S. S. Van Dine

“ If society were omniscient, Markham, it would have a right to sit in judgment. But society is ignorant and venomous, devoid of any trace of insight or understanding. It exalts knavery, and worships stupidity. It crucifies the intelligent, and puts the diseased in dungeons. And, withal, it arrogates to itself the right and ability to analyze the subtle sources of what it calls ‘crime,’ and to condemn to death all persons whose inborn and irresistible impulses it does not like. ”

“ There she ran across those books on criminology. They appealed to her, not only as a vicious outlet for her smouldering, repressed hatred, but because they struck a responsive chord in her tainted nature. Eventually she came upon Gross’s great manual, and thus found the entire technic of crime laid out before her, with diagrams and examples—not a handbook for examining magistrates, but a guide for a potential murderer! Slowly the idea of her gory orgy took shape. At first perhaps she only imagined, as a means of self-gratification, the application of this technic of murder to those she hated. ”

“ Her voice quavered and broke. “I know what you mean! . . . Chester’s dead!”
Von Blon cleared his throat and looked away.
“Yes, Ada. You must be brave and not let it—ah—upset you too much. You see——”
“He was shot!” The words burst from her lips, and a look of terror overspread her face. “Just like Julia and me.” Her eyes stared straight ahead, as if fascinated by some horror which she alone could see.
Von Blon was silent, and Vance stepped to the bed.
“We’re not going to lie to you, Miss Greene,” he said softly. “You have guessed the truth.”
“And what about Rex—and Sibella?” ”

“ Oaths and vituperation welled shrilly from his twitching lips. His insensate wrath seemed to pass all ordinary bounds. His enormous head was thrust forward like a python’s; and his face was cyanosed and contorted.
Vance stood poised, watching him alertly; and Markham had instinctively moved back his chair. Even Heath was startled by Rex’s inordinate malignity.
What might have happened I don’t know, had not Von Blon at that moment stepped swiftly into the room and placed a restraining hand on the youth’s shoulder.
“Rex!” he said, in a calm, authoritative voice. “Get a grip on yourself. ”

“ After a moment, however, he said grudgingly:
“Since the attempted robbery interests you so keenly, you may, if you insist, wait and hear what Greene has to say.”
“I’ll stay,” smiled Vance, removing his coat. “I’m weak; just can’t resist a passionate entreaty. . . . Which one of the Greenes is Chester? And how is he related to the two deceased?”
“There was only one murder,” Markham corrected him in a tone of forbearance. “The oldest daughter—an unmarried woman in her early forties—was killed instantly. A younger daughter, who was also shot, has, I believe, a chance of recovery.” ”

“ She sat down before Markham’s desk, and for a while frowned up at the sunlight, as if debating how to begin.
“It’s about Rex, Mr. Markham,” she said finally. “I really don’t know whether I should have come here or not—it may be very disloyal of me. . . .” She gave him a look of appealing indecision. “Oh, tell me: if a person knows something—something bad and dangerous—about some one very close and very dear, should that person tell, when it might make terrible trouble?”
“That all depends,” Markham answered gravely. ”

“ Go and sit with Ada.”
The nurse drew a long, patient breath, and went silently from the room, closing the door behind her.
Mrs. Greene reverted to her former ingratiating manner.
“No one understands my needs the way Ada does, Mr. Markham. What a relief it will be when the dear child gets well enough to care for me again! But I mustn’t complain. The nurse does the best she knows how, I suppose.—Please sit down, gentlemen . . . yet what wouldn’t I give if I could only stand up the way you can. No one realizes what it means to be a helpless paralytic.” ”

“ Markham regarded him with some astonishment and considerable concern.
“Perhaps you are preparing to let the criminal escape in the present case,” he said, with the irony of resentment.
“Oh, no,” Vance assured him. “I shall turn your victim over to you. The Greene murderer is of a particularly vicious type, and should be rendered impotent. I was merely trying to suggest that the electric chair—that touchin’ device of your beloved society—is not quite the correct method of dealing with this culprit.” ”

