The Mystery of the Yellow Room

by Gaston Leroux

in this new witness. They were amused by his melodramatic action

  in thus fixing the hour; but they seemed to have confidence in the

  outcome. As for the President, it looked as if he also had made up

  his mind to take the young man in the same way. He had certainly

  been impressed by Rouletabille's explanation of Madame Mathieu's part.

  "Well, Monsieur Rouletabille," he said, "as you say; but don't let

  us see any more of you before half-past six."

  Rouletabille bowed to the President, and made his way to the door

  of the witnesses' room.

  I quietly made my way through the crowd and left the court almost

  at the same time as Rouletabille. He greeted me heartily, and

  looked happy.

  "I'll not ask you, my dear fellow," I said, smiling, "what you've

  been doing in America; because I've no doubt you'll say you can't

  tell me until after half-past six."

  "No, my dear Sainclair, I'll tell you right now why I went to

  America. I went in search of the name of the other half of the

  murderer!"

  "The name of the other half?"

  "Exactly. When we last left the Glandier I knew there were two

  halves to the murderer and the name of only one of them. I went

  to America for the name of the other half."

  I was too puzzled to answer. Just then we entered the witnesses'

  room, and Rouletabille was immediately surrounded. He showed

  himself very friendly to all except Arthur Rance to whom he

  exhibited a marked coldness of manner. Frederic Larsan came in

  also. Rouletabille went up and shook him heartily by the hand.

  His manner toward the detective showed that he had got the better

  of the policeman. Larsan smiled and asked him what he had been

  doing in America, Rouletabille began by telling him some anecdotes

  of his voyage. They then turned aside together apparently with

  the object of speaking confidentially. I, therefore, discreetly

  left them and, being curious to hear the evidence, returned to my

  seat in the court-room where the public plainly showed its lack

  of interest in what was going on in their impatience for

  Rouletabille's return at the appointed time.

  On the stroke of half-past six Joseph Rouletabille was again brought

  in. It is impossible for me to picture the tense excitement which

  appeared on every face, as he made his way to the bar. Darzac rose

  to his feet, frightfully pale.

  The President, addressing Rouletabille, said gravely:

  "I will not ask you to take the oath, because you have not been

  regularly summoned; but I trust there is no need to urge upon you

  the gravity of the statement you are about to make."

  Rouletabille looked the President quite calmly and steadily in the

  face, and replied:

  "Yes, Monsieur."

  "At your last appearance here," said the President, "we had arrived

  at the point where you were to tell us how the murderer escaped,

  and also his name. Now, Monsieur Rouletabille, we await your

  explanation."

  "Very well, Monsieur," began my friend amidst a profound silence.

  "I had explained how it was impossible for the murderer to get away

  without being seen. And yet he was there with us in the courtyard."

  "And you did not see him? At least that is what the prosecution

  declares."

  "No! We all of us saw him, Monsieur le President!" cried

  Rouletabille.

  "Then why was he not arrested?"

  "Because no one, besides myself, knew that he was the murderer. It

  would have spoiled my plans to have had him arrested, and I had then

  no proof other than my own reasoning. I was convinced we had the

  murderer before us and that we were actually looking at him. I

  have now brought what I consider the indisputable proof."

  "Speak out, Monsieur! Tell us the murderer's name."

  "You will find it on the list of names present in the court on the

  night of the tragedy," replied Rouletabille.

  The people present in the court-room began showing impatience.

  Some of them even called for the name, and were silenced by the

  usher.

  "The list includes Daddy Jacques, Bernier the concierge, and Mr.

  Arthur Rance," said the President. "Do you accuse any of these?"

  "No, Monsieur!"

  "Then I do not understand what you are driving at. There was no

  other person at the end of the court."

  "Yes, Monsieur, there was, not at the end, but above the court, who

  was leaning out of the window."

  "Do you mean Frederic Larsan!" exclaimed the President.

  "Yes! Frederic Larsan!" replied Rouletabille in a ringing tone.

  "Frederic Larsan is the murderer!"

