. The latter nodded and said: "Take the gentleman to Varna's room.I will follow shortly."

  The cell to which they went was the first one at the head of thestaircase. "Extremely convenient," thought Muller to himself. It was alarge room, comfortably furnished and filled now with the red glow ofthe setting sun. A turning-lathe stood by the window and an elderly manwas at work at it. Gyuri called to him and he turned and rose when hesaw a stranger.

  Lajos Varna was a tall, loose-jointed man with sallow skin and tiredeyes. He gave only a hasty glance at his visitor, then looked at Gyuri.The expression in his eyes as he turned them on those of the warderwas like the look in the eyes of a well-trained dog when it watches itsmaster's face. Gyuri's brows were drawn close together and his mouthset tight to a narrow line. His eyes fairly bored themselves into thepatient's eyes with an expression like that of a hypnotiser.

  Muller knew now what he wanted to know. This young man understood howto bend the will of others, even the will of a sick mind, to his owndesires. The little silent scene he had watched had lasted just thelength of time it had taken the detective to walk through the room andhold out his hand to the patient.

  "I don't want to disturb you, Mr. Varna," he said in a friendly tone,with a motion towards the bench from which the mechanician had justarisen. Varna sat down again, obedient as a child. He was not always soapparently, for Muller saw a red mark over the fingers of one handthat was evidently the mark of a blow. Gyuri was not very choice in themethods by which he controlled the patients confided to his care.

  "May I sit down also?" asked Muller.

  Varna pushed forward a chair. His movements were like those of anautomaton.

  "And now tell me how you like it here?" began the detective. Varnaanswered with a low soft voice, "Oh, I like it very much, sir." As hespoke he looked up at Gyuri, whose eyes still bore their commandingexpression.

  "They treat you kindly here?"

  "Oh, yes."

  "The doctor is very good to you?"

  "Ah, the doctor is so good!" Varna's dull eyes brightened.

  "And the others are good to you also?"

  "Oh, yes." The momentary gleam in the sad eye had vanished again.

  "Where did you get this red scar?"

  The patient became uneasy, he moved anxiously on his chair and looked upat Gyuri. It was evident that he realised there would be more red marksif he told the truth to this stranger.

  Muller did not insist upon an answer. "You are uneasy and nervoussometimes, aren't you?"

  "Yes, sir, I have been--nervous--lately."

  "And they don't let you go out at such times?"

  "Why, I--no, I may not go out at such times."

  "But the doctor takes you with him sometimes--the doctor or Gyuri?"asked the detective.

  "Yes."

  "I haven't had him out with me for weeks," interrupted the attendant.He seemed particularly anxious to have the "for weeks" clearly heard bythis inconvenient questioner.

  Muller dropped this subject and took up another. "They tell me you arevery fond of children, and I can see that you are making toys for themhere."

  "Yes, I love children, and I am so glad they are not afraid of me."These words were spoken with more warmth and greater interest thananything the man had yet said.

  "And they tell me that you take gifts with you for the children everytime you go down to the village. This is pretty work here, and it mustbe a pleasant diversion for you." Muller had taken up a dainty littlespinning-wheel which was almost completed. "Isn't it made from the woodof a red yew tree?"

  "Yes, the doctor gave me a whole tree that had been cut down in thepark."

  "And that gave you wood for a long time?"

  "Yes, indeed; I have been making toys from it for months." Varna hadbecome quite eager and interested as he handed his visitor a number ofpretty trifles. The two had risen from their chairs and were leaningover the wide window seat which served as a store-house for the waresturned out by the busy workman. They were toys, mostly, all sortsof little pots and plates, dolls' furniture, balls of various sizes,miniature bowling pins, and tops. Muller took up one of the latter.

  "How very clever you are, and how industrious," he exclaimed, sittingdown again and turning the top in his hands. It was covered with greyvarnish with tiny little yellow stripes painted on it. Towards the lowerpoint a little bit of the varnish had been broken off and the reddishwood underneath was visible. The top was much better constructed thanthe cheap toys sold in the village. It was hollow and contained in itsinterior a mechanism started by a pressure on the upper end. Once set inmotion the little top spun about the room for some time.

