The Case of the Golden Bullet | Page 7

greatly he had fallen from favour in the
Police Department, and the words of his respected superior showed him
that he was still in disgrace.
But the strange, quiet smile was still on his lips as, with his usual
humble deference, he accompanied the others to the sidewalk. Before
the commissioners left the house, the Chief commanded Johann to
answer carefully any questions Muller might put to him.
"He'll find something, you may be sure," said Horn, as they drove off in
the cab.
"Let him that's his business. He is officially bound to see more than the
rest of us," smiled the older official good-naturedly. "But in spite of it,
he'll never get any further than the vestibule; he'll be making bows to us
to the end of his days."
"You think so? I've wondered at the man. I know his fame in the capital,
indeed, in police circles all over Austria and Germany. It seems hard on
him to be transferred to this small town, now that he is growing old.
I've wondered why he hasn't done more for himself, with his gifts."
"He never will," replied the Chief. "He may win more fame - he may
still go on winning triumphs, but he will go on in a circle; he'll never
forge ahead as his capabilities deserve. Muller's peculiarity is that his
genius - for the man has undeniable genius - will always make
concessions to his heart just at the moment when he is about to do
something great - and his triumph is lost."
Horn looked up at his superior, whom, in spite of his good nature, he

knew to be a sharp, keen, capable police official. "I forgot you have
known Muller longer than the rest of us," he said. "What was that you
said about his heart?"
"I said that it is one of those inconvenient hearts that will always make
itself noticeable at the wrong time. Muller's heart has played several
tricks on the police department, which has, at other times, profited so
well by his genius. He is a strange mixture. While he is on the trail of
the criminal he is like the bloodhound. He does not seem to know
fatigue nor hunger; his whole being is absorbed by the excitement of
the chase. He has done many a brilliant service to the cause of justice,
he has discovered the guilt, or the innocence, of many in cases where
the official department was as blind as Justice is proverbially supposed
to be. Joseph Muller has become the idol of all who are engaged in this
weary business of hunting down wrong and punishing crime. He is
without a peer in his profession. But he has also become the idol of
some of the criminals. For if he discovers (as sometimes happens) that
the criminal is a good sort after all, he is just as likely to warn his prey,
once he has all proofs of the guilt and a conviction is certain. Possibly
this is his way of taking the sting from his irresistible impulse to ferret
out hidden mysteries. But it is rather inconvenient, and he has hurt
himself by it - hurt himself badly. They were tired of his peculiarities at
the capital, and wanted to make his years an excuse to discharge him. I
happened to get wind of it, and it was my weakness for him that saved
him."
"Yes, you brought him here when they transferred you to this town, I
remember now."
"I'm afraid it wasn't such a good thing for him, after all. Nothing ever
happens here, and a gift like Muller's needs occupation to keep it fresh.
I'm afraid his talents will dull and wither here. The man has grown
perceptibly older in this inaction. His mind is like a high-bred horse
that needs exercise to keep it in good condition."
"He hasn't grown rich at his work, either," said Horn.
"No, there's not much chance for a police detective to get rich. I've

often wondered why Muller never had the energy to set up in business
for himself. He might have won fame and fortune as a private detective.
But he's gone on plodding along as a police subordinate, and letting the
department get all the credit for his most brilliant achievements. It's a
sort of incorrigible humbleness of nature - and then, you know, he had
the misfortune to be unjustly sentenced to a term in prison in his early
youth."
"No, I did not know that."
"The stigma stuck to his name, and finally drove him to take up this
work. I don't think Muller realised, when he began, just how greatly he
is gifted. I don't know that he really knows now. He seems to do it
because he likes