  The court-room became immediately filled with loud and indignant

  protests. So astonished was he that the President did not attempt

  to quiet it. The quick silence which followed was broken by the

  distinctly whispered words from the lips of Robert Darzac:

  "It's impossible! He's mad!"

  "You dare to accuse Frederic Larsan, Monsieur?" asked the President.

  "If you are not mad, what are your proofs?"

  "Proofs, Monsieur?--Do you want proofs? Well, here is one," cried

  Rouletabille shrilly. "Let Frederic Larsan be called!"

  "Usher, call Frederic Larsan."

  The usher hurried to the side door, opened it, and disappeared. The

  door remained open, while all eyes turned expectantly towards it.

  The clerk re-appeared and, stepping forward, said:

  "Monsieur President, Frederic Larsan is not here. He left at about

  four o'clock and has not been seen since."

  "That is my proof!" cried Rouletabille, triumphantly.

  "Explain yourself?" demanded the President.

  "My proof is Larsan's flight," said the young reporter. "He will

  not come back. You will see no more of Frederic Larsan."

  "Unless you are playing with the court, Monsieur, why did you not

  accuse him when he was present? He would then have answered you."

  "He could give no other answer than the one he has now given by his

  flight."

  "We cannot believe that Larsan has fled. There was no reason for

  his doing so. Did he know you'd make this charge?"

  "He did. I told him I would."

  "Do you mean to say that knowing Larsan was the murderer you gave

  him the opportunity to escape?"

  "Yes, Monsieur President, I did," replied Rouletabille, proudly.

  "I am not a policeman, I am a journalist; and my business is not

  to arrest people. My business is in the service of truth, and is

  not that of an executioner. If you are just, Monsieur, you will

  see that I am right. You can now understand why I refrained until

  this hour to divulge the name. I gave Larsan time to catch the

  4:17 train for Paris, where he would know where to hide himself,

  and leave no traces. You will not find Frederic Larsan," declared

  Rouletabille, fixing his eyes on Monsieur Robert Darzac. "He is

  too cunning. He is a man who has always escaped you and whom you

  have long searched for in vain. If he did not succeed in

  outwitting me, he can yet easily outwit any police. This man who,

  four years ago, introduced himself to the Suret
e, and became

  celebrated as Frederic Larsan, is notorious under another name--a

  name well known to crime. Frederic Larsan, Monsieur President,

  is Ballmeyer!"

  "Ballmeyer!" cried the President.

  "Ballmeyer!" exclaimed Robert Darzac, springing to his feet.

  "Ballmeyer!--It was true, then!"

  "Ah! Monsieur Darzac; you don't think I am mad, now!" cried

  Rouletabille.

  Ballmeyer! Ballmeyer! No other word could be heard in the

  courtroom. The President adjourned the hearing.

  Those of my readers who may not have heard of Ballmeyer will wonder

  at the excitement the name caused. And yet the doings of this

  remarkable criminal form the subject-matter of the most dramatic

  narratives of the newspapers and criminal records of the past twenty

  years. It had been reported that he was dead, and thus had eluded

  the police as he had eluded them throughout the whole of his career.

  Ballmeyer was the best specimen of the high-class "gentleman

  swindler." He was adept at sleight of hand tricks, and no bolder

  or more ruthless crook ever lived. He was received in the best

  society, and was a member of some of the most exclusive clubs. On

  many of his depredatory expeditions he had not hesitated to use

  the knife and the mutton-bone. No difficulty stopped him and no

  "operation" was too dangerous. He had been caught, but escaped

  on the very morning of his trial, by throwing pepper into the

  eyes of the guards who were conducting him to Court. It was known

  later that, in spite of the keen hunt after him by the most expert

  of detectives, he had sat that same evening at a first performance

  in the Theatre Francais, without the slightest disguise.

