THE YELLOW PENCIL
(_Friday, July 13; 2.30 p.m._)
Markham slowly lighted a fresh cigar and sat down heavily on one of
the folding chairs near the inlaid coffer, facing Vance.
“The situation is beginning to look serious--and complex,” he said,
with a weary sigh.
“More serious than you think,” Vance returned. “And far more complex.…
I assure you, Markham, that this murder is one of the most astounding
and subtle criminal plots you have ever been faced with. Superficially
it appears simple and direct--it was intended to appear that way, d’ye
see--and your first reading of the clews was exactly what the murderer
counted on.”
Markham regarded Vance shrewdly.
“You have an idea of what that plot is?” His words were more a
statement than a question.
“Yes… oh, yes.” Vance at once became aloof. “An idea?… Quite. But not
what you’d term a blindin’ illumination. I immediately suspected a
plot; and all the subsequent findings verified my theory. But I’ve
only a nebulous idea regardin’ it. And the precise object of the plot
is totally obfuscated. However, since I know that the surface
indications are deliberately misleading, there’s a chance of getting
at the truth.”
Markham sat up aggressively.
“What’s in your mind?”
“Oh, my dear chap! You flatter me abominably.” Vance smiled blandly.
“My mind is beclouded and adumbrated. It is shot with mist and mizzle,
with vapor and haze and steam; it is cirrous and nubiferous, cumulous
and vaporous; it is filled with wool-packs, mare’s-tails,
colt’s-tails, cat’s-tails, frost smoke, and spindrift. ‘The lowring
element scowls o’er the darkened landscip.’… My mind, in fact, is
nephological----”
“Spare me your meteorological vocabulary. Remember, I’m only an
ignorant District Attorney.” Markham’s sarcasm was measured by his
exasperation. “Perhaps, however, you can suggest our next step. I
frankly admit that, aside from cross-examining the members of the
Bliss household, I can’t see any means of approach to this problem;
for, if Bliss isn’t guilty, the crime was obviously committed by some
one who was not only intimate with the domestic situation here but who
had access to the house.”
“I think, don’t y’ know,” suggested Vance, “that we should first
acquaint ourselves with the conditions and relationships existing in
the ménage. It would give us a certain equipment, what? And it might
indicate some fertile line of inquiry.” He bent forward in his chair.
“Markham, the solution of this problem depends almost entirely on our
finding the motive. And there are sinister ramifications to that
motive. Kyle’s murder was no ordin’ry crime. It was planned with a
finesse and a cunning amounting to genius. Only a tremendous incentive
could have produced it. There’s fanaticism behind this crime--a
powerful, devastating _idée fixe_ that is cruel and unspeakably
ruthless. The actual murder was merely a prelimin’ry to something far
more devilish--it was the means to an end. And that ultimate object
was infinitely more terrible and despicable than Kyle’s precipitous
demise.… A nice, clean, swift murder can sometimes be justified, or at
least extenuated. But the criminal in this instance did not stop with
murder: he used it as a weapon to crush and ruin an innocent person.…”
“Granted what you say is true,”--Markham rose uneasily and leaned
against the shelves containing the _shawabtis_--“how can we discover
the interrelationships of this household without interviewing its
members?”
“By questioning the one man who stands apart from the actual inmates.”
“Scarlett?”
Vance nodded.
“He undoubtedly knows more than he has told us. He has been with the
Bliss expedition for two years. He has lived in Egypt, and is
acquainted with the family history.… Why not have him in here for a
brief _causerie_ before tackling the members of the establishment?
There are several points I could endure to know ere the investigation
proceeds.”
Markham was watching Vance closely. Presently he moved his head up and
down slowly.
“You’ve something in mind, Vance, and it’s neither nimbus, cumulus,
stratus, nor cirrus.… Very well. I’ll get Scarlett here and let you
question him.”
Heath returned to the museum at this moment.
