The Case of the Registered Letter
Page 3
judgment as to the next steps, and as to how far he may go inopposition to what has been done by the police there."
"And then I may go back home?" asked Miss Graumann. "Go home with theassurance that you will help my poor boy?"
"Yes, you may depend on us, Madam. Is there anything we can do for youhere? Are you alone in the city?"
"No, thank you. There is a friend here who will take care of me. Shewill put me on the afternoon express back to G------."
"It is very likely that I will take that train myself," said Muller. "Ifthere is anything that you need on the journey, call on me."
"Oh, thank you, I will indeed! Thank you both, gentlemen. And nowgood-bye, and God bless you!"
The commissioner bowed and Muller held the door open for Miss Graumannto pass out. There was silence in the room, as the two men looked afterthe quaint little figure slowly descending the stairs.
"A brave little woman," murmured the commissioner.
"It is not only the mother in the flesh who knows what a mother's loveis," added Muller.
Next morning Joseph Muller stood in the cell of the prison in G--------confronting Albert Graumann, accused of the murder of John Siders.
The detective had just come from a rather difficult interview withCommissioner Lange. But the latter, though not a brilliant man, was atleast good-natured. He acknowledged the right of the accused and hisfamily to ask for outside assistance, and agreed with Muller that it wasbetter to have some one in the official service brought in, rather thana private detective whose work, in its eventual results, might bringshame on the police. Muller explained that Miss Graumann did not wanther nephew to know that it was she who had asked for aid in his behalf,and that it could only redound to his, Lange's, credit if it wereunderstood that he had sent to Vienna for expert assistance in thiscase. It would be a proof of his conscientious attention to duty,and would insure praise for him, whichever way the case turned out.Commissioner Lange saw the force of this argument, and finally gaveMuller permission to handle the case as he thought best, rather relievedthan otherwise for his own part. The detective's next errand was to theprison, where he now stood looking up into the deep-set, dark eyes of atall, broad-shouldered, black-bearded man, who had arisen from the cotat his entrance. Albert Graumann had a strong, self-reliant face andbearing. His natural expression was somewhat hard and stern, but itwas the expression of a man of integrity and responsibility. Muller hadalready made some inquiries as to the prisoner's reputation and businessstanding in the community, and all that he had heard was favourable.A certain hardness and lack of amiability in Graumann's nature made itdifficult for him to win the hearts of others, but although he was notgenerally loved, he was universally respected. Through the signs ofnagging fear, sorrow, and ill-health, printed clearly on the face beforehim, Muller's keen eyes looked down into the soul of a man who mightbe overbearing, pitiless even, if occasion demanded, but who would notmurder--at least not for the sake of gain. This last possibility Mullerhad dismissed from his mind, even before he saw the prisoner. The man'sreputation was sufficient to make the thought ridiculous. But he hadnot made up his mind whether it might not be a case of a murder aftera quarrel. Now he began to doubt even this when he looked into theintelligent, harsh-featured face of the man in the cell. But Muller hadthe gift of putting aside his own convictions, when he wanted his mindclear to consider evidence before him.
Graumann had risen from his sitting position when he saw a stranger.His heavy brows drew down over his eyes, but he waited for the other tospeak.
"I am Detective Joseph Muller, from Vienna," began the newcomer, when hehad seen that the prisoner did not intend to start the conversation.
"Have you come to question me again?" asked Graumann wearily. "I cansay no more than I have already said to the Police Commissioner. And noamount of cross-examination can make me confess a crime of which Iam not guilty--no matter what evidence there may be against me."The prisoner's voice was hard and determined in spite of its note ofphysical and mental weariness.
"I have not come to extort a confession from you, Mr. Graumann," Mullerreplied gently, "but to help you establish your innocence, if it bepossible."
A wave of colour flooded the prisoner's cheek. He gasped, pressed hishand to his heart, and dropped down on his cot. "Pardon me," he saidfinally, hesitating like a man who is fighting for breath. "My heart isweak; any excitement upsets me. You mean that the authorities are notconvinced of my guilt, in spite of the evidence? You mean that they willgive me the benefit of the doubt--that they will give me a chance forlife?"