  He left France, later, to "work" America. The police there

  succeeded in capturing him once, but the extraordinary man escaped

  the next day. It would need a volume to recount the adventures of

  this master-criminal. And yet this was the man Rouletabille had

  allowed to get away! Knowing all about him and who he was, he

  afforded the criminal an opportunity for another laugh at the

  society he had defied! I could not help admiring the bold stroke

  of the young journalist, because I felt certain his motive had been

  to protect both Mademoiselle Stangerson and rid Darzac of an enemy

  at the same time.

  The crowd had barely recovered from the effect of the astonishing

  revelation when the hearing was resumed. The question in everybody's

  mind was: Admitting that Larsan was the murderer, how did he get out

  of The Yellow Room?

  Rouletabille was immediately called to the bar and his examination

  continued.

  "You have told us," said the President, "that it was impossible to

  escape from the end of the court. Since Larsan was leaning out of

  his window, he had left the court. How did he do that?"

  "He escaped by a most unusual way. He climbed the wall, sprang

  onto the terrace, and, while we were engaged with the keeper's body,

  reached the gallery by the window. He then had little else to do

  than to open the window, get in and call out to us, as if he had

  just come from his own room. To a man of Ballmeyer's strength all

  that was mere child's play. And here, Monsieur, is the proof of

  what I say."

  Rouletabille drew from his pocket a small packet, from which he

  produced a strong iron peg.

  "This, Monsieur," he said, "is a spike which perfectly fits a hole

  still to be seen in the cornice supporting the terrace. Larsan,

  who thought and prepared for everything in case of any emergency,

  had fixed this spike into the cornice. All he had to do to make

  his escape good was to plant one foot on a stone which is placed

  at the corner of the chateau, another on this support, one hand

  on the cornice of the keeper's door and the other on the terrace,

  and Larsan was clear of the ground. The rest was easy. His acting

  after dinner as if he had been drugged was make believe. He was

  not drugged; but he did drug me. Of course he had to make it

  appear as if he also had been drugged so that no suspicion should

  fall on him for my condition. Had I not been thus overpowered,

  Larsan would never have entered Mademoiselle Stangerson's chamber

  that night, and the attack on her would not have taken place."

  A groan came from Darzac, who appeared to be unable to control

  his suffering.

  "You can understand," added Rouletabille, "that Larsan would feel

  himself hampered from the fact that my room was so close to his, and

  from a suspicion that I would be on the watch that night. Naturally,

  he could not for a moment believe that I suspected him! But I might

  see him leaving his room when he was about to go to Mademoiselle

  Stangerson. He waited till I was asleep, and my friend Sainclair

  was busy trying to rouse me. Ten minutes after that Mademoiselle

  was calling out, "Murder!"

  "How did you come to suspect Larsan?" asked the President.

  "My pure reason pointed to him. That was why I watched him. But

  I did not foresee the drugging. He is very cunning. Yes, my pure

  reason pointed to him; but I required tangible proof so that my

  eyes could see him as my pure reason saw him."

  "What do you mean by your pure reason?"

  "That power of one's mind which admits of no disturbing elements

  to a conclusion. The day following the incident of 'the

  inexplicable gallery,' I felt myself losing control of it. I had

  allowed myself to be diverted by fallacious evidence; but I

  recovered and again took hold of the right end. I satisfied myself

  that the murderer could not have left the gallery, either naturally

  or supernaturally. I narrowed the field of consideration to that

  small circle, so to speak. The murderer could not be outside that

  circle. Now who was in it? There was, first, the murderer. Then

  there were Daddy Jacques, Monsieur Stangerson, Frederic Larsan, and

  myself. Five persons in all, counting in the murderer. And yet,

  in the gallery, there were but four. Now since it had been

  demonstrated to me that the fifth could not have escaped, it was

  evident that one of the four present in the gallery must be a double

  --he must be himself and the murderer also. Why had I not seen

  this before? Simply because the phenomenon of the double personality

  had not occurred before in this inquiry.

