The Case of the Golden Bullet | Page 6

the Promenade."
"But there's a little gate there?"
"Yes, sir."
"Is that usually closed?"
"We never use the key for that, sir. It has a trick lock that you can't
open unless you know how."
"You said you went to the theatre yesterday evening. Did your master
give you permission to go?"
"Yes, sir. It's about a year now that he gave me money for a theatre
ticket every Saturday evening. He was very kind."
"Did you come into the house last night by the front door, or through
the garden?"

"Through the garden, sir. I walked down the Promenade from the
theatre."
"And you didn't notice anything - you saw no traces of footsteps?"
"No, sir. I didn't notice anything unusual. We shut the side door, the
garden door, every evening, also. It was closed yesterday and I found
the key - we've only got one key to the garden door - in the same place
where I was told to hide it when I went out in the evening."
"What place was that?"
"In one of the pails by the well."
"You say you were told to hide it there?"
"Yes, sir; the Professor told me. He'd go out in the evening sometimes,
too, I suppose, and he wanted to be able to come in that way if
necessary."
"And no one else knew where the key was hidden?"
"No one else, sir. It's nearly a year now that we've been alone in the
house. Who else should know of it?"
"When you looked through the keyhole last night, are you sure that the
Professor was still alive?"
"Why, yes, sir; of course I couldn't say so surely. I thought he was
reading or writing, but oh, dear Lord! there he was this morning, nearly
twelve hours later, in just the same position." Johann shivered at the
thought that he might have seen his master sitting at his desk, already a
corpse.
"He must have been dead when you came home. Don't you think the
sound of that shot would have wakened you?"
"Yes, sir, I think likely, sir," murmured Johann. "But if the murderer
could get into the house, how could he get into the apartment?"

"There must have been a third key of which you knew nothing,"
answered Horn, turning to Muller again. "It's stranger still how Fellner
could have been shot, for the window-shutters were fastened and quite
uninjured, and both doors were locked on the inside."
As he said these words, Horn looked sharply at his subordinate; but
Muller's calm face did not give the slightest clue to his thoughts. The
experienced police commissioner was pleased and yet slightly angered
at this behaviour on the part of the detective. He knew that it was quite
possible that Muller had already formed a clear opinion about the case,
and that he was merely keeping it to himself. And yet he was glad to
see that the little detective had apparently learned a lesson from his
recent mistake concerning the death of Mrs. Kniepp - that he had
somewhat lost confidence in his hitherto unerring instinct, and did not
care to express any opinion until he had studied the matter a little closer.
The commissioner was just a little bit vain, and just a little bit jealous
of this humble detective's fame.
Muller shrugged his shoulders at the remark of his superior, and the
two men stood silent, thinking over the case, as the Chief of Police
appeared, accompanied by the doctor, a clerk, and two hospital
attendants. The chief commissioner received the report of what had
been discovered, while the corpse was laid on a bier to be taken to the
hospital.
Muller handed the commissioner his hat and cane and helped him into
his overcoat. Horn noticed that the detective himself was making no
preparations to go out. "Aren't you coming with us?" he asked,
astonished.
"I hope the gentlemen will allow me to remain here for a little while,"
answered Muller modestly.
"But you know that we will have to close the apartment officially," said
Horn, his voice sharpening in his surprise and displeasure.
"I do not need to be in these rooms any longer."

"Don't let them disturb you, my dear Muller; we will allow your
keenness all possible leeway here." The Head of Police spoke with
calm politeness, but Muller started and shivered. The emphasis on the
"here" showed him that even the head of the department had been
incensed at his suggestion that the beautiful Mrs. Kniepp had died of
her own free will. It had been his assertion of this which, coming to the
ears of the bereaved husband, had enraged and embittered him, and had
turned the power of his influence with the high authorities against the
detective. Muller knew how