The Mystery of the Yellow Room, Page 23

Stangerson's room, at all? Why should he twice attempt to murder

  her?"

  "Because he loves her, Monsieur President."

  "That is certainly a reason, but-"

  "It is the only reason. He was madly in love, and because of that,

  and--other things, he was capable of committing any crime."

  "Did Mademoiselle Stangerson know this?"

  "Yes, Monsieur; but she was ignorant of the fact that the man who

  was pursuing her was Frederic Larsan, otherwise, of course, he

  would not have been allowed to be at the chateau. I noticed, when

  he was in her room after the incident in the gallery, that he kept

  himself in the shadow, and that he kept his head bent down. He was

  looking for the lost eye-glasses. Mademoiselle Stangerson knew

  Larsan under another name."

  "Monsieur Darzac," asked the President, "did Mademoiselle Stangerson

  in any way confide in you on this matter? How is it that she has

  never spoken about it to anyone? If you are innocent, she would

  have wished to spare you the pain of being accused."

  "Mademoiselle Stangerson told me nothing," replied Monsieur Darzac.

  "Does what this young man says appear probable to you?" the

  President asked.

  "Mademoiselle Stangerson has told me nothing," he replied stolidly.

  "How do you explain that, on the night of the murder of the keeper,"

  the President asked, turning to Rouletabille, "the murderer brought

  back the papers stolen from Monsieur Stangerson?--How do you explain

  how the murderer gained entrance into Mademoiselle Stangerson's

  locked room?"

  "The last question is easily answered. A man like Larsan, or

  Ballmeyer, could have had made duplicate keys. As to the documents,

  I think Larsan had not intended to steal them, at first. Closely

  watching Mademoiselle with the purpose of preventing her marriage

  with Monsieur Robert Darzac, he one day followed her and Monsieur

  into the Grands Magasins de la Louvre. There he got possession of

  the reticule which she lost, or left behind. In that reticule was

  a key with a brass head. He did not know there was any value

  attached to the key till the advertisement in the newspapers revealed

  it. He then wrote to Mademoiselle, as the advertisement requested.

  No doubt he asked for a meeting, making known to her that he was

  also the person who had for some time pursued her with his love.

  He received no answer. He went to the Post Office and ascertained

  that his letter was no longer there. He had already taken complete

  stock of Monsieur Darzac, and, having decided to go to any lengths

  to gain Mademoiselle Stangerson, he had planned that, whatever might

  happen, Monsieur Darzac, his hated rival, should be the man to be

  suspected.

  "I do not think that Larsan had as yet thought of murdering

  Mademoiselle Stangerson; but whatever he might do, he made sure that

  Monsieur Darzac should suffer for it. He was very nearly of the

  same height as Monsieur Darzac and had almost the same sized feet.

  It would not be difficult, to take an impression of Monsieur Darzac's

  footprints, and have similar boots made for himself. Such tricks

  were mere child's play for Larsan, or Ballmeyer.

  "Receiving no reply to his letter, he determined, since Mademoiselle

  Stangerson would not come to him, that he would go to her. His plan

  had long been formed. He had made himself master of the plans of

  the chateau and the pavilion. So that, one afternoon, while Monsieur

  and Mademoiselle Stangerson were out for a walk, and while Daddy

  Jacques was away, he entered the latter by the vestibule window. He

  was alone, and, being in no hurry, he began examining the furniture.

  One of the pieces, resembling a safe, had a very small keyhole.

  That interested him! He had with him the little key with the brass

  head, and, associating one with the other, he tried the key in the

  lock. The door opened. He saw nothing but papers. They must be

  very valuable to have been put away in a safe, and the key to which

  to be of so much importance. Perhaps a thought of blackmail occurred

  to him as a useful possibility in helping him in his designs on

  Mademoiselle Stangerson. He quickly made a parcel of the papers and

  took it to the lavatory in the vestibule. Between the time of his

  first examination of the pavilion and the night of the murder of the

  keeper, Larsan had had time to find out what those papers contained.