“ Everything in me revolts against the acceptance of the truth. The fact is, I’m almost afraid to accept it. . . . Dash it all, I’m getting mellow. Middle-age has crept upon me.” He attempted to smile, but failed.
Markham waited in silence.
“No, old man,” continued Vance; “I’m not going to tell you now. I can’t tell you until I’ve looked into one or two matters. You see, the pattern is plain enough, but the recognizable objects, set in their new relationships, are grotesque—like the shapes in an awful dream. ”

“ I was too familiar with the sight to be particularly impressed; and Vance, who detested noise and disorder, looked on with an air of bored annoyance. But Ada’s face lighted up at once. Her eyes sparkled and the blood rushed to her cheeks. She gazed over the railing in a thrall of fascination.
“And now you see, Miss Greene, how foolish men can be,” said Vance.
“Oh, but it’s wonderful!” she answered. “They’re alive. They feel things. They have something to fight for.”
“You think you’d like it?” smiled Vance.
“I’d adore it. I’ve always longed to do something exciting—something . ”

“ Markham had got up and now moved restlessly toward the archway.
“The Medical Examiner will be here any minute,” he said; “and I want to look over Rex’s room before he arrives. You might come with us, doctor.—And you, Sproot, had better remain at the front door.”
We went up-stairs quietly: I think it was in all our minds that we should not advertise our presence to Mrs. Greene. Rex’s room, like all those in the Greene mansion, was spacious. It had a large window at the front and another at the side. There were no draperies to shut out the light, and the slanting midday sun of winter poured in. ”

“ And then think of those six ill-sorted, restless, unhealthy beings compelled to live there in daily contact for a quarter of a century—such was old Tobias Greene’s perverted idealism. And they’ve lived there, day in and day out, in that mouldy miasma of antiquity—unfit to meet the conditions of any alternative, too weak or too cowardly to strike out alone; held by an undermining security and a corrupting ease; growing to hate the very sight of one another, becoming bitter, spiteful, jealous, vicious; wearing down each other’s nerves to the raw ”

“ Shortly after dinner Vance bade me good night and, donning his slippers and house-robe, went into the library. I had considerable work to do that night, and it was long past midnight when I finished. On the way to my room I passed the library door, which had been left slightly ajar, and I saw Vance sitting at his desk—his head in his hands, the summary lying before him—in an attitude of oblivious concentration. He was smoking, as was habitual with him during any sort of mental activity; and the ash-receiver at his elbow was filled with cigarette-stubs. ”

“ I know old Tobias Greene has gone to his Maker.”
“Yes, old Tobias died about twelve years ago. But his wife is still living, though she’s a helpless paralytic. Then there are—or rather were—five children: the oldest, Julia; next, Chester; then another daughter, Sibella, a few years under thirty, I should say; then Rex, a sickly, bookish boy a year or so younger than Sibella; and Ada, the youngest—an adopted daughter twenty-two or three, perhaps.” ”

“ Vance shook his head slowly.
“A spy in the house would be useless. Isn’t every one there a spy now, watching all the others, and watching them with fear and suspicion? And as for dispersing the family: not only would you find old Mrs. Greene, who holds the purse-strings, an adamantine obstacle, but you’d meet all manner of legal complications as a result of Tobias’s will. No one gets a dollar, I understand, who doesn’t remain in the mansion until the worms have ravaged his carcass for a full quarter of a century. ”

“ It was on the day after the funeral that Vance paid his first unofficial visit to the Greene mansion. Sibella received him without any show of surprise.
“I’m so glad you’ve come,” she greeted him, almost gaily. “I knew you weren’t a policeman the first time I saw you. Imagine a policeman smoking Régie cigarettes! And I’m dying for some one to talk to. Of course, all the people I know avoid me now as they would a pestilence. I haven’t had an invitation since Julia passed from this silly life. Respect for the dead, I believe they call it. ”

“ In Julia’s room before the shot was fired, for she evidently saw the assassin and understood his purpose; and in Ada’s room, after the shooting! Those are facts which fairly shriek for explanation; for without an explanation they’re mad, irrational, utterly incredible.—And why wasn’t Von Blon at home in the middle of the night when Sproot phoned him? And how did it happen he nevertheless arrived so promptly? Coincidence? . . . And, by the by, Sergeant: was that double set of footprints like the single spoor of the doctor’s? ”

