Minute Mysteries [Detectograms]
‘I had just stepped behind that screen near the door to wash my hands
when a man, gun in hand, entered the room and stood motionless for a few
seconds,’ said Hyde. ‘Apparently satisfied no one was here, he walked to
the desk over there by the window. As he rummaged through the papers in
the drawer, I hastily dialed headquarters, leaving the receiver off the
hook, trusting you would trace the call. I was afraid to talk because I
was unarmed and he looked like a desperate fellow.’
‘You say he took nothing but a valuable formula from your desk?’
inquired the Professor.
‘That’s all; he touched nothing else.’
‘Rather careless to leave such an important paper lying about like that,
wasn’t it?’
‘Well, I suppose so, though it was only a copy. I sold the original to
Schmitz yesterday for twenty thousand dollars and I intended to destroy
the duplicate tonight.’
‘Would that formula be valuable to anyone else?’
‘Yes, it would be worth twice as much to Schmitz’s competitors.’
‘Why didn’t you sell it to them in the first place, then?’
‘Schmitz financed me while I was perfecting the formula, so I thought it
only right to sell it to him, even though I could have got more for it
from the other firm.’
‘As this is such a small, bright room and you observed so much through
that crack in the screen,’ said Fordney sarcastically, ‘you should be
able to give us a _very_ good description of the intruder.’
‘Oh, I can do that,’ Hyde replied, with assurance. ‘He was a big fellow
about six feet tall and weighed around two hundred pounds. He had
jet-black hair, swarthy complexion, an unusually large nose, and a
vicious-looking mouth. As he left obviously unaware of my presence, I
noticed he had a big rip in the back of his blue coat.’
‘Well, Hyde, as part of your story is incredible, you can’t expect me to
believe any of it.’
Why did the Professor say this?
7
_Strangled_
‘Twenty-two days of this hot, dry spell,’ groaned Professor Fordney. ‘I
can’t remember a stretch like it.’
‘Tell us about the Greer case, Professor,’ urged the rocking-chair
brigade. ‘It’ll take your mind off the heat.’
‘Well, you know the salient facts. The body of Irene Greer, lying on the
railroad right-of-way, was found half a mile from here by a fishing
party at 6 A.M. day before yesterday. It could be seen that she was a
beautiful girl despite the tousled hair matted with mud and a nasty
bruise on her cheek. Her flaming red dress was torn and dirty. She had
on shoes, but no stockings. Incidentally, her clothes were of the finest
quality. Her body indicated that she had received a terrific beating,
poor girl.
‘From appearances she had been placed on the track with the expectation
that she would be struck by a train and identification made impossible.
No doubt she was unconscious when this was done, but she must have
revived temporarily and crawled to the gravel right-of-way before a
train came along. There she died.
‘A peculiar circumstance is that, while her body was bruised and
twisted, there were no marks on her throat to indicate strangulation,
yet Dr. Bridewell says that was the cause of death.
‘She was found in a desolate spot. Oh, yes, she was probably strangled
with a scarf which, employed in a certain manner, would leave no outward
trace.
‘Now you folks should know how I learned Irene Greer was attacked
elsewhere and then brought to the vicinity where she was found,’ smiled
the Professor.
Do you?
8
_Death in the Office_
When Professor Fordney reached Gifford’s office, he found a policeman
already there.
‘Gifford’s dead,’ he was told. ‘What brings you here?’
‘He telephoned me a few minutes ago; said he had been shot; then I had a
hard time understanding him. This street is on your beat, isn’t it?’
‘Yes. I heard the shot when I was in Smith’s cigar store. It took me a
while to locate it. The door was locked and I had to break in.’
As they walked into an inner office, they saw Gifford’s body, a bullet
through the heart, lying in a pool of blood.
Fordney stooped to pick up a revolver.
‘It’s an easy jump to the ground,’ observed the policeman, who was
standing by an open window.
‘Did you know, sir,’ he added, ‘that Gifford has been troubled lately by
blackmailers?’
‘Yes. The last time I saw him, he told me he had been shot at a couple
of weeks ago.’
Fordney walked over to the door and found the lock was sprung, but the
key still in it.
‘I suppose,’ ventured the policeman, ‘that the blackmailers got him.
They must have locked the door from the inside when they entered, shot
him, and then jumped out the window.’
‘No,’ said Fordney, who was examining the key he had removed from the
lock. ‘There weren’t any murderers in here. Gifford committed suicide.’
Why was the Professor sure that it was suicide?
9
_They Usually Forget Something_
‘Here is a good illustration of the old bromide that the smartest
criminal leaves some clue in even the most carefully planned crime,’
mused Professor Fordney.
‘While in Colshire, a beautiful little English village, I was asked by
the local police to assist them in a rather puzzling affair.
‘Suspicion of a particularly brutal murder had been directed toward an
illiterate underworld character. He was accused of sending the following
note found in the murdered man’s pocket:
_sir john when i last seen you i sed i will kill you if the muney
ain’t here by mundy; all of it_
_yurs truly,_
_XX_
‘When Wellington, the Chief Constable, asked my opinion, I told him the
writer of the note, and therefore probably the murderer, was obviously
an educated man. After explaining why I was sure of that, he agreed with
me.
