The Lamp That Went Out | Page 8

was evidently suffering from
the disease of our century - nervousness, for Muller saw that the man's
hands clenched feverishly and that his lips were trembling under his
drooping moustache.
The maid hastened down with the rug and spread it over her mistress's
knees, as the gentleman exclaimed nervously: "Do hurry with that! Do
you want us to miss the train?"
The butler closed the door of the carriage, the coachman gathered up
the reins and raised his whip. The housekeeper bowed low and
murmured a few words in farewell and the other servants followed her
example with tears in their eyes. "You'll see us again in six weeks," the
lady called out and her husband added: "If all goes well." Then he
motioned to the waiting driver and the carriage moved off swiftly,
turning the corner in a few moments.
The little group of servants returned to the courtyard behind the high
gates. Muller, whom they had not noticed, was about to resume his
walk, when he halted again. The courtyard of the house led back
through a flagged walk to the park-like garden that surrounded it on the
sides and rear. Down this walk came a young woman. She came so
quickly that one might almost call it running. She was evidently excited
about something. Muller imagined what this something might be, and
he remained to hear what she had to say. He was not mistaken. The
woman, it was Mrs. Schmiedler, the gardener's wife, began her story at

once. "Haven't you heard yet?" she said breathlessly. "No, you can't
have heard it yet or you wouldn't stand there so quietly, Mrs.
Bernauer."
"What's the matter?" asked the woman whom Muller took to be the
housekeeper.
"They killed a man last night out here! They found his body just now in
the lane back of our garden. The janitor from No.1 told me as I was
going to the store, so I went right back to look at the place, and I came
to tell you, as I didn't think you'd heard it yet."
Mrs. Bernauer was evidently a woman of strong constitution and of an
equable mind. The other three servants broke out into an excited
hubbub of talk while she remained quite indifferent and calm. "One
more poor fellow who had to leave the world before he was ready," she
remarked calmly, with just the natural touch of pity in her voice that
would come to any warm-hearted human being upon hearing of such an
occurrence. She did not seem at all excited or alarmed to think that the
scene of the crime had been so near.
The other servants were very much more excited and had already
rushed off, under the guidance of the gardener's wife, to look at the
dreadful spot. Franz, the butler, had quite forgotten to close the front
gate in his excitement, and the housekeeper turned to do it now.
"The fools, see them run," she exclaimed half aloud. "As if there was
anything for them to do there."
The gate closed, Mrs. Bernauer turned and walked slowly to the house.
Muller walked on also, going first to the police station to report what he
had discovered. Then he went to his own rooms and slept until nearly
noon. On his return to the police station he found that notices of the
occurrence had already been sent out to the papers.
CHAPTER III
THE EVENING PAPER

The autopsy proved beyond a doubt that the murdered man had been
dead for many hours before the discovery of his body. The bullet which
had struck him in the back had pierced the trachea and death had
occurred within a few minutes. The only marks for identification of the
body were the initials L. W. on his underwear. The evening paper
printed an exact description of the man's appearance and his clothing.
It was about ten o'clock next morning when Mrs. Klingmayer, a widow
living in a quiet street at the opposite end of the city from Hietzing,
returned from her morning marketing. It was only a few little bundles
that she brought with her and she set about preparing her simple dinner.
Her packages were wrapped in newspapers, which she carefully
smoothed out and laid on the dresser.
Mrs. Klingmayer was the widow of a street-car conductor and the little
pension which she received from the company, as well as the money
she could earn for herself, did not permit of the indulgence in a daily
newspaper. And yet the reading of the papers was the one luxury for
which the simple woman longed. Her grocer, who was a friend of years,
knew this and would wrap up her purchases in papers of recent date,
knowing that she could then enjoy them in her few