Vance folded the paper carefully and placed it in his wallet.
"The time has come," he said slowly, "to tell you everything. It may be, when you have the facts in hand, you can figure out some course of procedure. I can see legal difficulties ahead; but I now have all the evidence we can ever hope for." He was uneasy and troubled. "Scarlett's intrusion in to-night's happenings changed the murderer's plans. Anyway, I can now convince you of the incredible and abominable truth."
Markham studied him for several moments, and a startled light came in his eyes.
"God Almighty!" he breathed. "I see what you mean." He clicked his teeth together. "But first I must phone the hospital. There's a chance that Scarlett can help us--if he lives."
He went to the rear of the museum and mounted the spiral stairs to the study. A few minutes later he reappeared, his face dark and hopeless.
"I spoke to the doctor," he said. "There's not one chance in a thousand for Scarlett. Concussion of the brain--and suffocation. They've got the pulmotor on him now. Even if he does pull through he'll be unconscious for a week or two."
"I was afraid of that." I had rarely seen Vance so distressed. "We were too late. But--dash it all!--I couldn't have foreseen his quixotism. And I warned him. . . ."
"Come, old man." Markham spoke with paternal kindliness. "It's not your fault. There was nothing you could have done. And you were right in keeping the truth to yourself--"
"Excuse me!" Heath was exasperated. "I myself ain't exactly an enemy of truth. Why can't I get in on this?"
"You can, Sergeant." Vance placed his hand on the other's shoulder. "Let's go to the drawing-room. 'And every mountain and hill shall be made low; and the crooked shall be made straight, and the rough places plain.'"
He moved toward the stairs; and we followed him.
21
THE MURDERER
(Saturday, July 14, 10:40 P.M.)
As we entered the drawing-room Brush rose. He was pale and palpably frightened.
"Why are you worried?" Vance asked.
"Suppose, sir, I should be blamed!" the man blurted. "It was I who left the front door open yesterday morning--I wanted to get some fresh air. And then you came and said something had happened to Mr. Kyle. I know I shouldn't have unlatched the door." (I realized then why he had acted in so terrified a manner.)
"You may cheer up," Vance told him. "We know who killed Mr. Kyle, and I can assure you, Brush, that the murderer didn't come in the front door."
"Thank you, sir." The words were like a sigh of relief.
"And now tell Hani to come here. Then you may go to your room."
Brush had scarcely left us when there was the sound of a key being inserted in the front door. A moment later Doctor Bliss appeared at the entrance to the drawing-room.
"Good-evening, doctor," Vance greeted him. "I hope we're not intrudin'. But there are several questions we wish to ask Hani during Mr. Salveter's absence."
"I understand," Bliss returned, with a sad nod. "You know, then, of Salveter's excursion to Boston."
"He phoned me and asked if he might go."
Bliss looked at Vance with heavy, inquisitive eyes.
"His wanting to go north at this time was most unusual," he said; "but I did not raise any objection. The atmosphere here is very depressing, and I sympathized with his desire to escape from it."
"What time did he leave the house?" Vance put the question carelessly.
"About nine. I offered to drive him to the station. . . ."
"At nine, what? And where was he between eight and nine?"
Bliss looked unhappy.
"He was with me in the study. We were going over details regarding the reproductions of Hotepheres' tomb furniture."
"Was he with you when Mr. Scarlett arrived?"
"Yes." Bliss frowned. "Very peculiar, Scarlett's visit. He evidently wanted to talk to Salveter alone. He acted most mysteriously--treated Salveter with a sort of resentful coldness. But I continued to discuss the object of Salveter's trip north--"
"Mr. Scarlett waited?"
"Yes. He watched Salveter like a hawk. Then, when Salveter went out, Scarlett went with him."
"Ah! And you, doctor?" Vance was apparently absorbed in selecting a cigarette from his case.
"I stayed in the study."
"And that's the last you saw of either Scarlett or Salveter?"
"Yes I went for a walk about half past nine. I looked in the museum on my way out, thinking possibly Scarlett had remained and would join me; but the room was dark. So I strolled down the avenue to Washington Square. . . ."
