The Case of the Lamp That Went Out

by Auguste Groner

  CHAPTER II. THE BROKEN WILLOW TWIG

  As soon as the corpse had been taken away, the police commissionerreturned to the station. But Muller remained there all alone to make athorough examination of the entire vicinity.

  It was not a very attractive spot, this particular part of the street.There must have been a nursery there at one time, for there were stillseveral ordered rows of small trees to be seen. There were traces offlower cultivation as well, for several trailing vines and overgrownbushes showed where shrubs had been grown which do not usually growwithout man's assistance. Immediately back of the old elder tree Mullerfound several fine examples of rare flowers, or rather he found theshrubs which his experienced eye recognised as having once borne theseunusual blossoms. One or two blooms still hung to the bushes and thedetective, who was a great lover of flowers, picked them and put them inhis buttonhole. While he did this, his keen eyes were darting about theplace taking in all the details. This vacant lot had evidently been usedas an unlicensed dumping ground for some time, for all sorts of odds andends, old boots, bits of stuff, silk and rags, broken bottles and emptytin cans, lay about between the bushes or half buried in the earth. Whathad once been an orderly garden was now an untidy receptacle for waste.The pedantically neat detective looked about him in disgust, thensuddenly he forgot his displeasure and a gleam shot up in his eye. Itwas very little, the thing this man had seen, this man who saw so muchmore than others.

  About ten paces from where he stood a high wooden fence hemmed in thelot. The fence belonged to the neighbouring property, as the lot inwhich he stood was not protected in any way. To the back it was closedoff by a corn field where the tall stalks rustled gently in the faintmorning breeze. All this could be seen by anybody and Muller had seen itall at his first glance. But now he had seen something else. Somethingthat excited him because it might possibly have some connection withthe newly discovered crime. His keen eyes, in glancing along the woodenfence at his right hand, had caught sight of a little twig which hadworked its way through the fence. This twig belonged to a willow treewhich grew on the other side, and which spread its grey-green foliageover the fence or through its wide openings. One of the little twigswhich had crept in between the planks was broken, and it had been brokenvery recently, for the leaves were still fresh and the sap was oozingfrom the crushed stem. Muller walked over to the fence and examined thetwig carefully. He soon saw how it came to be broken. The broken partwas about the height of a man's knee from the ground. And just at thisheight there was quite a space between two of the planks of the fence,heavy planks which were laid cross-ways and nailed to thick posts. Itwould have been very easy for anybody to get a foothold in this openspace between the planks.

  It was very evidently some foot thrust in between the planks which hadbroken the little willow twig, and its soft rind had left a greenmark on the lower plank. "I wonder if that has anything to do with themurder," thought Muller, looking over the fence into the lot on theother side.

  This neighbouring plot was evidently a neglected garden. It had onceworn an aristocratic air, with stone statues and artistic arrangementof flower beds and shrubs. It was still attractive even in its neglectedcondition. Beyond it, through the foliage of its heavy trees, glasswindows caught the sunlight. Muller remembered that there was ahandsome old house in this direction, a house with a mansard roof andwide-reaching wings. He did not now know to whom this handsome oldhouse belonged, a house that must have been built in the time of MariaTheresa,... but he was sure of one thing, and that was that he wouldsoon find out to whom it belonged. At present it was the garden whichinterested him, and he was anxious to see where it ended. A few moments'further inspection showed him what he wanted to know. The gardenextended to the beginning of the park-like grounds which surroundedthe old house with the mansard roof. A tall iron railing separated thegarden from the park, but this railing did not extend down as far as thequiet lane. Where it ended there was a light, well-built wooden fence.Along the street side of the fence there was a high thick hedge. Mullerwalked along this hedge until he came to a little gate. Then crossingthe street, he saw that the house whose windows glistened in thesunlight was a house which he knew well from its other side, its frontfacade.

  Now he went back to the elder tree and then walked slowly away from thisto the spot where he found the broken willow twig. He examined everyfoot of the ground, but there was nothing to be seen that was of anyinterest to him--not a footprint, or anything to prove that some oneelse had passed that way a short time before. And yet it would have beenimpossible to pass that way without leaving some trace, for the groundwas cut up in all directions by mole hills.

