The Darrow Enigma by Melvin L. Severy (best fiction novels of all time TXT) 📖

have testified to being responsible for the death of John

Darrow. The instrument with which he was killed was directly or

indirectly your handiwork, yet you did not strike the blow, and you

have said you had no other person for an accomplice. Am I

substantially correct in all this?

 

A. You are quite correct.

 

Q. Very good. Did John Darrow’s death result from a poisoned wound

made by the instrument you have described?

 

A. It did.

 

This reply seemed to nonplus us all with the exception of Maitland

and Godin. These two seemed proof against all surprises. The rest

of us looked helplessly each at his neighbour as if to say, “What

next?” and we all felt, - at least I did and the others certainly

looked it, - as if the solution of the enigma were farther away

than ever.

 

Maitland proceeded in the same methodical strain.

 

Q. A blow was given, yet neither you nor any person acting as your

accomplice gave it. Did Mr. Darrow himself give the blow?

 

A. No, sir.

 

Q. I thought not. Did any person give it?

 

A. No, sir.

 

The audience drew a deep inspiration, as if with one accord! They

had ceased to reason. Again and again had we been brought, as we

all felt sure, within a single syllable of the truth, only to find

ourselves at the next word more mystified than ever. It would

hardly have surprised us more if the prisoner had informed us that

Mr. Darrow still lived. The excitement was so intense that thought

was impossible, so we could only listen with bated breath for someone

else to solve the thing for our beleaguered and discouraged minds.

After a word with his colleague, Maitland resumed.

 

Q. A blow was given, yet no person gave it. Was it given by anything

which is alive?

 

A. It was not.

 

You could have heard a pin drop, so silent was the room during the

pause which preceded Maitland’s next question.

 

Q. Did you arrange some inanimate object or objects outside the

eastern window, or elsewhere, on the Darrow estate so that it or

they might wound Mr. Darrow?

 

A. No, - no inanimate object other than the hypodermic syringe

already referred to.

 

Q. To my question: “A blow was given, yet no person gave it. Was

it given by anything which is alive?” you have answered: “It was

not.” Let me now ask: Was it given by anything which was at that

time alive?

 

A. It was.

 

There was a stir all over the courtroom. Here at last was a

suggestive admission. The examination was approaching a crisis!

 

Q. And you have said it was not a person. Was it not an animal?

 

A. It was.

 

“An animal!” we all ejaculated with the unanimity of a Greek chorus.

So audible were the exclamations of incredulity which arose from the

spellbound audience that the crier’s gavel had to be brought into

requisition before Maitland could proceed.

 

Q. Did you train a little Capucin monkey to strike this blow?

 

A. I did.

 

A great sigh, the result of suddenly relieved tension, liberally

interlarded with unconscious exclamations, swept over the courtroom

and would not be gavelled into silence until it had duly spent itself.

 

Even the Judge so far forgot his dignity as to give vent to a

half-stifled exclamation.

 

Maitland proceeded:

 

Q. In order that this monkey might not attack the wrong man after you

had armed him, you taught him to obey certain signals given by little

twitches upon the cord by which you held him. A certain signal was

to creep stealthily forward, another to strike, and still another to

crawl quickly back with the weapon. When circumstances seemed most

favourable to the success of your designs, - that is, when Miss

Darrow’s voice and the piano prevented any slight sound from

attracting attention, - you gently dropped the monkey in at the

window and signalled him what to do. When Mr. Darrow sprang to his

feet you recalled the monkey and hastened away. Is not this a fairly

correct description of what occurred?

 

A. It is true to the letter.

 

Q. And subsequently you killed the monkey lest he should betray you

by exhibiting his little tricks, at an inopportune moment in a way

to compromise you. Is it not so?

 

A. It is. I killed him, though he was my daughter’s pet.

 

We were stricken aghast at Maitland’s sudden grasp of the case.

Even Godin was surprised. What could it all mean? Had Maitland

known the facts all along? Had he simply been playing with the

witness for reasons which we could not divine? M. Godin’s face

was a study. He ceased boring holes in Latour with his eyes and

turned those wonderful orbs full upon Maitland, in whom they

seemed to sink to the depths of his very soul. Clearly M. Godin

was surprised at this exhibition of Maitland’s power.

 

Browne, who throughout the trial had glared at Maitland with an

unfriendliness which must have been apparent to everyone, now

lowered blacker than ever, it seemed to me. I wondered what could

have occurred to still further displease him, and finally concluded

it must either be some transient thought which had come uncalled

into his mind, or else a feeling of envy at his rival’s prominence

in the case, and the deservedly good reputation he was making. His

general ill-feeling I, of course, charged to jealousy, for I could

not but note his uncontrollable admiration for Gwen. I fully

believed he would have given his own life - or anyone else’s for

that matter - to possess her, and I decided to speak a word of

warning to George. After a short, whispered consultation with

Jenkins and the prosecuting attorney, Maitland turned to the prisoner

and said:

 

“That will do. M. Latour may leave the stand.”