“ Greene’s death. She was a detestable woman, Markham—a most detestable woman. The world will not bemoan her loss.”
Vance’s comment expressed exactly the sentiment I had felt when Markham informed us of Mrs. Greene’s death. The news had of course shaken me, but I had no pity for the victim. She had been vicious and unnatural; she had thriven on hatred, and had made life a hell for every one about her. It was better that her existence was over.
Both Heath and Drumm were waiting for us in the drawing-room. ”

“ Vance sighed and continued. “Let us consider the hypothetical intruder’s means of escape after the shooting of Julia and Ada. Sproot came into the upper hall immediately after the shot had been fired in Ada’s room; yet he heard nothing—neither footsteps in the hall nor the front door closing. And, Markham old thing, a person in galoshes going down marble steps in the dark is no midsummer zephyr for silence. In the circumstances Sproot would have been certain to hear him making his escape. Therefore, the explanation that suggested itself to me was that he did not make his escape.” ”

“ Then Markham spoke.
“The finding of the galoshes pretty well proves your theory, Vance. But do you realize what confronts us now? If your reasoning is correct, the guilty person is some one with whom we’ve been talking this morning. It’s an appalling thought. I’ve gone over in my mind every member of that household; and I simply can’t regard any one of them as a potential mass-murderer.”
“Sheer moral prejudice, old dear.” Vance’s voice assumed a note of raillery. “I’m a bit cynical myself, and the only person at the Greene mansion I’d eliminate as a possibility would be Frau Mannheim. ”

“ Greene?” he asked, as he closed the drawer.
“For twelve years,” she whined. “And now, after all that time, it is to be taken from me by force—and by the police, the very people who should be protecting an old, helpless paralytic like me. It’s infamy! But what can I expect? Every one takes delight in torturing me.”
Markham, his object gained, became contrite, and endeavored to pacify her by explaining the seriousness of the situation. But in this he failed; and a few moments later he joined us in the hall.
“I don’t like this sort of thing, Vance,” he said. ”

“ Doremus was somewhat surprised by the request.
When he had gone, Markham addressed himself to Drumm.
“We’d like to talk to Ada now. How is she this morning?”
“Oh, fine!” Drumm spoke with pride. “I saw her right after I’d looked at the old lady. She’s weak and a bit dried up with all the atropine I gave her, but otherwise practically normal.”
“And she has not been told of her mother’s death?”
“Not a word.”
“She will have to know,” interposed Vance; “and there’s no point in keeping the fact from her any longer. It’s just as well that the shock should come when we’re all present.” ”

“ The nurse complied without a word. “Now, you can go in and sit with Ada until Doctor Von Blon comes.—How is the dear child?” Suddenly her voice had assumed a note of simulated solicitude.
“She’s much better, Mrs. Greene.” The nurse spoke in a colorless, matter-of-fact tone, and passed quietly into the dressing-room.
The woman on the bed turned complaining eyes upon Markham.
“It’s a terrible thing to be a cripple, unable to walk or even stand alone. Both my legs have been hopelessly paralyzed for ten years. ”

“ Chester. Ever since Miss Julia and Miss Ada were shot they’ve been talking to each other in the sneakiest way when they thought no one was looking. And this Doctor Von Blon what comes here so much: he’s a deep one. He’s been in Miss Sibella’s room with the door shut lots of times when she wasn’t any more sick than you are. And Mr. Rex, now. He’s a queer man, too. I get the creeps every time he comes near me.” She shuddered by way of demonstration. “Miss Julia wasn’t as queer as the rest. She just hated everybody and was mean.” ”

“ And here we have Friedrich Brügelmann’s ‘Über hysterische Dämmerzustände,’ and Schwarzwald’s ‘Über Hystero-Paralyse und Somnambulismus.’—I say! That’s deuced queer. . . .”
He rose and walked up and down agitatedly.
“No—no; absolutely not,” he muttered. “It simply can’t be. . . . Why should Von Blon lie to us about her?”
We all knew what was in his mind. Even Heath sensed it at once, for, though he did not speak German, the titles of the two German books—especially the latter—needed no translation to be understood. Hysteria and twilight sleep! Hysterical paralysis and somnambulism! ”