  Next the detective scrutinised as much of the surroundings as would comeinto immediate connection with the spot where the corpse had been found.There was nothing to be seen there either, and Muller was obligedto acknowledge that he had discovered nothing that would lead to anunderstanding of the crime, unless, indeed, the broken willow twigshould prove to be a clue. He sprang back across the ditch, turned upthe edges of his trousers where they had been moistened by the dew andwalked slowly along the dusty street. He was no longer alone in thelane. An old man, accompanied by a large dog, came out from one of thenew houses and walked towards the detective, he was very evidently goingin the direction of the elder-tree, which had already been such acentre of interest that morning. When he met Muller, the old man halted,touched his cap and asked in a confidential tone: "I suppose you've beento see the place already?"

  "Which place?" was Muller's reserved answer.

  "Why, I mean the place where they found the man who was murdered. Theyfound him under that elder-tree. My wife just heard of it and told me. Isuppose everybody round here will know it soon."

  "Was there a man murdered here?" asked Muller, as if surprised by thenews.

  "Yes, he was shot last night. Only I don't understand why I didn't hearthe shot. I couldn't sleep a wink all night for the pain in my bones."

  "You live near here, then?"

  "Yes, I live in No.1. Didn't you see me coming out?"

  "I didn't notice it. I came across the wet meadows and I stooped to turnup my trousers so that they wouldn't get dusty--it must have been thenyou came out."

  "Why, then you must have been right near the place I was talking about.Do you see that elder tree there? It's the only one in the street, andthe girl who brings the milk found the man under it. The police havebeen here already and have taken him away. They discovered him about sixo'clock and now it's just seven."

  "And you hadn't any suspicion that this dreadful thing was happening sonear you?" asked the detective casually.

  "I didn't know a thing, sir, not a thing. There couldn't have been afight or I would have heard it. But I don't know why I didn't hear theshot."

  "Why, then you must have been asleep after all, in spite of your pain,"said Muller with a smile, as he walked along beside the man back to theplace from which he had just come.

  The old man shook his head. "No, I tell you I didn't close an eye allnight. I went to bed at half-past nine and I smoked two pipes before Iput out the light, and then I heard every hour strike all night longand it wasn't until nearly five o'clock, when it was almost dawn, that Idozed off a bit."

  "Then it is astonishing that you didn't hear anything!"

  "Sure it's astonishing! But it's still more astonishing that my dogSultan didn't hear anything. Sultan is a famous watchdog, I'd have youknow. He'll growl if anybody passes through the street after dark, and Idon't see why he didn't notice what was going on over there last night.If a man's attacked, he generally calls for help; it's a queer businessall right."

  "Well, Sultan, why didn't you make a noise?" asked Muller, patting thedog's broad head. Sultan growled and walked on indifferently, after hehad shaken off the strange hand.

  "He must have slept more soundly than usual. He went off into thecountry with me yesterday. We had an errand to do there and on theway back we stopped in for a drink. Sultan takes a drop or tw
o himselfoccasionally, and that usually makes him sleep. I had hard work to bringhim home. We got here just a few minutes before half-past nine and Itell you we were both good and tired."

  By this time they had come to the elder-tree and the old man's stream oftalk ceased as he stood before the spot where the mysterious crime hadoccurred. He looked down thoughtfully at the grass, now trampled by manyfeet. "Who could have done it?" he murmured finally, with a sigh thatexpressed his pity for the victim.

  "Hietzing is known to be one of the safest spots in Vienna," remarkedMuller.

  "Indeed it is, sir; indeed it is. As it would well have to be with theroyal castles right here in the neighbourhood! Indeed it would have tobe safe with the Court coming here all the time."

  "Why, yes, you see more police here than anywhere else in the city."

  "Yes, they're always sticking their nose in where they're notnecessary," remarked the old man, not realising to whom he was speaking."They fuss about everything you do or don't do, and yet a man can beshot down right under our very noses here and the police can't help it."

  "But, my dear sir, it isn't always possible for the police to prevent acriminal carrying out his evil intention," said Muller good-naturedly.

  "Well, why not? if they watch out sharp enough?"

  "The police watch out sharper than most people think. But they can'tcatch a man until he has committed his crime, can they?"

  "No, I suppose not," said the old man, with another glance at theelder-tree. He bowed to Muller and turned and walked away.

