Professor Brierly nodded with satisfaction when he looked up at
the rear facade of Miller's Folly. Near the edge of the roof, was
a chimney. A plumb line dropped from the center of the chimney
would drop about three feet to the right of the only window in the
blank, forbidding wall.
"I see," commented the old man, "a chimney. I did not know." He
turned to Brasher. "You offered to help, young man; here is your
chance. At the rear of the chimney, near its base, particularly
the two rear angles, you will find fresh marks. The chimney is
probably scuffed as though a rope had been drawn tightly about it
and pulled back and forth. You will find the edges of the roof,
coincident with the sides of the chimney, also scuffed as though a
rope had been pulled across the edge with quite a weight at its
end. You--"
Brasher did not hear the end. He was racing around the side of the
building. In a short time they saw his figure on the edge of the
roof clinging to the chimney. Then he crawled to the edge and
leaning far forward, he gazed intently at something that the men
below could not see.
Brasher looked down and nodded his head so violently that he
nearly threw himself from the roof. He came racing around the side
of the house in a short time.
"You're right, Professor; it's just like you said. I begin to see--"
Professor Brierly was pointing at a spot on the wall about three
feet from the ground. There was a scar in the cement joining the
stones. The scar was a small hole about large enough to hold a
man's small finger. The scar ran obliquely from above, downward
and inward.
Professor Brierly was saying:
"There are a number of these scars running up in a staggered
arrangement, one above the other, about a foot apart, literally. I
saw some of these scars from the window above and one especially
deep one. It is fairly obvious--"
"I get you, Professor, I get you. You think--"
Professor Brierly shook his head.
"I shall tell you definitely what I think when I have made the
tests with the revolver. Can we get shells like these at Hinkle's?
I shall need some more."
Professor Brierly chose to keep his own counsel on the way to
Lentone and thence to their camp on the lake. Arrived there, he
did not waste much time. Taking a number of sheets of paper, he
shot at them from varying distances with the revolver found in
Miller's room. Beginning by holding the muzzle an inch from the
cards, he gradually increased the distance inch by inch until he
was shooting from a distance of twelve inches. Then he shot from a
distance of fifteen, twenty, twenty-five and thirty inches.
He now turned to the men who had been watching him.
"I can now say definitely that Mr. Miller was shot with the muzzle
somewhere between twelve and fifteen inches from his temple. I
still do not understand why the killer approached so close
without--"
"Morris Miller was almost stone deaf," interrupted Brasher.
"Ah, that accounts for it; that clears up something that puzzled
me."
"Since you three have conspired to make me take an interest in
crime," his glance swept Jimmy, Matthews, and McCall, "I have gone
rather exhaustively into matters that hitherto only interested me
casually. I spent two months in the Scientific Crime Detection
Laboratory of Northwestern University. Among the subjects I took
up were powder marks.
"It was obvious to me at the first glance at the wound that it was
not self-inflicted. I felt reasonably certain that the weapon was
held a greater distance from the head than it would be held if the
victim contemplated suicide. That is why I suggested the
possibility that he had held the weapon and it had gone off by
accident. That seemed a remote possibility, but still a
possibility.
"Powder marks tell quite an interesting story to the student.
Black powder will not leave the same marks at the same distance,
either in kind or degree, as will smokeless powder. The same kind
of powder fired from a weapon with a short barrel will leave burns
that differ radically from those fired from a long barrel. The
amount of powder also will make a difference.
"Black powder is merely a physical mixture of three ingredients.
The charcoal which goes into its composition is not burned at the
time of firing and remains unchanged. Each little unburned
charcoal grain becomes a secondary projectile, which leaves its
mark not only on the surface that received the bullet if it is
close enough, but also makes little pits on the base of the
bullet.
"Smokeless or semi-smokeless powder is a chemical compound in
which the ingredients are radically changed in form. At the time
of firing, smokeless powder is practically all burned and only
gases are left, leaving neither soot nor pits on, the base of the
bullet. Smokeless powders will also leave burns on the surface at
which the bullet is fired, but neither as black, nor deep, nor as
numerous as those left by black powder.
"Thus you see, given the same ammunition, the same weapon, it can
be ascertained by tests, with a fair degree of accuracy, at what
distance a shot was fired. The zone of black around the wound
itself, the size of powder marks, the thinness with which they are
scattered, all tell their story."