 

It seemed to the spectators that the affair was now entirely cleared

up, and they accordingly settled themselves comfortably for the

formal denouement. They were, therefore, much taken aback when

Maitland continued, addressing the jury:

 

“The evidence against the prisoner would indeed seem overwhelming,

even had we not his confession. Apart from this confession we have

no incriminating evidence save such as has been furnished by the

government’s chief witness, M. Godin. As it is through this

gentleman’s efforts that Latour was brought within reach of justice,

it is but natural that much should be clear to him which may be

puzzling to those who have not made so close a study of the case.

I think he will enlighten us upon a few points. M. Godin will

please take the stand.”

 

At this there was much whispering in the courtroom.. Maitland’s

course seemed decidedly anomalous. Everyone wondered why he should

be at such pains to prove that which had been already admitted and

which, moreover, since he was representing Latour, it would seem he

would most naturally wish to disprove. M. Godin, however, took the

stand and Maitland proceeded to examine him in a way which only

added amazement to wonder.

 

Q. How long have you been at work on this case?

 

A. Ever since the murder.

 

Q. When did you first visit M. Latour’s rooms?

 

A. Do you mean to enter them?

 

Q. Yes.

 

A. I did not enter his rooms until the day he was arrested. I went

to other rooms of the same tenement-house on previous occasions.

 

Q. Have you reason to believe M. Latour ever saw you prior to the

day of his arrest?

 

A. No. I am sure he did not. I was especially careful to keep out

of his way.

 

Q. You are certain that on the several occasions when you say you

entered his rooms you were not observed by him while there?

 

A. I did not say I entered his rooms on several occasions.

 

Q. What did you say?

 

A. I said I never was in his rooms but once, and that was upon the

day of his arrest.

 

Q. I understand. Were you not assisted in your search for Mr.

Darrow’s murderer by certain library books which you discovered M.

Latour had been reading?

 

A. I - I don’t quite understand.

 

Q. M. Latour obtained some books from the Public Library for hall

use, giving his name as - as -=20

 

A. Weltz. Yes, they did assist me. There were some also taken under

the name of Rizzi.

 

Q. Exactly. Those are the names, I think. How was your attention

called to these books?

 

A. I met Latour at the library by accident, and he at once struck me

as a man anxious to avoid observation. This made it my business to

watch him. I saw that he signed his name as “Weltz” on the slips.

The next day I saw him there again, and this time he signed the

slips “Rizzi.” This was long before the murder, and I was not at

work upon any case into which I could fit this “Weltz” or “Rizzi.”

I was convinced in my own mind, however, that he was guilty of some

crime, and so put him down in my memory for future reference. During

my work upon this present case this incident recurred to me, and I

followed up the suggestion as one which might possibly throw some

light upon the subject.

 

Q. Did you peruse the books M. Latour borrowed under the names of

Weltz and Rizzi?

 

A. I did not.

 

Q. Did you not look at any of them?

 

A. No. It did not occur to me to examine their names.

 

Q. You probably noticed that there were several of them. Among the

pile was one by Alexander Wynter Blyth entitled, “Poisons, Their

Effects and Detection.” Did you notice that?

 

A. No. I did not notice any of them.

 

Q. But after you became suspicious of M. Latour, did you not then

look up the slips, find this work, and read it?

 

A. No. I have never seen the book in my life and did not even know

such a work existed.

 

Q. Oh! Then the perusal of the books had no part in the tracking of

M. Latour.

 

A. None whatever.

 

Q. Do you ever play cards?

 

A. Yes, sometimes, to pass the time.

 

Q. Do you play for money?

 

A. Sometimes for a small stake - just enough to make it interesting.

 

Q. Are you familiar with the house in which Mr. Darrow was murdered?

 

A. I have only such knowledge of it as I acquired at the examination

immediately after the murder. You will remember I entered but the

one room.

 

Q. And the grounds about the house? Surely you examined them?

 

A. On the contrary, I did not.

 

Q. Did you not even examine the eastern side of the house?

 

A. I did not. I have never been within the gate save on the night in

question, and then only to traverse the front walk to and from the

house in company with Messieurs Osborne and Allen. I was convinced

that the solution of the problem was to be found within the room in

which the murder was committed, and that my notes taken the night

of the tragedy contained all the data I could hope to get.

 

Q. Was not this rather a singular assumption?

 

A. For many doubtless it would be; but I have my own methods, and I

think I may say they have been measurably successful in most cases.

[This last was said