"Thank you, doctor." Vance had lighted his cigarette and was smoking moodily. "We sha'n't trouble you any more to-night."
Hani entered the room.
"You wish to see me?" His manner was detached and, I thought, a trifle bored.
"Yes." Vance indicated a chair facing the table. Then he turned quickly to Bliss who was on the point of going out.
"On second thought, doctor, it may be advisable for us to question you again regarding Mr. Salveter.--Would you mind waiting in the study?"
"Not at all." Bliss shot him a comprehending glance, and went down the hall. A few moments later we heard the study door close.
Vance gave Hani a curious look, which I did not understand.
"I have something I wish to tell Mr. Markham," he said. "Will you be good enough to stand in the hall and see that no one disturbs us?"
Hani rose.
"With pleasure, effendi." And he took his post outside.
Vance closed the folding doors, and coming back to the centre-table, settled himself comfortably.
"You, Markham--and you, Sergeant--were both right yesterday morning when you concluded that Doctor Bliss was guilty of murdering Kyle--"
"Say, listen!" Heath leapt to his feet. "What the hell--!"
"Oh, quite, Sergeant. Please sit down and control yourself."
"I said he killed him! And you said--"
"My word! Can't you be tranquil? You're so upsettin', Sergeant." Vance made an exasperated gesture. "I'm aware you remarked inelegantly that Bliss had 'croaked' Mr. Kyle. And I trust you have not forgotten that I said to you last night that we often arrive at the same destination at the same time--but from opposite directions."
"That was what you meant, was it?" Heath resumed his seat surlily. "Then why didn't you let me arrest him?"
"Because that's what he wanted you to do."
"I'm floundering," Heath wailed. "The world has gone nuts."
"Just a moment, Sergeant." Markham spoke peremptorily. "I'm beginning to understand this affair. It's not insane in the least.--Let Mr. Vance continue."
Heath started to expostulate, but instead made a grimace of resignation, and began chewing on his cigar.
Vance regarded him sympathetically.
"I knew, Sergeant--or at least I strongly suspected--within five minutes after entering the museum yesterday morning, that Bliss was guilty. Scarlett's story about the appointment gave me the first clew. Bliss's telephone call in the presence of every one and his remarks about the new shipment struck me as fitting in perfectly with a preconceived plan. Then, when I saw the various clews, I felt positive they had been planted by Bliss himself. With him it was not only a matter of pointing suspicion to himself, but--on second view--of throwing suspicion on another. Fortunately he overstepped the grounds of plausibility; for had some one else committed the crime, the planted clews would have been less numerous and less obvious. Consequently, I leapt to the conclusion that Bliss had murdered Kyle and had, at the same time, striven to lead us to think that he was the victim of a plot--"
"But, Mr. Vance," interrupted Heath, "you said--"
"I did not say one word to give you the definite impression that I exonerated Bliss. Not once did I say he was innocent. . . . Think back. You'll remember I said only that the clews did not ring true--that things were not what they seemed. I knew the clews were traps, set by Bliss to deceive us. And I also knew
---as Mr. Markham knew--that if we arrested Bliss on the outward evidence, it would be impossible to convict him."
Markham nodded thoughtfully.
"Yes, Sergeant. Mr. Vance is quite correct. I can't recall a single remark of his inconsistent with his belief in Bliss's guilt."
"Although I knew Bliss was guilty," Vance continued, "I didn't know what his ultimate object was or whom he was trying to involve. I suspected it was Salveter--though it might have been either Scarlett or Hani or Mrs. Bliss. I at once saw the necessity of determining the real victim of his plot. So I pretended to fall in with the obvious situation. I couldn't let Bliss think that I suspected him,--my only hope lay in pretending that I believed some one else was guilty. But I did avoid the traps set for us. I wanted Bliss to plant other clews against his victim and perhaps give us some workable evidence. That was why I begged you to play a waiting game with me."
"But what was Bliss's idea in having himself arrested?" Markham asked. "There was danger in that."