“Doc Bliss has gone to his bedroom, with orders to stay there,” he
reported. “The rest of ’em are in the drawing-room, and Hennessey and
Emery are keeping their eye on things. Also, I sent the wagon
away--and Snitkin’s watching the front door.” I had rarely seen Heath
in so discouraged a mood.
“How did Doctor Bliss act when you ordered his release?” Vance asked.
“Didn’t seem to care one way or another,” the Sergeant told him, with
an intonation of disgust. “Didn’t even say anything. Just went
up-stairs with his head down, stunned-like.… Queer bird, if you ask
me.”
“Most Egyptologists are queer birds, Sergeant,” Vance remarked
consolingly.
Markham was again growing impatient. He addressed himself curtly to
Heath.
“Mr. Vance and I have decided to find out what Mr. Scarlett can tell
us before going on with the investigation. Will you ask him to step
here?”
The Sergeant extended his arms and let them fall in a broad gesture of
resignation. Then he went from the museum. In a few moments he
returned with Scarlett in tow.
Vance drew up several chairs. By his serious, deliberate manner I
realized that he regarded the conference with Scarlett as highly
important. At the time I was not aware of what was in his mind; nor
did I understand why he had chosen Scarlett as his chief source of
information. But before the day was over it was only too clear to me.
With subtle accuracy and precision he had chosen the one man who could
supply the data that were needed to solve the murder of Kyle. And the
things Vance learned from Scarlett that afternoon proved to be the
determining factors in his solution of the case.
Without preliminaries Vance informed Scarlett of the altered status of
Doctor Bliss.
“Mr. Markham has decided to postpone the doctor’s arrest. The evidence
at present is most conflicting. We’ve discovered several things,
which, from the legal point of view, throw serious doubt on his guilt.
The fact is, Scarlett, we’ve come to the conclusion that further
investigation is necess’ry before we can make any definite move.”
Scarlett appeared greatly relieved.
“By Jove, Vance, I’m frightfully glad of that!” he exclaimed with
complete conviction. “Doctor Bliss’s guilt is unthinkable. What could
possibly have been the man’s motive? Kyle was his benefactor----”
“Have you any ideas on the subject?” Vance interrupted.
Scarlett shook his head emphatically.
“Not the ghost of an idea. The thing has stunned me. I can’t imagine
how it could have happened.”
“Yes… most mysterious,” Vance murmured. “We’ll have to get at the
matter by tryin’ to discover the motive.… That’s why we’re appealin’
to you. We want to know just what the inner workings are in the Bliss
ménage. You, bein’ more or less of an outsider, can possibly lead us
to the truth.… For instance, you mentioned an intimate relationship
between Kyle and Mrs. Bliss’s father. Let us have the whole story.”
“It’s a bit romantic, but quite simple.” Scarlett paused and took out
his briar pipe. When he had got it going he continued: “You know the
story of old Abercrombie, Meryt’s father. He went to Egypt in 1885,
and became Grébaut’s assistant the following year when Sir Gaston
Maspero returned to France to resume his chair at the Collège de
France. Maspero returned to Egypt in 1899 and retained his position as
head of the Egyptian _Service des Antiquités_ at Cairo until his
resignation in 1914, at which time he was elected permanent Secretary
of the Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres in Paris.
Abercrombie then succeeded Maspero as Director of Antiquities at the
Cairo Museum. In 1898, however, Abercrombie had fallen in love with a
Copt lady, and had married her. Meryt was born two years later--in
1900.”
Scarlett seemed to be having difficulty with his pipe, and used two
matches to relight it.
“Kyle entered the picture four years before Meryt’s birth,” he went
on. “He came to Egypt in 1896 as a representative of a group of New
York bankers who had become financially interested in the proposed
Nile irrigation system.[*15] He met Abercrombie--then Grébaut’s
assistant--and their acquaintance developed into a close friendship.
Kyle returned to Egypt nearly every year during the process of the
dam’s construction--that is, until 1902. He naturally met the Coptic
lady whom Abercrombie subsequently married, and, I have every reason
to believe, was much smitten with her. But being Abercrombie’s friend
and a gentleman, he refrained from any trespassing. However, when the
lady died, at Meryt’s birth, he quite openly transferred his
affections from the mother to the daughter. He became Meryt’s
godfather and, in a big-hearted way, looked out for her as though she
had been his own child.… Kyle wasn’t a bad scout.”