  "Oh, isn't that pretty! Is this mechanism your own invention?" askedMuller smiling. Gyuri watched the top with drawn brows and murmuredsomething about "childish foolishness."

  "Yes, it is my own invention," said the patient, flattered. He startedout on an absolutely technical explanation of the mechanism of tops ingeneral and of his own in partic
ular, an explanation so lucid and sowell put that no one would have believed the man who was speaking wasnot in possession of the full powers of his mind.

  Muller listened very attentively with unfeigned interest.

  "But you have made more important inventions than this, haven't you?" heasked when the other stopped talking. Varna's eyes flashed and his voicedropped to a tone of mystery as he answered: "Yes indeed I have. But Idid not have time to finish them. For I had become some one else."

  "Some one else?"

  "Cardillac," whispered Varna, whose mania was now getting the best ofhim again.

  "Cardillac? You mean the notorious goldsmith who lived in Paris 200years ago? Why, he's dead."

  Varna's pale lips curled in a superior smile. "Oh, yes--that'swhat people think, but it's a mistake. He is still alive--I am--Ihave--although of course there isn't much opportunity here--"

  Gyuri cleared his throat with a rasping noise.

  "What were you saying, friend Cardillac?" asked Muller with a great showof interest.

  "I have done things here that nobody has found out. It gives me greatpleasure to see the authorities so helpless over the riddles I havegiven them to solve. Oh, indeed, sir, you would never imagine how stupidthey are here."

  "In other words, friend Cardillac, you are too clever for theauthorities here?

  "Yes, that's it," said the insane man greatly flattered. He raised hishead proudly and smiled down at his guest. At this moment the doctorcame into the room and Gyuri walked forward to the group at the window.

  "You are making him nervous, sir," he said to Muller in a tone that wasalmost harsh.

  "You can leave that to me," answered the detective calmly. "And you willplease place yourself behind Mr. Varna's chair, not behind mine. It isyour eyes that are making him uneasy."

  The attendant was alarmed and lost control of himself for a moment."Sir!" he exclaimed in an outburst.

  "My name is Muller, in case you do not know it already, Joseph Muller,detective. Gyuri Kovacz, you will do what I tell you to! I am masterhere just now. Is it not so, doctor?"

  "Yes, it is so," said the doctor.

  "What does this mean?" murmured Gyuri, turning pale.

  "It means that the best thing for you to do is to stand up against thatwall and fold your arms on your breast," said Muller firmly. He took arevolver from his pocket and laid it beside him on the turning-lathe.The young giant, cowed by the sight of the weapon, obeyed the commandsof this little man whom he could have easily crushed with a single blow.

  Dr. Orszay sank down on the chair beside the door. Muller, nowcompletely master of the situation, turned to the insane man who stoodlooking at him in a surprise which was mingled with admiration.

  "And now, my dear Cardillac, you must tell us of your great deeds here,"said the detective in a friendly tone.

  The unfortunate man bent over him with shining eyes and whispered: "Butyou'll shoot him first, won't you?"

  "Why should I shoot him?"

  "Because he won't let me say a word without beating me. He is so cruel.He sticks pins into me if I don't do what he wants."

  "Why didn't you tell the doctor?"

  "Gyuri would have treated me worse than ever then. I am a coward, sir,I'm so afraid of pain and he knew that--he knew that I was afraid ofbeing hurt and that I'd always do what he asked of me. And because Idon't like to be hurt myself I always finished them off quickly."

  "Finished who?"

  "Why, there was Red Betty, he wanted her money."

  "Who wanted it?"

  "Gyuri."

  The man at the wall moved when he heard this terrible accusation. Butthe detective took up his revolver again. "Be quiet there!" he called,with a look such as he might have thrown at an angry dog. Gyuri stoodquiet again but his eyes shot flames and great drops stood out on hisforehead.

  "Now go on, friend Cardillac," continued the detective. "We were talkingabout Red Betty."

  "I strangled her. She did not even know she was dying. She was such aweak old woman, it really couldn't have hurt her."