"Very little. He probably believed that even before an indictment he or his lawyer could persuade you of his innocence and of Salveter's guilt. Or, if he had been held for trial, he was almost sure of an acquittal, and would then be entirely safe on the caressin' principle of double jeopardy, or autrefois acquit. . . . No, he was running no great risk. And remember, too, he was playing a big game. Once he had been arrested, he would have felt justified in pointing openly to Salveter as the murderer and plotter. Hence I fought against your arresting him, for it was the very thing he wanted. As long as he thought he was free from suspicion, there was no point in his defending himself at Salveter's expense. And, in order to involve Salveter, he was forced to plant more evidence, to concoct other schemes. And it was on these schemes that I counted for evidence."
"I'm sunk!" The ashes of Heath's cigar toppled off and fell over his waistcoat, but he didn't notice them.
"But, Sergeant, I gave you many warnings. And there was the motive. I'm convinced that Bliss knew there was no more financial help coming from Kyle; and there's nothing he wouldn't have done to insure a continuation of his researches. Furthermore, he was intensely jealous of Salveter: he knew Mrs. Bliss loved the young cub."
"But why," put in Markham, "did he not merely kill Salveter?"
"Oh, I say! The money was a cardinal factor,--he wanted Meryt-Amen to inherit Kyle's wealth. His second'ry object was to eliminate Salveter from Meryt-Amen's heart: he had no reason for killing him. Therefore he planned subtly to disqualify him by making it appear that Salveter not only had murdered his uncle but had tried to send another to the chair for it."
Vance slowly lighted a fresh cigarette.
"Bliss was killing three birds with one stone. He was making himself a martyr in Meryt-Amen's eyes; he was eliminating Salveter; he was insuring his wife a fortune with which he could continue his excavations. Few murders have had so powerful a triple motive. . . . And one of the tragic things is that Mrs. Bliss more than half believed in Salveter's guilt. She suffered abominably. You recall how she took the attitude that she wanted the murderer brought to justice. And she feared all the time that it was Salveter. . . ."
"Still and all," said Heath, "Bliss didn't seem very anxious to get Salveter mixed up in the affair."
"Ah, but he was, Sergeant. He was constantly involving Salveter while pretending not to. A feigned reluctance, as it were. He couldn't be too obvious about it--that would have given his game away. . . . You remember my question of who had charge of the medical supplies. Bliss stuttered, as if trying to shield some one. Very clever, don't y' know."
"But if you knew this--" Heath began.
"I didn't know all of it, Sergeant. I knew only that Bliss was guilty. I was not sure that Salveter was the object of his plot. Therefore I had to investigate and learn the truth."
"Anyhow, I was right in the first place when I said Bliss was guilty," Heath declared doggedly.
"Of course you were, Sergeant." Vance spoke almost affectionately. "And I felt deuced bad to have to appear to contradict you." He rose and, going to Heath, held out his hand. "Will you forgive me?"
"Well . . . maybe." Heath's eyes belied his gruff tone as he grasped Vance's hand. "Anyhow, I was right!"
Vance grinned and sat down.
"The plot itself was simple," he continued after a moment. "Bliss phoned Kyle in the presence of every one and made the appointment for eleven. He specifically mentioned the new shipment, and suggested that Kyle should come early. You see, he had decided on the murder--and on the whole plot in fact--when he made the fatal rendezvous. And he deliberately left the scarab pin on the study desk. After killing Kyle he placed the pin and the financial report near the body. And note, Markham, that Salveter had access to both objects. Moreover, Bliss knew that Salveter was in the habit of going to the museum after breakfast; and he timed Kyle's appointment so that Salveter and his uncle would probably meet. He sent Salveter to the Metropolitan to get him out of the house while he himself killed Kyle. And he also fixed the statue of Sakhmet so that it would look like a trap. The murderer could easily have come back at any time before we arrived and planted the pin and the report and made the foot-prints--provided of course Bliss had been asleep with the opium. . . ."
Heath sat upright and squinted at Vance.
"That trap was only a stall?" he asked indignantly.