  He could do nothing with them, and they were rather compromising.

  That night he took them back to the chateau. Perhaps he hoped that,

  by returning the papers he might obtain some gratitude from

  Mademoiselle Stangerson. But whatever may have been his reasons,

  he took the papers back and so rid himself of an encumbrance."

  Rouletabille coughed. It was evident to me that he was embarrassed.

  He had arrived at a point where he had to keep back his knowledge of

  Larsan's true motive. The explanation he had given had evidently

  been unsatisfactory. Rouletabille was quick enough to note the bad

  impression he had made, for, turning to the President, he said:

  "And now we come to the explanation of the Mystery of The Yellow

  Room!"

  A movement of chairs in the court with a rustling of dresses and an

  energetic whispering of "Hush!" showed the curiosity that had been

  aroused.

  "It seems to me," said the President, "that the Mystery of The

  Yellow Room, Monsieur Rouletabille, is wholly explained by your

  hypothesis. Frederic Larsan is the explanation. We have merely

  to substitute him for Monsieur Robert Darzac. Evidently the door

  of The Yellow Room was open at the time Monsieur Stangerson was

  alone, and that he allowed the man who was coming out of his

  daughter's chamber to pass without arresting him--perhaps at her

  entreaty to avoid all scandal."

  "No, Monsieur President," protested the young man. "You forget

  that, stunned by the attack made on her, Mademoiselle Stangerson

  was not in a condition to have made such an appeal. Nor could she

  have locked and bolted herself in her room. You must also remember

  that Monsieur Stangerson has sworn that the door was not open."

  "That, however, is the only way in which it can be explained. The

  Yellow Room was as closely shut as an iron safe. To use your own

  expression, it was impossible for the murderer to make his escape

  either naturally or supernaturally. When the room was broken into

  he was not there! He must, therefore, have escaped."

  "That does not follow."

  "What do you mean?"

  "There was no need for him to escape--if he was not there!"

  "Not there!"

  "Evidently, not. He could not have been there, if he were not found

  there."

  "But, what about the evidences of his presence?" asked the President.

  "That, Monsieur President, is where we have taken hold of the wrong

  end. From the time Mademoiselle Stangerson shut herself in the room

  to the time her door was burst open, it was impossible for the

  murderer to escape. He was not found because he was not there during

 
; that time."

  "But the evidences?"

  "They have led us astray. In reasoning on this mystery we must not

  take them to mean what they apparently mean. Why do we conclude the

  murderer was there?--Because he left his tracks in the room? Good!

  But may he not have been there before the room was locked. Nay, he

  must have been there before! Let us look into the matter of these

  traces and see if they do not point to my conclusion.

  "After the publication of the article in the 'Matin' and my

  conversation with the examining magistrate on the journey from Paris

  to Epinaysur-Orge, I was certain that The Yellow Room had been

  hermetically sealed, so to speak, and that consequently the murderer

  had escaped before Mademoiselle Stangerson had gone into her chamber

  at midnight.

  "At the time I was much puzzled. Mademoiselle Stangerson could

  not have been her own murderer, since the evidences pointed to some

  other person. The assassin, then, had come before. If that were so,

  how was it that Mademoiselle had been attacked after? or rather,

  that she appeared to have been attacked after? It was necessary for

  me to reconstruct the occurrence and make of it two phases--each

  separated from the other, in time, by the space of several hours.

  One phase in which Mademoiselle Stangerson had really been attacked

  --the other phase in which those who heard her cries thought she

  was being attacked. I had not then examined The Yellow Room. What

  were the marks on Mademoiselle Stangerson? There were marks of

  strangulation and the wound from a hard blow on the temple. The

  marks of strangulation did not interest me much; they might have

  been made before, and Mademoiselle Stangerson could have concealed

  them by a collarette, or any similar article of apparel. I had to

  suppose this the moment I was compelled to reconstruct the occurrence

  by two phases. Mademoiselle Stangerson had, no doubt, her own

  reasons for so doing, since she had told her father nothing of it,

  and had made it understood to the examining magistrate that the

  attack had taken place in the night, during the second phase. She

  was forced to say that, otherwise her father would have questioned

  her as to her reason for having said nothing about it.