"Is this true, Professor, at distances beyond which there are
powder marks?" asked Jimmy.
"Yes, it is, but not within inches, of course, nor within a few
feet, perhaps. But even at those distances it can often be
approximated.
"Given the hypothesis that Miller was murdered, the rest was easy.
If you will go back there, Brasher, and dig your nail into the
putty holding the window nearest to the bolt, you will find it
soft; the other putty is hard. There are five rows of panes. The
one I refer to is in the middle row at the extreme left. The
killer had the forethought to use putty that was of about the same
color as old putty. But I saw on the sill some minute grains of
glass glinting in the light.
"Mrs. Horsnall, without knowing why I asked the question assured
me that there had been no repairs, such as replacing panes of
glass. When I leaned out of the window, I saw the scars in the
cement. Perfectly obvious. An active man, a strong man, probably a
left-handed man, threw a string with a stone at the end over
Miller's Folly. With this string he drew over the building a
stronger twine. Finally he drew over the top of the building a
strong rope, like a wash line, or something stronger. He then drew
both ends of the rope around, forming a loop, about the chimney.
"Using the chimney as his anchor, with his rope looped around it,
it was fairly easy for an active man. He used the kind of spurs
that electric workers use to climb up wooden poles. Those spurs
left the scars I pointed out. He had a hand hold, of course, on
the two ends of the rope hanging from the chimney about two feet
from the window.
"The rest was rather difficult. When he reached the height of the
window, the nearest pane, fortunately for him, the one near the
bolt was two feet from his perch, at his left. That is why I
suggest that he may be a left-handed man. He cut out the pane,
opened the window, went in, killed Miller and then spent some time
hiding his traces. Among these was replacing a pane of glass and
using putty colored like old putty.
"A very, very dangerous murderer and a very clever one, but hardly
a subtle one."
He turned to Brasher. "Now, young man, the rest ought to be simple
police work. Find a man in possession of twine and rope, on which
you will find adhering bits of brick, cement and paint, from
Miller's roof. Find him in possession of a pair of spurs, on which
you may find adhering bits of cement and you have your murderer."
As Brasher, thanking him effusively, was about to go. Professor
Brierly detained him.
"Just a moment. I want to send a telegram to New York. Leave this
at the telegraph office for me, please."
He turned to his companions as Brasher departed; he smiled
whimsically:
"Since you insist on plunging me into these things, I might as
well be prepared. I wired for several things that we may need
before this is over."
McCall was knitting his brow. He had followed with glowing
admiration the exposition of the old savant.
"Professor," he asked, "you say the murderer is a clever one, but
hardly a subtle one. Why do you say that?"
Professor Brierly dropped wearily into a deep chair on the porch.
He shuffled the sheets of paper each with its bullet hole
surrounded by powder marks.
"A man who kills another, usually uses the tools he knows best;
frequently he uses the tools of his trade. That is easiest;
following the lines of least resistance. Or, if killing becomes
his profession, he adopts and adapts certain tools for his
purpose, with which he becomes familiar.
"Just see how this murder was accomplished. A professional need
not be ashamed of the way the pane of glass was inserted, the use
of the rope, the climbing irons, or the spurs. The man who did
this has used all these materials and tools before.
"Even in this country, where we are far behind certain European
countries in such matters, it should be a simple matter for the
police to pick up the killer. They can go through their records
for the men who are accustomed to rob houses this way. They may
find half a dozen in their files. They will pick up all of them
who are not in prison and pin this murder on the guilty person.
The others will have adequate alibis.
"It must be obvious to you, of course, that though Miller's safe
was rifled, robbery was not the real motive for the entrance; it
was murder. It must also be obvious that no eighty-two-year-old
man could have done this. If an eighty-two-year-old man
engineered it, he hired some one. The man he hired, as I am
showing you, left a broad trail. Find him and you will find the
man behind him."
He rose. "I am rather tired. I am not as young as I was. I'd
better take a rest."
"An eighty-two-year-old man? Are you suggesting, Professor--" began
McCall.
"I? I am suggesting nothing. It was you, Mr. McCall, who made the
ugly suggestion, remember.
"There is the mysterious number '14,' who, if he exists, is
assuredly not less than eighty-two years old. Then, there is a
several million dollar fund of which you told me. It was you, Mr.