‘An odd sort of case. The murderer was found to be an extremely wealthy
American whose sister had married the murdered man’s brother.’
‘Well,’ laughed Bill Cargo to whom Fordney had been speaking. ‘It’s
getting too involved for me. I can’t figure it out.’
How had Fordney determined the American was an educated man?
10
_The Professor Gives a Lesson_
‘Cardoni came into Inspector Kelley’s office yesterday,’ said Fordney to
his Criminology Class.
‘“I want to speak to you alone, Chief,” he said, eyeing me with frank
suspicion.
‘“It’s all right. Go ahead,” said Kelley.
‘“I’ve got some information on the Curtis kidnapers. How much is it
worth?”
‘“That all depends. Let’s hear the story.”
‘“They’re in one of my old buildings, down on the East Side. Three men
and a woman. All you’ve got to do, Chief, is to take this, walk in an’
surprise ’em,” said our informer, tossing a Yale key on Kelley’s desk.
“They rented a room from me about a week ago.”
‘“Sounds much too easy, Cardoni. I want something more definite than
that. What makes you think they’re the kidnapers?”
‘“I heard them having an argument as I was doing some repair work in the
hall. One of the guys threatened to squeal if he didn’t get a bigger
cut. It sounded interestin’, so I peeked through the keyhole. They were
sittin’ at a table in the middle of the room on which there was a stack
of money.”
‘“Your story doesn’t yet show they had any connection with the Curtis
kidnaping,” Kelley said.
“NO? Well, last night I heard them mention ‘Curtis’ several times. And
that ain’t all,” continued Cardoni, with a triumphant air. “Here’s a
code message one of them must have dropped. Well, Chief, how much do I
get?”
“Get out!” hollered Kelley as he made a pass at Cardoni.’
Why was the informer treated so rudely?
11
_Upstairs and Down_
‘Let’s hear your story,’ said Inspector Kelley to Policeman Kirk, as
Fordney dropped into a comfortable chair at Headquarters.
‘The neighbors were worried because they hadn’t seen old lady Brill
about for a couple of days and asked me to investigate.
‘Getting no answer to my ring, I broke open the front door, ran
upstairs, and, not seeing her, ran down and through the hall, unlocked
the kitchen door, and found her on the floor, a bullet through her heart
and a gun beside her. The windows and the doors to the porch and cellar
were locked on the inside and nothing seemed to be disturbed.
‘Looked like suicide to me. However, I learned her nephew was at the
house yesterday about the time the doctor said she died, so I brought
him in,’ concluded Kirk.
‘Why did you run upstairs before examining the lower floor?’ asked
Kelley.
‘Thought I heard a noise up there, sir,’ replied the policeman.
‘Any finger-prints on the gun?’ inquired Fordney.
‘Just those of the old lady,’ answered Kelley.
‘I have a key to the house,’ interrupted the nephew. ‘I went in
yesterday, called to her, but she didn’t answer, so I thought she’d gone
out.’
‘Did you go upstairs?’ asked the Professor.
‘Yes, I ran up there, calling her name, but came right down again and
left immediately.’
‘Well, Kelley, of course it’s murder—as you probably know. I suppose
you’ll hold this fellow?’
‘I certainly intend to,’ replied the Inspector.
How did Fordney know the old lady had been murdered?
12
_Class Day_
‘Baklioff, in person, combined with “Grand Hotel,” had packed the
Paramount,’ said the Professor. ‘Every seat was occupied and
standing-room was at a premium. What an opening it was!’ he continued.
‘As the picture neared its end and the orchestra, under the magnificent
leadership of Baklioff, reached the climax of Mascagni’s “Cavalleria
Rusticana,” a shot rang out.
‘Inspector Kelley who accompanied me, was immediately on his feet
bellowing, “Lights!” They were quickly turned on and the picture
stopped. Warning everyone to keep his seat, we started for the back of
the theater, when a man’s body slumped out of a seat and fell almost at
our feet. A hurried examination disclosed he had been shot in the back
of the head and that he was an extremely tall man.
‘Leaving Kelley to look after things, I hurried to the operator’s booth.
When almost there, I heard another shot and knew I was too late.
Entering the small compartment, hung under the balcony, I found the
operator with a bullet through his temple and a smoking revolver by his
side.
‘“Not much to this,” I remarked, as Kelley joined me.
‘“I wonder if he got the right man,” commented the Inspector. “I don’t
understand how he could have made such a splendid shot under the
circumstances. Amazing!”’
‘Was the dead man sitting in an aisle seat?’ interrupted one of the
class.
‘Yes,’ replied Fordney.
‘Gee, that’s a good one, Professor, but I know now the one thing wrong
with your story,’ said the student.
Do you?
13
_A Hot Pursuit_
‘Hello, Smith,’ said Professor Fordney as he opened the door. ‘What’s
up?’
‘Uncle Fred’s house has been robbed. He had some negotiable bonds in the
library safe and told me to stick close to home until he returned from
New York.’
‘Were they stolen?’ interrogated Fordney.
‘I’m afraid so. I was up in my bedroom about twenty minutes ago when I
heard a noise. I rushed downstairs just in time to see a man dash out of
the library. I ran after him and, as I passed the door, I noticed the
safe was open, so I suppose he got the bonds. He jumped into a waiting