"Nothing else, Sergeant. It was set up after the murder, so that even if Salveter had had an alibi, he still could have been guilty. Furthermore, the possibility of Kyle's having been killed by an absent person was another point in favor of Bliss. Why should Bliss have made a death-trap when he had every opportunity to kill Kyle by direct contact? The trap was merely another counter-clew."
"But the pencil used in the trap," interposed Markham. "It was not the kind Salveter used."
"My dear Markham! Bliss used one of his own pencils for the 'upright' in order to create another clew against himself. A man actually planning a death-trap is not going to use his own pencil,--he would use the pencil of the man he was trying to involve. The doctor therefore used his own pencil--in order to throw suspicion elsewhere. But the trap did not fool me. It was too fortuitous. A murderer would not have taken such a chance. The falling statue might not have fallen exactly on Kyle's head. And another thing: a man struck in that fashion is not likely to fall in the position we found Kyle, with his head just beneath the place where the statue struck him, and with his arms stretched out. When I made my experiment, and the statue fell exactly where Kyle's head had been, I realized how unlikely it was that he had actually been killed by the statue falling." Vance's eyes twinkled. "I did not raise the point at the time, for I wanted you to believe in the death-trap."
"Right again!" Heath slapped his forehead dramatically with his palm. "And I never thought of it! . . . Sure, I'll forgive you, Mr. Vance!"
"The truth is, Sergeant, I did everything I could to make you overlook the inconsistency of it. And Mr. Markham didn't see it either.* As a matter of fact, Kyle was killed while he was looking into the cabinet, by a blow from someone behind him. I have an idea, too, that one of those heavy flint or porphyry maces was used. His body was arranged in the position we found it, and the statue of Sakhmet was then dropped on his skull, obliterating the evidence of the first blow."
* Nor did I. But while this record of mine was running serially in the American Magazine several readers wrote to me pointing out the inconsistency.
"But suppose," objected Markham, "you hadn't seen the loose ring on the curtain?"
"The trap was arranged so that we would discover it. If we had overlooked it, Bliss would have called our attention to it."
"But the finger-prints--" began Heath, in a kind of daze.
"They were purposely left on the statue. More evidence, d' ye see, against Bliss. But he had an alibi in reserve. His first explanation was so simple and so specious:--he had moved Sakhmet because it wasn't quite straight. But the second explanation why there were no other finger-prin
ts on Sakhmet was to come later, after his arrest--to wit, no one had actually wielded the statue: it was a death-trap set by Salveter!"
Vance made an open-handed gesture.
"Bliss covered every clew against himself with a stronger clew pointing to Salveter. . . . Regard, for instance, the evidence of the footprints. Superficially these pointed to Bliss. But there was the omnipresent counter-clew--namely: he was wearing bedroom slippers yesterday morning, and only one tennis shoe was to be found in the study. The other tennis shoe was in his room, exactly where he said he had left it the night before. Bliss simply brought one shoe downstairs, made the footprints in the blood, and placed the shoe in the waste-basket. He wanted us to find the prints and to discover the shoe. And we did--that is, the Sergeant did. His answer to the footprints, after his arrest, would merely have been that some one who had access to his room had taken one tennis shoe down-stairs and made the tracks to involve him."
Markham nodded.
"Yes," he said; "I'd have been inclined to exonerate him, especially after the discovery of opium in his coffee cup."
"Ah, that opium! The perfect alibi! What jury would have convicted him after the evidence of the opium in his coffee? They would have regarded him as the victim of a plot. And the District Attorney's office would have come in for much severe criticism. . . . And how simple the opium episode was! Bliss took the can from the cabinet, extracted what he needed for the ruse, and placed the powder in the bottom of his coffee cup."
"You didn't think he had been narcotized?"
"No. I knew he hadn't. A narcotic contracts the pupils; and Bliss's were distended with excitement. I knew he was pretending, and that made me suspect I'd find a drug in his coffee."
"But what about the can?" Heath put the question. "I never did get that can business straight. You sent Hani--"
"Now, Sergeant!" Vance spoke good-naturedly. "I knew where the can was, and I merely wanted to ascertain how much Hani knew."
Philo Vance 12 Novels Complete Bundle Page 132