"Yes, that is the reason for my coming here. I am to take this case inhand. If you will talk freely to me, Mr. Graumann, I may be able to helpyou. I have seen too many mistakes of justice because of circumstantialevidence to lay any too great stress upon it. I have waited to hear yourside of the story from yourself. I did not want to hear it from others.Will you tell it to me now? No, do not move, I will get the stoolmyself."
Graumaun sat back on the cot, his head resting against the wall. Hiseyes had closed while Muller was speaking, but his quieter breathingshowed that he was mastering the physical attack which had so shakenhim at the first glimpse of hope. He opened his eyes now and looked atMuller steadily for a moment. Then he said: "Yes, I will tell you: mylife and my work have taught me to gauge men. I will tell you everythingI know about this sad affair. I will tell you the absolute truth, and Ithink you will believe me."
"I will believe you," said Muller simply.
"You know the details of the murder, of course, and why I was arrested?"
"You were arrested because you were the last person seen in the companyof the murdered man?"
"Exactly. Then I may go back and tell you something of my connectionwith John Siders?"
"It would be the very best thing to do."
"I live in Grunau, as you doubtless know, and am the engineering expertof large machine works there. My father before me held an importantposition in the factory, and my family have always lived in Grunau.I have traveled a great deal myself. I am forty-five years old, achildless widower, and live with my old aunt, Miss Babette Graumann,and my ward, Miss Eleonora Roemer, a young lady of twenty-two." Mullerlooked up with a slight start of surprise, but did not say anything.Graumann continued:
"A little over a year ago, John Siders, who signed himself as comingfrom Chicago, bought a piece of property in our town and came to livethere. I made his acquaintance in the cafe and he seemed to take a fancyto me. I also had spent several years in Chicago, and we naturallycame to speak of the place. We discovered that we had several mutualacquaintances there, and enjoyed talking over the old times. Otherwise Idid not take particularly to the man, and as I came to know him better Inoticed that he never mentioned that part of his life which lay back ofthe years in Chicago. I asked a casual question once or twice as tohis home and family, but he evaded me every time, and would not give adirect answer. He was evidently a German by birth and education, aman with university training, and one who knew life thoroughly. He haddelightful manners, and when he could forget his shyness for a while, hecould be very agreeable. The ladies of my family came to like him, andencouraged him to call frequently. Then the thing happened that I shouldnot have believed possible. My ward, Miss Roemer, a quiet, reservedgirl, fell in love with this man about whom none of us knew anything, aman with a past of which he did not care to speak.
"I was not in any way satisfied with the match, and they seemedto realise it. For Siders managed to persuade the girl to a secretengagement. I discovered it a month or two ago, and it made me veryangry. I did not let them see how badly I felt, but I warned Lora not tohave too much to do with the boy, and I set about finding out somethingregarding his earlier life. It was my duty to do this, as I was thegirl's guardian. She has no other relative living, and no one to turn toexcept my aunt and myself. I wrote to Mr. Richard Tressider in Chicago,the owner of the factory in which I had been employed while there. Johnhad told me that Tressider had been his client duri
ng the four years inwhich he practiced law in Chicago. I received an answer about the middleof August. Mr. Tressider had been able to find out only that John wasborn in the town of Hartberg in a certain year. This was enough. I tookleave of absence for a few days and went to Hartberg, which, as youknow, is about 140 miles from here. Three days later I knew all that Iwanted to know. John Siders was not the man's real name, or, rather, itwas only part of his name. His full name was Theodor John Bellmann, andhis mother was an Englishwoman whose maiden name was Siders. His fatherwas a county official who died at an early age, leaving his widow andthe boy in deepest poverty. Mrs. Bellmann moved to G--------to give musiclessons. Theodor went to school there, then finally to college, and wasan excellent pupil everywhere. But one day it