“And Bliss?”
“Bliss first went to Egypt in the winter of 1913. He met Abercrombie
at that time, and they became friendly. He also met Meryt, who was
then only thirteen years old. Seven years later--in 1920--young
Salveter introduced Bliss to Kyle; and the first expedition to Egypt
was made in the winter of 1921-22. Abercrombie died in Egypt in the
summer of 1922, and Meryt was fathered, after a fashion, by Hani, who
had been an old family retainer. The second Bliss expedition was in
1922-23; and Bliss again met Meryt. She was now twenty-three; and the
following spring Bliss married her.… You met Meryt, Vance, on the
third Bliss expedition in 1924.… Bliss brought Meryt back to America
with him after the second expedition; and last year he added Hani to
his personal staff. Hani had then been made an under inspector by the
Egyptian Government.… That sums up the relationship between Bliss and
Kyle and Abercrombie and Meryt. Is it what you wanted?”
“Exactly.” Vance looked at the tip of his cigarette thoughtfully.
“Briefly, then, Kyle was interested in Mrs. Bliss because of his love
for her mother and his friendship for her father; and no doubt he had
an added interest in financing Bliss’s later expeditions because of
the fact that Bliss married the daughter of his lost love.”
“Yes, the assumption is perfectly reasonable.”
“That bein’ the case, Kyle probably has not forgotten Mrs. Bliss in
his will. Do you happen to know, Scarlett, if he made any provision
for her?”
“As I understand it,” Scarlett explained, “he left a very considerable
fortune to Meryt. I have only Hani’s word for it; but he once
mentioned to me that Kyle had willed her a large amount. Hani was
elated over the fact, for there’s no doubt he has a very deep,
dog-like affection for her.”
“And what of Salveter?”
“I presume that Kyle has taken care of him generously. Kyle was not
married--whether his loyalty to Meryt’s mother was responsible for his
bachelorhood, I can’t say--and Salveter was his only nephew. Moreover,
he liked Salveter immensely. I’m inclined to think that, when the will
is read, it’ll be found he left Meryt and Salveter equal amounts.”
Vance turned to Markham.
“Could you have one of your various diplomatic coadjutors find out
confidentially about Kyle’s will? I’ve a notion the data would help us
materially.”
“It might be done,” Markham returned. “The moment this thing breaks in
the papers Kyle’s attorneys will come forward. I’ll use a little
pressure.”
Vance again addressed Scarlett.
“I believe you told me that Kyle had recently begun to balk at the
expenses of the Bliss expeditions.--Can you suggest any reason for his
deflection other than lack of immediate results?”
“No-o.” Scarlett pondered a moment. “You know, expeditions such as
Doctor Bliss had planned are deucedly expensive luxuries, and the
results, of course, are highly problematic. Furthermore, however
successful they are, it takes a long time to produce any tangible
evidence of their value. Kyle was getting impatient; he was not an
Egyptologist and knew little of such matters; and he may have thought
that Doctor Bliss was on an extravagant wild-goose chase at his
expense. Fact is, he intimated last year that unless some definite
results were obtained during the new excavations he’d not go on doling
out money. That was why the doctor was so anxious last night to
present a financial report and to have Kyle see the new treasures that
arrived yesterday.”
“There was nothing personal in Kyle’s attitude?”
“To the contrary. All the relationships were very friendly. Kyle liked
Bliss personally and respected him immensely. And Bliss had only
praise and gratitude for Kyle.… No, Vance, you’ll find nothing by
going at it from that angle.”
“How did the doctor feel last night about the possible outcome of his
interview with Kyle?--Was he worried or sanguine?”
Scarlett knit his brows and puffed at his pipe.
“Neither, I should say,” he answered at length. “His state of mind was
what might be described as philosophic. He’s inclined to be
easy-going--takes things as they come--and he has a rare amount of
self-control. The serious scholar at all times--if you comprehend me.”
