The Case of the Registered Letter

Siders?"

  "John Siders came to our village a little over a year ago," continuedMiss Graumann. "He came from Chicago; he told us, although he wasevidently a German by birth. He bought a nice little piece of property,not far from our home, and settled down there. He was a quiet man andmade few friends, but he seemed to take to Albert and came to see usfrequently. Albert had spent some years in America, in Chicago, andSiders liked to talk to him about things and people there. But one daySiders suddenly sold his property and moved to G------. Two weeks later hewas found dead in his lodgings in the city, murdered, and now--now theyhave accused Albert of the crime."

  "On what grounds?--oh, I beg your pardon, sir; I did not mean--"

  "That's all right, Muller," said the commissioner. "As you may have toundertake the case, you might as well begin to do the questioning now."

  "They say"--Miss Graumann's voice quavered--"they say that Albert wasthe last person known to have been in Siders' room; they say that it washis revolver, found in the room. That is the dreadful part of it--it washis revolver. He acknowledges it, but he did not know, until the policeshowed it to him, that the weapon was not in its usual place in hisstudy. They tell me that everything speaks for his guilt, but I cannotbelieve it--I cannot. He says he is innocent in spite of everything. Ibelieve him. I brought him up, sir; I was like his own mother to him. Henever knew any other mother. He never lied to me, not once, when he wasa little boy, and I don't believe he'd lie to me now, now that he's aman of forty-five. He says he did not kill John Siders. Oh, I know, evenwithout his saying it, that he would not do such a thing."

  "Can you tell us anything more about the murder itself?" questionedMuller gently. "Is there any possibility of suicide? Or was there arobbery?"

  "They say it was no suicide, sir, and that there was a large sum ofmoney missing. But why should Albert take any one else's money? He hasmoney of his own, and he earns a good income besides--we have all thatwe need. Oh, it is some dreadful mistake! There is the newspaper accountof the discovery of the body. Perhaps Mr. Muller might like to readthat." She pointed to a sheet of newspaper on the desk. The commissionerhanded it to Muller. It was an evening paper, dated G------, September24th, and it gave an elaborate account, in provincial journalese, of thediscovery that morning of the body of John Siders, evidently murdered,in his lodgings. The main facts to be gathered from the long-windedstory were as follows:

  John Siders had rented the rooms in which he met his death about tendays before, paying a month's rent in advance. The lodgings consisted oftwo rooms in a little house in a quiet street. It was a street of simpletwo-story, one and two family dwellings, occupied by artisans and smalltradespeople. There were many open spaces, gardens and vacant lots inthe street. The house in which Siders lodged belonged to a travellingsalesman by the name of Winter. The man was away from home a great deal,and his wife, with her child and an old servant, lived in the lowerpart of the house, while the rooms occupied by Siders were in the upperstory. Siders lived very quietly, going out frequently in the afternoon,but returning early in the evening. He had said to his landlady that hehad many friends in G------. But during the time of his stay in the house hehad had but one caller, a gentleman who came on the evening of the 23rdof September. The old maid had opened the door for him and showed himto Mr. Siders' rooms. She described this visitor as having a full blackbeard, and wearing a broad-brimmed grey felt hat. Nobody saw the mango out, for the old maid, the only person in the house at the time, hadretired early. Mrs. Winter and her little girl were spending the nightwith the former's mother in a distant part of the city. The next morningthe old servant, taking the lodger's coffee up to him at the usual hour,found him dead on the floor of his sitting-room, shot through the heart.The woman ran screaming from the house and alarmed the neighbours. Apoliceman at the corner heard the noise, and led the crowd up to theroom where the dead man lay. It was plain to be seen that this was nota case of suicide. Everywhere were signs of a terrible struggle. Thefurniture was overturned, the dressing-table and the cupboard were openand their contents scattered on the floor, one of the window curtainswas torn into strips, as if the victim had been trying to escape by wayof the window, but had been dragged back into the room by his murderer.An overturned ink bottle on the table had spattered wide, and added tothe general confusion. In the midst of the disorder lay the body of themurdered man, now cold in the rigour of death.

