The Case of the Pool of Blood in the Pastors Study | Page 9

locked when I examined it
myself a short time ago."
"It was locked on the inside?"
"Yes, locked on the inside."
"Very well. Then we have nothing more to do here for the time being.

Let us go back into the dining-room."
The men returned to the dining-room, Muller last, for he stopped to
lock the door of the study and put the key in his pocket. Then he began
his examination of the servants.
The old housekeeper, who, as usual, was the first to rise in the
household, had also, as usual, rung the bell to waken the other servants.
Then when Liska came downstairs she had sent her up to the pastor's
room. His bedroom was to the right of the dining-room. Liska had, as
usual, knocked on the door exactly at seven o'clock and continued
knocking for some few minutes without receiving any answer. Slightly
alarmed, the girl had gone back and told the housekeeper that the pastor
did not answer.
Then the old woman asked the coachman to go up and see if anything
was the matter with the reverend gentleman. The man returned in a few
moments, pale and trembling in every limb and apparently struck dumb
by fright. He motioned the women to follow him, and all three crept up
the stairs. The coachman led them first to the pastor's bed, which was
untouched, and then to the pool of blood in his study. The sight of the
latter frightened the servants so much that they did not notice at first
that there was no sign of the pastor himself, whom they now knew must
have been murdered. When they finally came to themselves sufficiently
to take some action, the man hurried off to call the magistrate, and
Liska ran to the asylum to fetch the old doctor; the pastor's intimate
friend. The aged housekeeper, trembling in fear, crept back to her own
room and sat there waiting the return of the others.
This was the story of the early morning as told by the three servants,
who had already given their report in much the same words to the
Count on his arrival and also to the magistrate. There was no reason to
doubt the words of either the old housekeeper or of Janos, the
coachman, who had served for more than twenty years in the rectory
and whose fidelity was known. The girl Liska was scarcely eighteen,
and her round childish face and big eyes dimmed with tears,
corroborated her story. When they had told Muller all they knew, the
detective sat stroking, his chin, and looking thoughtfully at the floor.

Then he raised his head and said, in a tone of calm friendliness: "Well,
good friends, this will do for to-night. Now, if you will kindly give me
a bite to eat and a glass of some light wine, I'd be very thankful. I have
had no food since early this morning."
The housekeeper and the maid disappeared, and Janos went to the
stable to harness the Count's trap.
The magnate turned to the detective. "I thank you once more that you
have come to us. I appreciate it greatly that a stranger to our part of the
country, like yourself, should give his time and strength to this problem
of our obscure little village."
"There is nothing else calling me, sir," answered Muller. "And the
Budapest police will explain to headquarters at Vienna if I do not return
at once."
"Do you understand our tongue sufficiently to deal with these people
here?"
"Oh, yes; there will be no difficulty about that. I have hunted criminals
in Hungary before. And a case of this kind does not usually call for
disguises in which any accent would betray one."
"It is a strange profession," said the doctor.
"One gets used to it--like everything else," answered Muller, with a
gentle smile. "And now I have to thank you gentlemen for your
confidence in me."
"Which I know you will justify," said the Count.
Muller shrugged his shoulders: "I haven't felt anything yet--but it will
come--there's something in the air."
The Count smiled at his manner of expressing himself, but all four of
the men had already begun to feel sympathy and respect for this
quiet-mannered little person whose words were so few and whose voice

was so gentle. Something in his grey eyes and in the quiet
determination of his manner made them realise that he had won his
fame honestly. With the enthusiasm of his race the Hungarian Count
pressed the detective's hand in a warm grasp as he said: "I know that
we can trust in you. You will avenge the death of my old friend and of
those others who were killed here. The doctor and the magistrate will
tell you about them