“Quite.…” Vance put out his cigarette and folded his hands behind his
head. “But what do you think would have been the effect on Doctor
Bliss if Kyle had refused to finance the expedition further?”
“That’s hard to say.… He’d probably have looked for capital
elsewhere--remember, he had made great strides in his work despite the
fact that he had not actually entered Intef’s tomb.”
“And what was young Salveter’s attitude in the face of a possible
cessation of the excavations?”
“He was more upset about it than the doctor. Salveter has unbounded
enthusiasm, and he made several pleas to his uncle to continue
financing the work. If Kyle had refused to go on, it would have come
pretty near breaking the lad’s heart. I understand he even offered to
forgo his inheritance if Kyle would see the expedition through.”
“There’s no mistakin’ Salveter’s earnestness,” Vance acceded. Then he
was silent for a considerable time. Finally he reached for his
cigarette-case; but he did not open it, and sat tapping it with his
fingers. “There’s another point I want to ask you about, Scarlett,” he
said presently. “How does Mrs. Bliss regard her husband’s work?”
The question was vague--purposely so, I imagine; and Scarlett was a
little puzzled. But after a moment he replied:
“Oh, Meryt is quite the loyal wife. During the first year or so of her
marriage she was most interested in all the doctor did--in fact, she
accompanied him, as you know, on his 1924 expedition. Lived in a tent
and all that sort of thing, and seemed perfectly happy. But--to tell
you the truth, Vance--her interest has been waning of late. A racial
reaction, I take it. The Egyptian blood in her is a powerful
influence. Her mother was almost fanatical on the subject of Egyptian
sanctity, and very proud; resented the so-called desecration of the
tombs of her ancestors by western barbarians--as she designated all
Occidental scientists. But Meryt has never voiced her own
opinion,--I’m merely assuming that some of her mother’s antagonism has
recently cropped out in her. Nothing serious though, please
understand. Meryt has been absolutely loyal to Bliss and his chosen
work.”
“Hani may have had something to do with her state of mind,” commented
Vance.
Scarlett shot him a questioning look.
“It’s barely possible,” he admitted reluctantly, and lapsed into
silence.
Vance tenaciously pursued the subject.
“Most probable, I’d say. And I’d go even further. I’ve a suspicion
that Doctor Bliss himself recognized Hani’s influence on his wife, and
became bitterly resentful. You recall the tirade he launched against
Hani when he came into the museum this morning. He openly accused Hani
of poisoning Mrs. Bliss’s mind.”
Scarlett moved uneasily in his chair and chewed the stem of his pipe.
“There’s never been any love between the doctor and Hani,” he remarked
evasively. “Bliss brought him to America solely because Meryt insisted
on it. I think he believes Hani is spying on him for the Egyptian
Government.”
“Is it entirely unlikely?” Vance put the question offhandedly.
“Really, Vance, I can’t answer that.” Scarlett suddenly leaned
forward, and his features became tense. “But I’ll tell you this: Meryt
is incapable of any fundamental disloyalty to her husband. Even though
she may think she made a mistake in marrying Doctor Bliss--who’s much
older than she is and completely absorbed in his work--she’d stand by
her bargain… like a thoroughbred.”
“Ah… just so.” Vance nodded slightly and selected a _Régie_ from his
case. “And that brings me to a most delicate question.… Do you think
that Mrs. Bliss has any--what shall I say?--interests outside of her
husband? That is, aside from Doctor Bliss’s life work, is it possible
that her more intimate emotions are involved elsewhere?”
Scarlett got to his feet and began spluttering.
“Oh, really, Vance.… Dash it all!… You’ve no right to ask me such a
question.… I’m no quidnunc.… One doesn’t talk about such things; it’s
not done--really it isn’t, old man.… You put me in a most embarrassing
position.…” (Scarlett’s predicament roused my sympathy.)
“Neither is murder done in the best circles,” returned Vance equably.