  "But I could not explain the blow on the temple. I understood it

  even less when I learned that the mutton-bone had been found in her

  room. She could not hide the fact that she had been struck on the

  head, and yet that wound appeared evidently to have been inflicted

  during the first phase, since it required the presence of the

  murderer! I thought Mademoiselle Stangerson had hidden the wound

  by arranging her hair in bands on her forehead.

  "As to the mark of the hand on the wall, that had evidently been

  made during the first phase--when the murderer was really there.

  All the traces of his presence had naturally been left during the

  first phase; the mutton-bone, the black footprints, the Basque cap,

  the handkerchief, the blood on the wall, on the door, and on the

  floor. If those traces were still all there, they showed that

  Mademoiselle Stangerson--who desired that nothing should be known

  --had not yet had time to clear them away. This led me to the

  conclusion that the two phases had taken place one shortly after

  the other. She had not had the opportunity, after leaving her room

  and going back to the laboratory to her father, to get back again

  to her room and put it in order. Her father was all the time with

  her, working. So that after the first phase she did not re-enter

  her chamber till midnight. Daddy Jacques was there at ten o'clock,

  as he was every night; but he went in merely to close the blinds

  and light the night-light. Owing to her disturbed state of mind

  she had forgotten that Daddy Jacques would go into her room and

  had begged him not to trouble himself. All this was set forth in

  the article in the 'Matin.' Daddy Jacques did go, however, and, in

  the dim light of the room, saw nothing.

  "Mademoiselle Stangerson must have lived some anxious moments while

  Daddy Jacques was absent; but I think she was not aware that so

  many evidences had been left. After she had been attacked she had

  only time to hide the traces of the man's fingers on her neck and

  to hurry to the laboratory. Had she known of the bone, the cap,

  and the handkerchief, she would have made away with them after she

  had gone back to her chamber at midnight. She did not see them, and

  undressed by the uncertain glimmer of the night light. She went to

  bed, worn-out by anxiety and fear--a fear that had made her remain

  in the laboratory as late as possible.

  "My reasoning had thus brought me to the second phase of the tragedy,

  when Mademoiselle Stangerson was alone in the room. I had now to

  explain the revolver shots fired during the second phase. Cries of

  'Help!--Murder!' had been heard. How to explain these? As to the

  cries, I was in no difficulty; since she was alone in her room these

  could result from nightmare only. My explanation of the struggle and

  noise that were heard is simply that in her nightmare she was haunted

  by the terrible experience she had passed through in the afternoon.

  In her dream she sees the murderer about to spring upon her and she

  cries, 'Help! Murder!' Her hand wildly seeks the revolver she had

  placed within her reach on the night-table by the side of her bed,

  but her hand, striking the table, overturns it, and the revolver,

  falling to the floor, discharges itself, the bullet lodging in the

  ceiling. I knew from the first that the bullet in the ceiling must

  have resulted from an accident. Its very position suggested an

  accident to my mind, and so fell in with my theory of a nightmare.

  I no longer doubted that the attack had taken place before

  Mademoiselle had retired for the night. After wakening from her

  frightful dream and crying aloud for help, she had fainted.

  "My theory, based on the evidence of the shots that were heard at

  midnight, demanded two shots--one which wounded the murderer at

  the time of his attack, and one fired at the time of the nightmare.