“ As we reached the lower hall Doctor Doremus arrived.
“Your friends are still at it, I hear, Sergeant,” he greeted Heath, with his usual breezy manner. Handing his coat and hat to Sproot, he came forward and shook hands with all of us. “When you fellows don’t spoil my breakfast you interfere with my lunch,” he repined. “Where’s the body?”
Heath led him up-stairs, and after a few minutes returned to the drawing-room. Taking out another cigar he bit the end of it savagely. “Well, sir, I guess you’ll want to see this Miss Sibella next, won’t you?”
“We might as well,” sighed Markham. ”

“ Markham?” Heath was on his feet, vigorously relighting his cigar.
But before Markham could answer Vance lifted his hand for silence, and leaned forward in a listening attitude.
“Oh, Sproot!” he called. “Step in here a moment.”
The old butler appeared at once, calm and subservient, and waited with a vacuously expectant expression.
“Really, y’ know,” said Vance, “there’s not the slightest need for you to hover solicitously amid the draperies of the hallway while we’re busy in here. Most considerate and loyal of you; but if we want you for anything we’ll ring.” ”

“ And, on the other hand, everything seems to have a possible relationship. The whole house is steeped in vague meanings. A hundred shadowy hands are pointing to the culprit, and the moment you try to determine the direction the hands disappear. It’s a nightmare. Nothing means anything; therefore, anything may have a meaning.”
“My dear Vance! You’re not yourself.” Markham’s tone was one of annoyance and reproach. “Your remarks are worse than the obscure ramblings of the sibyls. What if Tobias Greene did have dealings with one Mannheim in the past? ”

“ His door into the hall was open; but nobody up-stairs heard the shot—nobody up-stairs. And yet Sproot—who was down-stairs, in the butler’s pantry behind the dining-room—heard it distinctly.”
“It probably just happened that way,” Markham argued, almost automatically. “Sound acts fantastically sometimes.”
Vance shook his head.
“Nothing has ‘just happened’ in this case. There’s a terrible logic about everything—a carefully planned reason behind each detail. Nothing has been left to chance. Still, this very systematization of the crime will eventually prove the murderer’s downfall. ”

“ O’Brien grunted and tugged at his white cropped moustache.
“What the Sergeant says is perfectly true,” Moran remarked. “Most of the ordinary methods of action and investigation have been denied us. We’re obviously dealing with an inside family affair.”
“Moreover,” added Vance, “we’re dealing with an extr’ordin’rily clever plot—something that has been thought out and planned down to the minutest detail, and elaborately covered up at every point. Everything has been staked—even life itself—on the outcome. Only a supreme hatred and an exalted hope could have inspired the crimes. ”

“ She looked at him in a spirit of indulgent irony.
“I’m afraid I can’t stay so long,” she said; then added: “I suppose mother and Ada are both dead.”
“Only your mother,” Vance told her. “Ada recovered.”
“She would!” Every curve of her features expressed a fine arrogant contempt. “Common clay has great resistance, I’ve heard. You know, I’m the only one standing between her and the Greene millions now.”
“Your sister had a very close call,” Markham reprimanded her. “If we had not had a doctor on guard, you might now be the sole remaining heir to those millions.” ”

“ Vance got up.
“Thank you very much, Miss Greene. We’re sorry we had to trouble you. Do you mind remaining in your room for a while?”
“Mind? On the contrary. It’s about the only place I feel safe.” She walked to the archway. “If you do find out anything you’ll let me know—won’t you? There’s no use pretending any longer. I’m dreadfully scared.” Then, as if ashamed of her admission, she went quickly down the hall.
Just then Sproot admitted the two finger-print experts—Dubois and Bellamy—and the official photographer. Heath joined them in the hall and took them up-stairs, returning immediately. ”

“ Mother keeps her in the house waiting on her as if she were a servant.”
Vance nodded understandingly. Then he rose and placed his hand sympathetically on Rex’s shoulder. This gesture was so unlike him I was completely astonished; for, despite his deep-seated humanism, Vance seemed always ashamed of any outward show of feeling, and sought constantly to repress his emotions.
“Don’t let this tragedy upset you too much, Mr. Greene,” he said reassuringly. “And you may be certain that we’ll do everything in our power to find and punish the person who shot Miss Ada.—We won’t bother you any more now.” ”