“We’re dealin’ with a most unusual situation. And somebody translated
Kyle from this world into the hereafter in a very distressin’
fashion.… But since your sensitivities are so deuced lacerated I’ll
withdraw the question.” He smiled disarmingly. “You’re not entirely
impervious to the lady’s charms yourself--eh, what, Scarlett?”
The man whirled about and glared at Vance ferociously. Before he could
answer, Vance stood up and looked him steadily in the eyes.
“A man has been murdered,” he said quietly; “and a devilish plot has
been introduced into that murder. Another human life is at stake. And
I’m here to find out who concocted this hideous scheme and to save an
innocent person from the electric chair. Therefore I’m not going to
let any squeamish conventional taboos stand in my way.” His voice
softened somewhat. “I appreciate your reticence. Under ordin’ry
circumstances it would be most admirable. But just now it’s rather
silly.”
Scarlett met Vance’s gaze squarely, and after a few seconds he sat
down again.
“You’re quite right, old man,” he acquiesced, in a low voice. “I’ll
tell you anything you want to know.”
Vance nodded indifferently and smoked for a while.
“I think you’ve told me everything,” he said finally. “But we may call
on you later.… It’s far past lunch time. Suppose you toddle along
home.”
Scarlett drew a deep sigh of relief and got to his feet.
“Thanks awfully.” And without another word he went out.
Heath followed him, and we could hear him giving instructions to
Snitkin to let Scarlett leave the house.
“Well,” said Markham to Vance, when the Sergeant had returned; “how
has Scarlett’s information helped you? I can’t see that it has thrown
any very dazzling light on our problem.”
“My word!” Vance shook his head with commiserating incredulity.
“Scarlett has put us infinitely forrader. He was most revealin’. We
now have a definite foundation on which to stand when we chivy the
members of the household.”
“I’m glad you feel so confident.” Markham rose and regarded Vance
sternly. “You can’t really believe----?” He broke off, as if he did
not quite dare to articulate his thought.
“Yes, I believe this crime was merely a means to an end,” Vance
returned. “Its real object, I’m convinced, was to involve an innocent
person and thus wash the slate clean of several annoyin’ elements.”
Markham stood stock-still for several seconds.
“I think I see what you mean,” he nodded. “It’s possible of course.”
He walked up the museum and back again, his head clouded in cigar
smoke.
“See here;”--he stood looking grimly down at Vance--“I want to ask you
a question. I recall your asking Salveter for a pencil.… What make of
pencil was used for that ‘upright’ which you found on top of the end
cabinet?--Was it a Mongol No. 1?”
Vance shook his head.
“No. It was not a Mongol. It was a Koh-i-noor--an HB, a much harder
lead than the No. 1 Mongol, which is very soft.… Y’ know, Mongols and
Koh-i-noors look exactly alike: they’re both hexagonal and yellow. The
Koh-i-noor is made by Hardtmuth in Czecho-Slovakia--one of the oldest
firms in Europe. Originally the Koh-i-noors were Austrian pencils, but
after the World War the old Austrian empire was divided----”
“Never mind the kindergarten lesson in history.” Markham’s face became
suddenly overcast. “So it wasn’t a Mongol that was used in the death
trap.…” He came closer to Vance. “Another question--and all your
garrulousness about the Austrian Successor States can’t divert me:
What make of pencil were those you looked at on Doctor Bliss’s desk in
the study?”
Vance sighed.
“I feared you’d ask that question. And, y’ know, I’m almost afraid to
tell you--you’re so impulsive.…”
Markham glowered with exasperation and started toward Bliss’s study.
“Oh, it won’t be necess’ry for you to trudge up the spiral stairs,”
Vance called after him. “I’ll tell you.… They were Koh-i-noors.”
“Ah!”
“But I say; are you goin’ to let that fact influence you?”
There was a slight pause before Markham answered.
“No.… After all, the pencil is not a particularly convincing piece of
evidence, especially as every one had access to the study.”
Vance grinned and looked puckish.
“Such broadmindedness in a district attorney is positively amazin’,”
he said.