  The evidence given by the Berniers before the examining magistrate

  was to the effect that only one shot had been heard. Monsieur

  Stangerson testified to hearing a dull sound first followed by a

  sharp ringing sound. The dull sound I explained by the falling of

  the marble-topped table; the ringing sound was the shot from the

  revolver. I was now convinced I was right. The shot that had

  wounded the hand of the murderer and had caused it to bleed so that

  he left the bloody imprint on the wall was fired by Mademoiselle in

  self-defence, before the second phase, when she had been really

  attacked. The shot in the ceiling which the Berniers heard was the

  accidental shot during the nightmare.

  "I had now to explain the wound on the temple. It was not severe

  enough to have been made by means of the mutton-bone, and

  Mademoiselle had not attempted to hide it. It must have been made />
  during the second phase. It was to find this out that I went to

  The Yellow Room, and I obtained my answer there."

  Rouletabille drew a piece of white folded paper from his pocket, and

  drew out of it an almost invisible object which he held between his

  thumb and forefinger.

  "This, Monsieur President," he said, "is a hair--a blond hair

  stained with blood;--it is a hair from the head of Mademoiselle

  Stangerson. I found it sticking to one of the corners of the

  overturned table. The corner of the table was itself stained with

  blood--a tiny stain--hardly visible; but it told me that, on

  rising from her bed, Mademoiselle Stangerson had fallen heavily

  and had struck her head on the corner of its marble top.

  "I still had to learn, in addition to the name of the assassin,

  which I did later, the time of the original attack. I learned

  this from the examination of Mademoiselle Stangerson and her

  father, though the answers given by the former were well calculated

  to deceive the examining magistrate--Mademoiselle Stangerson had

  stated very minutely how she had spent the whole of her time that

  day. We established the fact that the murderer had introduced

  himself into the pavilion between five and six o'clock. At a

  quarter past six the professor and his daughter had resumed their

  work. At five the professor had been with his daughter, and since

  the attack took place in the professor's absence from his daughter,

  I had to find out just when he left her. The professor had stated

  that at the time when he and his daughter were about to re-enter

  the laboratory he was met by the keeper and held in conversation

  about the cutting of some wood and the poachers. Mademoiselle

  Stangerson was not with him then since the professor said: 'I left

  the keeper and rejoined my daughter who was at work in the

  laboratory.'

  "It was during that short interval of time that the tragedy took

  place. That is certain. In my mind's eye I saw Mademoiselle

  Stangerson re-enter the pavilion, go to her room to take off her

  hat, and find herself faced by the murderer. He had been in the

  pavilion for some time waiting for her. He had arranged to pass

  the whole night there. He had taken off Daddy Jacques's boots; he

  had removed the papers from the cabinet; and had then slipped under

  the bed. Finding the time long, he had risen, gone again into the

  laboratory, then into the vestibule, looked into the garden, and

  had seen, coming towards the pavilion, Mademoiselle Stangerson

  --alone. He would never have dared to attack her at that hour, if

  he had not found her alone. His mind was made up. He would be

  more at ease alone with Mademoiselle Stangerson in the pavilion,

  than he would have been in the middle of the night, with Daddy

  Jacques sleeping in the attic. So he shut the vestibule window.

  That explains why neither Monsieur Stangerson, nor the keeper, who

  were at some distance from the pavilion, had heard the revolver shot.

  "Then he went back to The Yellow Room. Mademoiselle Stangerson came

  in. What passed must have taken place very quickly. Mademoiselle

  tried to call for help; but the man had seized her by the throat.

  Her hand had sought and grasped the revolver which she had been

  keeping in the drawer of her night-table, since she had come to

  fear the threats of her pursuer. The murderer was about to strike

  her on the head with the mutton-bone--a terrible weapon in the

  hands of a Larsan or Ballmeyer; but she fired in time, and the shot

  wounded the hand that held the weapon. The bone fell to the floor

  covered with the blood of the murderer, who staggered, clutched at

  the wall for support--imprinting on it the red marks--and, fearing

  another bullet, fled.

  "She saw him pass through the laboratory, and listened. He was long

  at the window. At length he jumped from it. She flew to it and

  shut it. The danger past, all her thoughts were of her father. Had