  Muller followed him slowly, very much pleased with this meeting, forit had given him a new clue. There was no reason to doubt the old man'sstory. And if this story was true, then the crime had been committedbefore half-past nine of the evening previous. For the old man--he wasevidently the janitor in No.1--had not heard the shot.

  Muller left the scene of the crime and walked towards the four houses.Before he reached them he had to pass the garden which belonged to thehouse with the mansard roof. Right and left of this garden were vacantlots, as well as on the opposite side of the street. Then came to theright and left the four new houses which stood at the beginning of thequiet lane. Muller passed them, turned up a cross street and thendown again, into the street running parallel, to the lane, a quietaristocratic street on which fronted the house with the mansard roof.

  A carriage stood in front of this house, two great trunks piled up onthe box beside the driver. A young girl and an old man in livery wereplacing bags and bundles of rugs inside the carriage. Muller walkedslowly toward the carriage. Just as he reached the open gate of thegarden he was obliged to halt, to his own great satisfaction. For atthis moment a group of people came out from the house, the owners of itevidently, prepared for a journey and surrounded by their servants.

  Beside the old man and the young girl, there were two other women, oneevidently the housekeeper, the other possibly the cook. The latterwas weeping openly and devoutly kissing the hand of her mistress. Thehousekeeper discovered that a rug was missing and sent the maid back forit, while the old servant helped the lady into the carriage. The doorof the carriage was wide open and Muller had a good glimpse of the pale,sweet-faced and delicate-looking young woman who leaned back in hercorner, shivering and evidently ill. The servants bustled about, makingher comfortable, while her husband superintended the work with anxioustenderness. He was a tall, fine-looking man with deep-set grey eyes anda rich, sympathetic voice. He gave his orders to his servants with calmauthority, but he also was evidently suffering from the disease ofour century--nervousness, for Muller saw that the man's hands clenchedfeverishly and that his lips were trembling under his droopingmoustache.

  The maid hastened down with the rug and spread it over her mistress'sknees, as the gentleman exclaimed nervously: "Do hurry with that! Do youwant us to miss the train?"

  The butler closed the door of the carriage, the coachman gathered up thereins and raised his whip. The housekeeper bowed low and murmured a fewwords in farewell and the other servants followed her example with tearsin their eyes. "You'll see us again in six weeks," the lady calledout and her husband added: "If all goes well." Then he motioned to thewaiting driver and the carriage moved off swiftly, turning the corner ina few moments.

  The little group of servants returned to the courtyard behind the highgates. Muller, whom they had not noticed, was about to resume his walk,when he halted again. The courtyard of the house led back through aflagged walk to the park-like garden that surrounded it on the sides andrear. Down this walk came a young woman. She came so quickly that onemight almost call it running. She was evidently excited about something.Muller imagined what this something might be, and he remained tohear what she had to say. He was not mistaken. The woman, it was Mrs.Schmiedler, the gardener's wife, began her story at once. "Haven't youheard yet?" she said breathlessly. "No, you can't have heard it yet oryou wouldn't stand there so quietly, Mrs. Bernauer."

  "What's the matter?" asked the woman whom Muller took to be thehousekeeper.

  "They killed a man last night out here! They found his body just nowin the lane back of our garden. The janitor from No.1 told me as I wasgoing to the store, so I went right back to look at the place, and Icame to tell you, as I didn't think you'd heard it yet."

  Mrs. Bernauer was evidently a woman of strong constitution and of anequable mind. The other three servants broke out into an excited hubbubof talk while she remained quite indifferent and calm. "One more poorfellow who had to leave the world before he was ready," she remarkedcalmly, with just the natural touch of pity in her voice that would cometo any warm-hearted human being upon hearing of such an occurrence. Shedid not seem at all excited or alarmed to think that the scene of thecrime had been so near.

  The other servants were very much more excited and had already rushedoff, under the guidance of the gardener's wife, to look at the dreadfulspot. Franz, the butler, had quite forgotten to close the front gate inhis excitement, and the housekeeper turned to do it now.

  "The fools, see them run," she exclaimed half aloud. "As if there wasanything for them to do there."

  The gate closed, Mrs. Bernauer turned and walked slowly to the house.Muller walked on also, going first to the police station to report whathe had discovered. Then he went to his own rooms and slept until nearlynoon. On his return to the police station he found that notices of theoccurrence had already been sent out to the papers.