  "No, certainly not," said Muller soothingly, for he saw that the thoughtthat his victim might have suffered was beginning to make the madmanuneasy. "You needn't worry about that. Old Betty died a quiet death. Buttell me, how did Gyuri know that she had money?"

  "The whole village knew it. She laid cards for people and earned a lotof money that way. She was very stingy and saved every bit. Somebody sawher counting out her money once, she had it in a big stocking under herbed. People in the village talked about it. That's how Gyuri heard ofit."

  "And so he commanded you to kill Betty and steal her money?"

  "Yes. He knew that I loved to give them riddles to guess, just as I didin Paris so long ago."

  "Oh, yes, you're Cardillac, aren't you? And now tell us about thesmith's swineherd."

  "You mean Janos? Oh, he was a stupid lout," answered Varna scornfully.

  "He had cast an eye on the beautiful Julcsi, Gyuri's mistress, so ofcourse I had to kill him."

  "Did you do that alone?"

  "No, Gyuri helped me."

  "Why did you cut the bridge supports?"

  "Because I enjoy giving people riddles, as I told you. But Gyuri forbademe to kill people uselessly. I liked the chance of getting out though.The doctor's so good to me and the others too. Gyuri is good to mewhen I have done what he wanted. But you see, Mr. Muller, I am like aprisoner here and that makes me angry. I made Gyuri let me out nightssometimes."

  "You mean he let you out alone, all alone?"

  "Yes, of course, for I threatened to tell the doctor everything if hedidn't."

  "You wouldn't have dared do that."

  "No, that's true," smiled Varna slyly. "But Gyuri was afraid I mightdo it, for he isn't always strong enough to frighten me with hiseyes. Those were the hours when I could make him afraid--I liked thosehours--"

  "What did you do when you were out alone at night?"

  "I just walked about. I set fire to a tree in the woods once, then therain came and put it out. Once I killed a dog and another time I cutthrough the bridge supports. That took me several hours to do and mademe very tired. But it was such fun to know that people would be worryingand fussing about who did it."

  Varna rubbed his hands gleefully. He did not look the least bitmalicious but only very much amused. The doctor groaned. Gyuri's greatbody trembled, his arms shook, but he did not make a single voluntarymovement. He saw the revolver in Muller's hand and felt the keen greyeyes resting on him in pitiless calm.

  "And now tell us about the pastor?" said the detective in a firm clearvoice.

  "Oh, he was a dear, good gentleman," said No. 302 with an expression ofpitying sorrow on his face. "I owed him much gratitude; that's why I putthe roses in his hand."

  "Yes, but you murdered him first."

  "Of course, Gyuri told me to."

  "And why?"

  "He hated the pastor, for the old gentleman had no confidence in him."

  "Is this true?" Muller turned to the doctor.

  "I did not notice it," said Orszay with a voice that showed deep sorrow.

  "And you?" Muller's eyes bored themselves into the orbs of the younggiant, now dulled with fear.

  Gyuri started and shivered. "He looked at me sharply every now andthen," he murmured.

  "And that was why he was killed?"

  The warder's head sank on his breast.

  "No, not only for that reason," continued No. 302. "Gyuri needed moneyagain. He ordered me to bring him the silver candlesticks off thealtar."

  "Murder and sacrilege," said the detective calmly.

  "No, I did not rob the church. When I had buried the reverend gentlemanI heard the cock crowing. I was afraid I might get home here too lateand I forgot the candlesticks. I had to stop to wash my hands in thebrook. While I was there I saw shepherd Janci coming along and I hidbehind the willows. He almost discovered me once, but Janci's adreamer, he sees things nobody else sees--and he doesn't see thin
gs thateverybody else does see. I couldn't help laughing at his sleepy face.But I didn't laugh when I came back to the asylum. Gyuri was waiting forme at the door. When he saw that I hadn't brought the candlesticks hebeat me and tortured me worse than he'd ever done before."

  "And you didn't tell anyone?"

  "Why, no; because I was afraid that if I told on him, I'd never be ableto go out again."

  "And you, quite alone, could carry the pastor's body out of his room?"

  "I am very strong."