McCall, who made the ugly suggestion that such a sum was a
tremendous temptation, both for men who have always been
comparatively poor and for men who have had much and now have
nothing.
"I am merely giving you the results of my conclusions from facts
as I found them.
"Incidentally, this murderer, the man who killed Miller, is not
very original. I remember a case in Germany in which a robber
entered a house using just that means, a rope, a chimney and
climbing irons. Yes, yes. It has all been done before. I did not
need all the clues I found on the window and outside the house.
The powder marks were enough. The killer was too hasty or too
careless or too ignorant. He might not have known that there is an
enormous difference between powder marks inflicted when the muzzle
is two inches away and those inflicted when the muzzle of the
weapon is twelve inches away. The powder marks alone, without any
other factors, that slight difference of a few inches, might make
the difference between life and death for the murderer."
"And the two other men, Professor?" asked Jimmy.
"Of the two other men," snapped Professor Brierly, impatiently, "I
know no more than you, and little is known about their deaths
right now."
"But don't you think," continued the persistent reporter.
"You don't mean, don't I think, Mr. Hale," jeered Professor
Brierly. "You mean don't I guess. No, I never guess. I leave that
for highly imaginative newspaper men, or," he waved his hand
sarcastically at his grinning assistant, "to John, there. Bring me
some facts and I shall try to give you an opinion, an opinion that
I may base on those facts, but, what do you know of the other
men?" he challenged sharply.
"Well, there's not much question about one of them, the one who
was drowned at Bradley Beach. That seems like an honest drowning.
But August Schurman, from our information, apparently hanged
himself in his study in one of those old houses on the lower west
side."
There was no sign of weariness now on the part of the old
scientist. He was fully aroused. His deeply sunken eyes were
glowing. Jimmy had used an old formula that he always found
efficacious.
"Oh, yes?" Professor Brierly was leaning forward. "Not much
question about Wrigley, the man who was found in the water at
Bradley Beach, is there? All we know about him is that he was
found dead in the water. Do you know that he was drowned? Of
course you don't.
"And Schurman, the man who was reported to have committed suicide
by hanging. All you know about that is that he was found hanging
in his study, dead. Do you know that he died by hanging? Do you
know that he was not dead before he was hung? If that is the case,
then obviously, he could not have hung himself. Perfectly
astonishing to me, Mr. Hale, that a man who has followed your
profession as long as you have should be so gullible. For that
matter, do you know those men are dead?"
After firing this sarcastic shaft, he shook his head, saying: "As
I said, Mr. Hale, I am tired and I need some rest. And nothing
makes me more tired than idle, futile speculation. The principal
difference between a scientist and a newspaper man, Mr. Hale, is
that one knows--the other--guesses."
* * * * *
The last rays of the sun were flaming in the sky across the lake
when Professor Brierly suddenly said to Matthews: "John, take me
down to the Higginbotham camp. The Judge tinkers with physics and
mechanics, he offered me the use of his equipment. It may be a
good thing for all of us to take our minds from this terrible
affair. Too much brooding will certainly not help."
Matthews looked at him suspiciously. Without comment, he made
ready to go.
Justice Higginbotham received the two men graciously. He took them
at once to his work shop.
"I'm just an amateur, Professor. But it is a good thing for an old
man to have a hobby, a very perplexing hobby. Modern science makes
so many strides every year, every day, that it is practically
impossible for an amateur to keep apace." He preceded them to a
spacious shed in the rear of the house. It was carefully and
immaculately arranged, each article in its place and most of them
carefully labeled.
Professor Brierly's eyes gleamed with interest as his eyes fell on
a series of tubes, some of which resembled radio tubes in their
sockets.
"Ah," he murmured. "Photo-electric tubes. It should be fairly easy
for you to keep apace with that for the reason that this
particular branch of science is still in its infancy and we are
all groping in the dark. No matter how little you know about the
matter, Judge, you cannot know a great deal less than any of us."
"That's your modesty, Professor. I had just been installing some
of the simpler devices when," his fine features clouded, "this
deplorable, this terrible affair interrupted me." There was
silence for a moment. With a visible effort of the will, he
continued:
"I am so glad you and Mr. Matthews are here. I am rather vague
about it. While I enjoy finding things out for myself, this has
been rather difficult. I am not certain I understand the photo-cell's
sensitiveness to color. You see, I was trying--"
"Why, that is comparatively simple, Judge. I see you have
everything needed right here."
