Minute Mysteries [Detectograms]

water full on. When he went to turn it off, he found to his dismay that the mechanism controlling the drain and the taps was out of order. He couldn’t let the water out and he couldn’t turn the tap off. Neither could he unlock the door, and it was impossible to make himself heard. What a predicament! There he was in a locked bath with no window, couldn’t open or break down the door, couldn’t let the water out, or turn it off, and he had no way of attracting attention. ‘Such a situation might have disturbed most people, but not Joe. He leisurely proceeded with his bath and, when finished, nonchalantly departed.’ ‘My dear Jud,’ smiled the Professor, ‘your friend was indeed eccentric. Of course, there was only one way out for him.’ This one’s easy, don’t you think? 64 _Murder in the First Degree_ ‘Well, Inspector, we have your man,’ said Fordney as he walked into the office. ‘He gave us a merry chase, though. ‘What a cool one this murderer is! He calmly ate his dinner while planning the crime. He didn’t give the cashier a chance—just brutally shot him down in cold blood—and all for thirty dollars. I tell you, Inspector, a man doesn’t need much incentive to commit murder these days. After shooting the cashier, he made a fast get-away in a waiting car. ‘Fortunately, there was a policeman having dinner in the restaurant at the time, and he gave orders that nothing was to be disturbed at the table where the suspected murderer had eaten. ‘There are several witnesses who will identify him, including the waitress who served him, but no jury will convict on that alone. ‘While I found none of the suspect’s fingerprints, personal effects, or physical traces at or on the table, I did find there a sure means of conviction. I am positive he calmly premeditated this outrage while eating his dinner.’ ‘I hope you’re right, Professor,’ said Inspector Kelley, ‘but both he and his attorney seem confident. They claim the gun was discharged accidentally.’ ‘They’ll never get away with that. The Prosecuting Attorney will be able to prove that this man deliberately planned the crime while eating his dinner. It’s murder in the first degree!’ How did the Professor know the crime was premeditated? 65 _A Rendezvous with Death_ ‘One runs into unique conspiracies in my work,’ said Professor Fordney over his after-dinner coffee. ‘Here is the clue to that Stone case you are all interested in,’ he continued, passing the following newspaper advertisement: WANTED. Competent private secretary. Unusual salary and opportunity for young man speaking Spanish. Culture and refinement necessary qualifications. Address KR 164. ‘I don’t see how that gave you a lead. Looks innocent enough to me,’ remarked one of the guests. ‘Well,’ said the Professor, ‘that ad furnished the strongest link in my chain of evidence. I had information that Jack Carroll was infatuated with Stone’s wife. At the suggestion of his wife, Stone answered this ad and received a reply requesting him to call for a personal interview. That interview was with death! ‘Mrs. Stone, when questioned, said she and her husband had not been on particularly friendly terms recently and that the last she saw of him was when he left for White Plains to see about the position. ‘I called at the newspaper office and was informed that the ad had been inserted by Jonathan Gills, Pomeroy Hotel. They remembered it because Mr. Gills had telephoned asking if there were any replies to his ad. Despite the affirmative answer, they had never been called for. I found Jonathan Gills was unknown at the Pomeroy Hotel. ‘I learned from Mrs. Stone that her husband had answered the ad in long-hand and that he was left-handed and a very poor penman. ‘Pondering the matter, though puzzled at first, I finally hit upon the manner in which Stone had been led to his death,’ concluded Fordney. How do _you_ think it was done? 66 _A Rum Regatta_ ‘Here’s a story that should amuse you, Jean,’ said Professor Fordney to his efficient and charming secretary. He laughed heartily as he handed her a letter from his old friend, George Collins, government investigator in Florida. Jean read the following: An old sailor sitting on the sands of Nassau mending his fishing net was approached by three rum-runners shortly after the break of dawn. They came seeking his advice in connection with a wager they had made among themselves the night before. The three of them, having sampled too freely of the liquor they were to take the next day to Miami, had put up three thousand dollars as a prize for the owner of the last boat to reach Miami. The fact that their boss was in a hurry for the liquor had been completely forgotten. Sobered, they realized the ridiculousness of the wager but while anxious to reach Miami as quickly as possible, they all agreed it was not to be changed. The old sailor continued weaving the cords into his net with slow deliberation. In a few minutes, calling them to his side, he whispered exactly the same advice into the ear of each. A smile spread over his weather-beaten face and he chuckled as the three rum-runners raced to the boats and started for Miami at top speed. ‘It is amusing,’ laughed Jean, ‘but he forgot to say what the old sailor whispered!’ ‘That’s for you to figure out, young lady. I’ve never been a rum-runner, but I’ve got the answer.’ What advice did the old sailor whisper to the rum-runners? 67 _Who is the Heir?