  "How did you arrange it that there should be no traces of blood tobetray you?"

  "I waited until the body had stiffened, then I tied up the wound andcarried him down into the crypt."

  "Why did you do that?"

  "I didn't want to leave him in that horrid pool of blood."

  "You were sorry for him then?"

  "Why, yes; it looked so horrid to see him lying there--and he hadalways been so good to me. He was so good to me that very evening when Ientered his study.

  "He recognised you?

  "Certainly. He sprang up from his chair when I came in through thepassage from the church. I saw that he was startled, but he smiled at meand reached out his hand to me and said: 'What brings you here, my dearCardillac?' And then I struck. I wanted him to die with that smile onhis lips. It is beautiful to see a man die smiling, it shows that he hasnot been afraid of death. He was dead at once. I always kill that way--Iknow just how to strike and where. I killed more than a hundred peopleyears ago in Paris, and I didn't leave one of them the time for even asigh. I was renowned for that--I had a kind heart and a sure hand."

  Muller interrupted the dreadful imaginings of the madman with aquestion. "You got into the house through the crypt?"

  "Yes, through the crypt. I found the window one night when I wasprowling around in the churchyard. When I knew that the pastor was to bethe next, I cut through the window bars. Gyuri went into the church oneday when nobody was there and found out that it was easy to lift thestone over the entrance to the crypt. He also learned that the doorsfrom the church to the vestry were never locked. I knew how to find thepassageway, because I had been through it several times on my visits tothe rectory. But it was a mere chance that the door into the pastor'sstudy was unlocked."

  "A chance that cost the life of a worthy man," said the detectivegravely.

  Varna nodded sadly. "But he didn't suffer, he was dead at once."

  "And now tell me what this top was doing there?" No. 302 looked at thedetective in great surprise, and then laid his hand on the latter's arm."How did you know that I had the top there?" he asked with a show ofinterest.

  "I found its traces in the room, and it was those traces that led mehere to you," answered Muller.

  "How strange!" remarked Varna. "Are you like shepherd Janci that you cansee the things others don't see?"

  "No, I have not Janci's gift. It would be a great comfort to me and ahelp to the others perhaps if I had. I can only see things after theyhave happened."

  "But you can see more than others--the others did not see the traces ofthe top?"

  "My business is to see more than others see," said Muller. "But you havenot told me yet what the top was doing there. Why did you take a toylike that with you when you went out on such an errand?"

  "It was in my pocket by chance. When I reached for my handkerchief toquench the flow of blood the top came out with it. I must have touchedthe spring without knowing it, for the top began to spin. I stood stilland watched it, then I ran after it. It spun around the room and finallycame back to the body. So did I. The pastor was quite still and dead bythat time."

  "You have heard everything, Dr. Orszay?" asked the detective, risingfrom his chair.

  "Yes, I have heard everything," answered the venerable head of theasylum. He was utterly crushed by the realisation that all this tragedyand horror had gone out from his house.

  Varna rose also. He understood perfectly that now Gyuri's power wasat an end and he was as pleased as a child that has just received apresent. "And now you're going to shoot him?" he asked, in the tone aboy would use if asking when the fireworks were to begin.

  Muller shook his head. "No, my dear Cardillac," he replied gravely. "Hewill not be shot--that is a death for a brave soldier--but this man hasdeserved--" He did not finish the sentence, for the warder sank to thefloor unconscious.

  "What a coward!" murmured the detective scornfully, looking down at thegiant frame that lay prostrate before him. Even in his wide experiencehe had known of no case of a man of such strength and such bestialcruelty, combined with such utter cowardice.

  Varna also stood looking down at the unconscious warder. Then he glancedup with a cunning smile at the other two men who stood there. Thedoctor, pale and trembling with horror, covered his face with his hands.Muller turned to the door to call in the attendants waiting outside.During the moment's pause that ensued the madman bent over hisworktable, seized a knife that lay there and dropped on one knee besidethe prostrate form. His hand was raised to strike when a calm voicesaid: "Fie! Cardillac, for shame! Do not belittle yourself. This manhere is not worthy of your knife, the hangman will look after him."

