"This," he went on, picking up a dainty little arrangement of human hair, "is the false mustache worn by the murderer of Gavin Dordress, the celebrated playwright, who was shot in his penthouse apartment a few years ago. The murderer, you may remember, reversing the usual process, shaved off his mustache to commit the crime and wore a false one afterwards to avoid detection. There is no reason for saving this. My man Jermyn happened to pick it up here in my living-room and stuck it in the cabinet."
The next object Mr. Mappin selected was a smooth gold knob.
"This once formed the head of a heavy ebony walking-stick. With this stick the famous Rene Doria was killed in his love nest in the Lancaster apartments--not killed exactly; he was struck down with the stick and shot through the head. A young man of extraordinary good looks, he masqueraded as an Italian count and cut a wide swath in the nightclubs. He was about to marry one of our greatest heiresses when he was killed. In reality he was the son of a barber in Kansas City or some such place. I saved the knob because I have reason to suspect that it was the instrument of several other murders, and I am hoping that some day I may be able to fit the jig-saw puzzle together."
I asked Mr. Mappin if he had preserved any relics of the Walter Ashley murder which created so much excitement at the time.
"Only the sheaf of letters," he said, "that the murderer wrote to me before and after the crime, challenging me to bring it to light. They have a quite unusual psychological value. That murder would never have been discovered had it not been for the scoundrel's vanity. He had to tell somebody how clever he was."
"Didn't he send you his victim's ear?" I asked.
"He did," said Mr. Mappin, "but I have not preserved that little relic."
Mr. Mappin fetched the letters from his file and allowed me to read them. I had read them before in the newspapers, but it gave me a thrill actually to have the originals in my hands.
You can piece out the rest of our talk from the newspaper interview. I rushed away to my room and wrote the interview. Mr. Mappin revised it and passed it the same night and I was able to turn it in before the paper went to press. Did I enjoy my entrance at the office--and how! The boss at first refused to believe that the stuff was authentic. He called up Mappin to verify it. Then he gave me the raise. I believe we could get along on fifty a week though it would be close going in New York. But the point is that through the kindness of this old gent I have established myself at the office and things seem to be breaking right.
How about setting a date?
. . . . . . . . . .
Frank
THE END
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
>Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24