_ ‘As the Île de France slipped from her berth, Europe-bound, John Morgan, the brother of New York’s largest theatrical producer, waved good-bye to his family on the dock,’ said Professor Fordney. ‘Arriving in Paris a week later, he registered at the Hôtel Crillon. At two o’clock next morning, he called the office and demanded he be given another suite immediately, saying he didn’t like the view from his present rooms. This, despite the fact that he had occupied—in fact, insisted upon—this suite many times in the past. ‘Because of his prominence and wealth, he was accommodated at once. ‘Moving on to Berlin four days later, he registered at the Hotel Adlon. The manager, anxious to please a brother of the internationally known producer, greeted him personally. He afterward remarked how worried Mr. Morgan appeared at the time. ‘At two o’clock in the morning a repetition of the Paris occurrence took place. ‘From Berlin he went in turn to London, Copenhagen, Brussels, Vienna, Bucharest, and Sofia, spending exactly four days in each place. He then went to Teheran, Persia. He explained to the American Consul there that he had come to Persia to sample at first hand the celebrated wines of Shiraz, and also to continue his search for one Mirah Svari, a mystic he had met in New York, and for whom he had sought vainly all over Europe. ‘On the fourth day in Teheran, he was found dead of an overdose of hashish, in a squalid house in an unsavory quarter. ‘Receiving news of his death, his attorney in New York, acting on previous instructions, opened his will, in which he had left his entire fortune of five million dollars to the producer. ‘But, strange as it may seem, it was found John Morgan never had a brother. What a situation! ‘Under the circumstances, and according to law, who received the huge fortune?’ smiled Fordney to his dinner guests. 68 _The Professor Stops a Blunder_ At four o’clock Thursday afternoon, Louis Mundy unexpectedly received a telegram requesting him to return home immediately, as his brother was ill. At eight that evening, he alighted from the plane in Washington. He had not been in the city during the past two months. Hurrying to his suburban home, he found his brother greatly improved. At ten o’clock he set out on a hike through the country, returning at midnight. These facts were all verified. Between eleven and twelve o’clock that night, John Skidder was murdered, and the only thing missing from his house was a note for ten thousand dollars signed by Mundy. Skidder’s secretary said the note was habitually kept at the office and that she was very surprised when he took it home that evening. Mundy declared he saw or passed no one on his hike, but under severe questioning admitted having been near Skidder’s house shortly after eleven o’clock. A thorough investigation revealed that Skidder had no known enemies and no one, other than Mundy, had the slightest reason for wishing him dead. Mundy was consequently arrested. As he knew Skidder lived with only an old man servant (who was out until after twelve that night), the police believed he had gone unobserved to the house, demanded the note, and, when refused, had murdered Skidder. No one but Mundy could possibly profit by the disappearance of the note. As it was due in ten days and he was in no position to meet it, they anticipated little difficulty in obtaining a conviction due to the strong motive and weak alibi. Asked his opinion, Professor Fordney surprisingly said he DIDN’T believe any American jury would convict Mundy. He was right— Now, don’t argue! There’s only one answer. Don’t peek! Figure it out. 69 _The Perfect Crime_ Peter Johannes had one burning ambition—to commit a perfect crime. After much thinking and careful planning, he chose burglary for his experiment and a large brownstone mansion for the scene of his action. Learning its occupants had left town, he arrayed himself in a business suit of conservative cut, flung a light topcoat over his arm, picked up a Gladstone bag, covered with foreign labels, and set out. He had ascertained, of course, when the policeman patrolling that beat was farthest away. At such a time he drove up in his swanky sport roadster, swung jauntily to the sidewalk, skipped up the steps, and fitted a skeleton key into the lock, which yielded easily. So far so good, he thought. Inside, he adjusted a black mask to his eyes and silk gloves to his hands: the former for a bit of local color he couldn’t resist; the latter for more practical purposes. What a jolly thing this burglaring was! He quickly filled his Gladstone with silver and other valuables. Hurrying out, he removed his gloves after closing the door. ‘Done, and not a single clue left!’ he said to himself. As he was about to descend the steps, he saw out of the corner of his eye the policeman rounding the corner. Feigning disinterest, he quickly pushed the bell-button and stood there whistling. ‘Hey, you!’ shouted the policeman, now standing at the bottom of the steps. ‘What are you doin’ there? Them people ain’t home.’ ‘Howdy, Officer. How goes it?’ said our hero blithely as he turned to greet the bluecoat. ‘I know they’re not home; been trying to raise someone for five minutes. Annoying, too, after running out to see them. Oh, well,’ he continued, ‘I’ll be going along,’ as he unconcernedly picked up his bag. ‘You bet you will—right to the hoosegow,’ bellowed the guardian of the peace. ‘Your story I might have believed, but.... Come on, now, I’m takin’ you down.’ Alas for the perfect crime! ‘What caused our hero’s arrest?’ asked Professor Fordney of his class. 70