  Varna raised his loose-jointed frame and looked about with glisteningeyes and trembling lips. His mind was completely darkened once more."I must kill him--I must have his blood--there is no one to see me," hemurmured. "I am a hangman too--he has made a hangman of me," and againhe bent with uplifted hand over the man who had utilised his terriblemisfortune to make a criminal of him. But two of the waiting attendantsseized his arms and threw him back on the floor, while the other twocarted Gyuri out. Both unfortunates were soon securely guarded.

  "Do not be angry with me, doctor," said Muller gravely, as he walkedthrough the garden accompanied by Orszay.

  Doctor Orszay laughed bitterly. "Why should I be angry with you--youwho have discovered my inexcusable credulity?"

  "Inexcusable? Oh, no, doctor; it was quite natural that you should havebelieved a man who had himself so well in hand, and who knew so wellhow to play his part. When we come to think of it, we realise thatmost crimes have been made possible through some one's credulity, orover-confidence, a credulity which, in the light of subsequent events,seems quite incomprehensible. Do not reproach yourself and do not loseheart. Your only fault was that you did not recognise the heart of thebeast of prey in this admirable human form."

  "What course will the law take?" asked Orszay. "The poor unfortunatemadman--whose knife took all these lives--cannot be held responsible,can he?"

  "Oh, no; his misfortune protects him. But as for the other, though hishands bear no actual bloodstains, he is more truly a murderer than theunhappy man who was his tool. Hanging is too good for him. There aretimes when even I could wish that we were back in the Middle Ages, whenit was possible to torture a prisoner.

  "You do not look like that sort of a man," smiled the doctor through hissadness.

  "No, I am the most good-natured of men usually, I think--the meekestanyway," answered Muller. "But a case like this--. However, as I saidbefore, keep a stout heart, doctor, and do not waste time in unnecessaryself-reproachings." The detective pressed the doctor's hand warmly andwalked down the hill towards the village.

  He went at once to the office of the magistrate and made his report,then returned to the rectory and packed his grip. He arranged for itstransport to the railway station, as he himself preferred to walk theinconsiderable distance. He passed through the village and had justentered the open fields when he met Janci with his flock. The shepherdhastened his steps when he saw the detective approaching.

  "You have found him, sir?" he exclaimed as he came up to Muller. The menhad come to be friends by this time. The silent shepherd with the powerof second sight had won Muller's interest at once.

  "Yes, I found him. It is Gyuri, the warder at the asylum."

  "No, sir, it is not Gyuri--Gyuri did not do it."

  "But when I tell you that he did?"

  "But I tell you, si
r, that Gyuri did not do it. The man who did it--hehas yellowish hands--I saw them--I saw big yellowish hands. Gyuri'shands are big, but they are brown."

  "Janci, you are right. I was only trying to test you. Gyuri did not doit; that is, he did not do it with his own hands. The man who held theknife that struck down the pastor was Varna, the crazy mechanician."

  Janci beat his forehead. "Oh, I am a foolish and useless dreamer!" heexclaimed; "of course it was Varna's hands that I saw. I have seen thema hundred times when he came down into the village, and yet when I sawthem in the vision I did not recognise them."

  "We're all dreamers, Janci--and our dreams are very useless generally."

  "Yours are not useless, sir," said the shepherd. "If I had as muchbrains as you have, my dreams might be of some good."

  Muller smiled. "And if I had your visions, Janci, it would be a powerfulaid to me in my profession."

  "I don't think you need them, sir. You can find out the hidden thingswithout them. You are going to leave us?"

  "Yes, Janci, I must go back to Budapest, and from there to Vienna. Theyneed me on another case."

  "It's a sad work, this bringing people to the gallows, isn't it?"

  "Yes, Janci, it is sometimes. But it's a good thing to be able to avengecrime and bring justice to the injured. Good-bye, Janci."

  "Good-bye, sir, and God speed you."

  The shepherd stood looking after the small, slight figure of the manwho walked on rapidly through the heather. "He's the right one for thework," murmured Janci as he turned slowly back towards the village.

  An hour later Muller stood in the

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