"Yes, I got it all from a catalogue. But now that I have it, what
am I going to do with it?"
Professor Brierly stepped forward. He and Matthews worked quickly,
deftly, the old scientist uttering a word of explanation now and
then. The venerable jurist watched their deft handling of
intricate mechanism with keen interest and obvious enjoyment.
After half an hour that seemed to Justice Higginbotham only a few
minutes, so keen had been his absorption in the task, Professor
Brierly and Matthews stepped back. Professor Brierly had three
cards colored red, green and blue in his hand. He pointed to three
indicators that he had connected to wires running from a tube.
"You see, Judge, the three indicators are marked respectively with
the colors of these cards. As I pass these cards in front of the
tube, the corresponding indicator will record its passage. Watch!"
He passed the cards in front of the tube slowly, first in one
order then another. He changed their order; he increased their
speed. The result was the same. The respective indicators each
time, rapidly or slowly recorded the passage of the corresponding
color correctly.
Justice Higginbotham beamed with admiration.
"I told you you were modest, Professor. It would have taken me
weeks or months to do that. I've been working on rather an
ambitious project with these tubes, you may laugh when I tell you;
I was well on the way with it when," once more his features
clouded, "this hellish thing interrupted me."
Professor Brierly, glad to take the other's mind from the dreadful
tragedy stalking him and his companions, asked:
"What is the ambitious program you had mapped out that you believe
will make me laugh?"
"It is true, is it not, Professor, that the impulse transmitted by
a photo electric cell can be translated into incalculable energy;
can be made to do things that normally require a great deal of
power?"
"You have about stated the case, Judge. We know very little about
it yet, about its possibilities, but they seem endless and
practically indefinite.
"The impulse generated can be made to pick up a thread, or pull a
trigger, operate a trip hammer, blow up a mine or move a
battleship or an ocean liner, given a strong enough lever. And
that means simply a proper transformation of power or energy.
"The theory is comparatively simple. Wherever or whenever a beam
of light can be received, interrupted, modified, amplified, or
controlled in any way, a light-sensitive cell can be employed to
generate the impulse, which, properly applied, can do almost
anything.
"Does that seem too involved?" asked Professor Brierly.
"No, I think not. It was acting on that theory that I experimented
with--well, come along and I will show you."
He led the way outside, where he pointed to the overhanging rock.
"Professor, as that rock is situated now, what would happen if it
came down? You see how delicately it seems to be balanced."
"If it came down," stated Professor Brierly, "it would crush your
main building to match-wood."
"Yes, I guess it would. Well, here is what I planned. I erected a
lever behind it operated by a trigger-like arrangement. I
installed a photo-electric cell with wires running to the trigger.
I was going to shore up this side of the decline running from the
rock, so that when the trigger released it, it would be deflected
and roll into the lake.
"But at that point, this deplorable affair with our group
happened. All I needed to do was to shore up this side of it. I
was going to make quite an occasion of it. I planned to invite a
number of friends and show them that with a simple beam of light I
could move that gigantic rock."
"Hmm," commented Professor Brierly. "In view of the fact that you
have not yet made provision to deflect the rock it seems rather
dangerous to leave things in this state. If the rock came down it
would hit the roof of the porch and kill whoever happened to be
there. You say you have installed the photo-electric cell? What is
to prevent--".
"Oh, I have guarded against that, Professor. I placed the tube up
there," he pointed to what looked like a bird's nest near one of
the gables. You see, as that is situated, no light can ever get at
it; the foliage of that tree keeps the sun away and its always
rather dark there. In addition, there is that little shutter that
I placed in front of it.
"I also disconnected the wires leading from the tube to the
trigger." He beamed with the pride of the child, or the amateur,
who has done something clever. "What do you think of it,
Professor?"
"You managed very well, indeed. With this knowledge, I should feel
rather uncomfortable sitting on the porch if I did not know you
had taken all the precautions you mentioned. Playing with this
hobby must give you considerable satisfaction, Judge."
"Yes, I get a great deal of joy out of it. But come, I am being
selfish keeping you away from my other guests. They--"
He did not finish the sentence. He was once more reminded of the
terrible pall of threatening gloom hanging over him and his
comrades. The men sat in the large living-room chatting for a
while. But it was forced. None of them could pretend that he was
completely at ease.