  The police commissioner arrived soon, took possession of the rooms, andmade a thorough examination of the premises. A letter found on the deskgave another proof, if such were needed, that this was not a case ofsuicide. This letter was in the handwriting of the dead man, and read asfollows:

  Dear Friend:

  I appreciate greatly all the kindness shown me by yourself and your goodwife. I have been more successful than I thought possible in overcomingthe obstacles you know of. Therefore, I shall be very glad to join youday after to-morrow, Sunday, in the proposed excursion. I will call foryou at 8 A.M.--the cab and the champagne will be my share of the trip.We'll have a jolly day and drink a glass or two to our plans for thefuture.

  With best greetings for both of you,

  Your old friend,

  John

  G--------, Friday, Sept. 23rd.

  An envelope, not yet addressed, lay beside this letter. It was clearthat the man who penned these words had no thought of suicide. Onthe contrary, he was looking forward to a day of pleasure in the nearfuture, and laying plans for the time to come. The murderer's bullet hadpierced a heart pulsing with the joy of life.

  This was the gist of the account in the evening paper. Muller readit through carefully, lingering over several points which seemed tointerest him particularly. Then he turned to Miss Babette Graumann. "Andthen what happened?" he asked.

  "Then the Police Commissioner came to Grunau and questioned my nephew.They had found out that Albert was Mr. Siders' only friend here. Andlate that evening the Mayor and the Commissioner came to our house withthe revolver they had found in the room in G------, and they--they--" hervoice trembled again, "they arrested my dear boy and took him away."

  "Have you visited him in prison? What does he say about it himself?"

  "He seems quite hopeless. He says that he is innocent--oh, I know heis--but everything is against him. He acknowledges that it was he whowas in Mr. Siders' room the evening before the murder. He went therebecause Siders wrote him to come. He says he left early, and that Johnacted queerly. He knows they will not believe his story. This worry andanxiety will kill him. He has a serious heart trouble; he has sufferedfrom it for years, and it has been growing steadily worse. I dare notthink what this excitement may do for him." Miss Graumann broke downagain and sobbed aloud. Muller laid his hands soothingly on the littleold fingers that gripped the arm of the chair.

  "Did your nephew send you here to ask for help?" he inquired verygently.

  "Oh, no!" The old lady looked up at him through her tears. "No, he wouldnot have done that. I'm afraid that he'll be angry if he knows that Ihave come. He seemed so hopeless, so dazed. I just couldn't stand it.It seemed to me that the police in G-------- were taking things for granted,and just sitting there waiting for an innocent man to confess, insteadof looking for the real murderer, who may be gone, the Lord knows where,by now!" Miss Graumann's faded cheeks flushed a delicate pink, and shestraightened up in her chair again, while her eyes snapped defiancethrough the tears that hung on their lashes.

  A faint gleam twinkled up in Muller's eyes, and he did not look at hischief. Doctor von Riedau's own face glowed in a slowly mounting flush,and his eyes drooped in a moment of conscious embarrassment at somerecollection, the sting of which was evidently made worse by Muller'spresence. But Commissioner von Riedau had brains enough to acknowledgehis mistakes and to learn from them. He looked across the desk at MissGraumann. "You are right, Madam, the police have made that mistake morethan once. And a man with a clear record deserves the benefit of thedoubt. We will take up this case. Detective Muller will be put in charg
eof it. And that means, Madam, that we are giving you the very bestassistance the Imperial Police Force affords."

  Miss Babette Graumann did not attempt to speak. In a wave of emotion shestretched out both little hands to the detective and clasped his warmly."Oh, thank you," she said at last. "I thank you. He's just like my ownboy to me; he's all the child I ever had, you know."

  "But there are difficulties in the way," continued the commissioner ina business-like tone. "The local authorities in G-------- have not asked forour assistance, and we are taking up the case over their heads, as itwere. I shall have to leave that to Muller's diplomacy. He will come toG-------- and have an interview with your nephew. Then he will have to usehis own