The Case of the Golden Bullet | Page 4

seemed quite beside himself,
the tears rolled down his cheeks unhindered. Muller stood without a
sign of life, his sallow face seemed made of bronze; he was watching
and listening. He seemed to hear and see what no one else could see or
hear. He smiled slightly when the doctor spoke of "heart disease," and
his eyes fell on the revolver that lay near the dead man's hand on the
desk. Then he shook his head, and then he started suddenly. Horn
noticed the movement; it was in the moment when the physician raised
up the sunken figure that had fallen half over the desk.
"He was killed by a bullet," said Muller.
"Yes, that was it," replied the doctor. With the raising of the body the
dead man's waistcoat fell back into its usual position, and they could
see a little round hole in his shirt. The doctor opened the shirt bosom
and pointed to a little wound in the Professor's left breast. There were
scarcely three or four drops of blood visible. The hemorrhage had been
internal.
"He must have died at once, without suffering," said the physician.

"He killed himself - he killed himself," murmured Johann, as if
bewildered.
"It's strange that he should have found time to lay down the revolver
before he died," remarked Horn. Johann put out his hand and raised the
weapon before Horn could prevent him. "Leave that pistol where it
was," commanded the commissioner. "We have to look into this matter
more closely."
The doctor turned quickly. "You think it was a murder?" he exclaimed.
"The doors were both locked on the inside - where could the murderer
be?"
"I don't pretend to see him myself yet. But our rule is to leave things as
they are discovered, until the official examination. Muller, did you shut
the outer door?"
"Yes, sir; here is the key."
"Johann, are there any more keys for the outer door?"
"Yes, sir. One more, that is, for the third was lost some months ago.
The Professor's own key ought to be in the drawer of the little table
beside the bed."
"Will you please look for it, Muller?"
Muller went into the bedroom and soon returned with the key, which he
handed to the commissioner. The detective had found something else in
the little table drawer - a tortoise-shell hairpin, which he had carefully
hidden in his own pocket before rejoining the others.
Horn turned to the servant again. "How many times have you been out
of the apartment since last night?"
"Once only, sir, to go to the police station to fetch you."
"And you locked the door behind you?"

"Why, yes, sir. You saw that I had to turn the key twice to let you in."
Horn and Muller both looked the young man over very carefully. He
seemed perfectly innocent, and their suspicion that he might have
turned the key in pretense only, soon vanished. It would have been a
foolish suspicion anyway. If he were in league with the murderer, he
could have let the latter escape with much more safety during the night.
Horn let his eyes wander about the rooms again, and said slowly: "Then
the murderer is still here - or else - "
"Or else?" asked the doctor.
"Or else we have a strange riddle to solve."
Johann had laid the pistol down again. Muller stretched forth his hand
and took it up. He looked at it a moment, then handed it to the
commissioner. "We have to do with a murder here. There was not a
shot fired from this revolver, for every chamber is still loaded. And
there is no other weapon in sight," said the detective quietly.
"Yes, he was murdered. This revolver is fully loaded. Let us begin the
search at once." Horn was more excited than he cared to show.
Johann looked about in alarm, but when he saw the others beginning to
peer into every corner and every cupboard, he himself joined in the
man-hunt. A quarter of an hour later, the four men relinquished their
fruitless efforts and gathered beside the corpse again.
"Doctor, will you have the kindness to report to the head Commissioner
of Police, and to order the taking away of the body? We will look about
for some motive for this murder in the meantime," said Horn, as he
held out his hand to the physician.
Muller walked out to the door of the house with the doctor.
"Do you think this valet did it?" asked the physician softly.
"He? Oh, dear, no," replied the detective scornfully.

"You think he's too stupid? But this stupidity might be feigned."
"It's real enough, doctor."
"But what do you think about it - you, who have the gift of seeing more
than other