  "Now who of the four persons in the gallery was both that person

  and the assassin? I went over in my mind what I had seen. I had

  seen at one and the same time, Monsieur Stangerson and the murderer,

  Daddy Jacques and the murderer, myself and the murderer; so that

  the murderer, then, could not be either Monsieur Stangerson, Daddy

  Jacques, or myself. Had I seen Frederic Larsan and the murderer

  at the same time?--No!--Two seconds had passed, during which I

  lost sight of the murderer; for, as I have noted in my papers, he

  arrived two seconds before Monsieur Stangerson, Daddy Jacques, and

  myself at the meeting-point of the two galleries. That would have

  given Larsan tim
e to go through the 'off-turning' gallery, snatch

  off his false beard, return, and hurry with us as if, like us, in

  pursuit of the murderer. I was sure now I had got hold of the

  right end in my reasoning. With Frederic Larsan was now always

  associated, in my mind, the personality of the unknown of whom I

  was in pursuit--the murderer, in other words.

  "That revelation staggered me. I tried to regain my balance by

  going over the evidences previously traced, but which had diverted

  my mind and led me away from Frederic Larsan. What were these

  evidences?

  "1st. I had seen the unknown in Mademoiselle Stangerson's chamber.

  On going to Frederic Larsan's room, I had found Larsan sound asleep.

  "2nd. The ladder.

  "3rd. I had placed Frederic Larsan at the end of the 'off-turning'

  gallery and had told him that I would rush into Mademoiselle

  Stangerson's room to try to capture the murderer. Then I returned

  to Mademoiselle Stangerson's chamber where I had seen the unknown.

  "The first evidence did not disturb me much. It is likely that,

  when I descended from my ladder, after having seen the unknown in

  Mademoiselle Stangerson's chamber, Larsan had already finished what

  he was doing there. Then, while I was re-entering the chateau,

  Larsan went back to his own room and, undressing himself, went to

  sleep.

  "Nor did the second evidence trouble me. If Larsan were the

  murderer, he could have no use for a ladder; but the ladder might

  have been placed there to give an appearance to the murderer's

  entrance from without the chateau; especially as Larsan had accused

  Darzac and Darzac was not in the chateau that night. Further, the

  ladder might have been placed there to facilitate Larsan's flight

  in case of absolute necessity.

  "But the third evidence puzzled me altogether. Having placed Larsan

  at the end of the 'off-turning gallery,' I could not explain how he

  had taken advantage of the moment when I had gone to the left wing

  of the chateau to find Monsieur Stangerson and Daddy Jacques, to

  return to Mademoiselle Stangerson's room. It was a very dangerous

  thing to do. He risked being captured,--and he knew it. And he

  was very nearly captured. He had not had time to regain his post,

  as he had certainly hoped to do. He had then a very strong reason

  for returning to his room. As for myself, when I sent Daddy Jacques

  to the end of the 'right gallery,' I naturally thought that Larsan

  was still at his post. Daddy Jacques, in going to his post, had not

  looked, when he passed, to see whether Larsan was at his post or not.

  "What, then, was the urgent reason which had compelled Larsan to

  go to the room a second time? I guessed it to be some evidence of

  his presence there. He had left something very important in that

  room. What was it? And had he recovered it? I begged Madame

  Bernier who was accustomed to clean the room to look, and she found

  a pair of eye-glasses--this pair, Monsieur President!"

  And Rouletabille drew the eye-glasses, of which we know, from his

  pocket.

  "When I saw these eye-glasses," he continued, "I was utterly

  nonplussed. I had never seen Larsan wear eye-glasses. What did

  they mean? Suddenly I exclaimed to myself: 'I wonder if he is

  long-sighted?' I had never seen Larsan write. He might, then, be

  long-sighted. They would certainly know at the Surete, and also

  know if the glasses were his. Such evidence would be damning.

  That explained Larsan's return. I know now that Larsan, or

  Ballmeyer, is long-sighted and that these glasses belonged to him.

  "I now made one mistake. I was not satisfied with the evidence I

  had obtained. I wished to see the man's face. Had I refrained

  from this, the second terrible attack would not have occurred."

  "But," asked the President, "why should Larsan go to Mademoiselle