The Mystery of the Yellow Room
was there?—Because he left his tracks in the room? Good! But may he not
have been there _before_ the room was locked. Nay, he _must_ have been
there before! Let us look into the matter of these traces and see if
they do not point to my conclusion.
“After the publication of the article in the ‘Matin’ and my
conversation with the examining magistrate on the journey from Paris
to Epinay-sur-Orge, I was certain that The Yellow Room had been
hermetically sealed, so to speak, and that consequently the murderer
had escaped before Mademoiselle Stangerson had gone into her chamber at
midnight.
“At the time I was much puzzled. Mademoiselle Stangerson could not
have been her own murderer, since the evidences pointed to some other
person. The assassin, then, had come _before_. If that were so, how
was it that Mademoiselle had been attacked _after_? or rather, that
she appeared to have been attacked after? It was necessary for me to
reconstruct the occurrence and make of it two phases—each separated
from the other, in time, by the space of several hours. One phase
in which Mademoiselle Stangerson had really been attacked—the other
phase in which those who heard her cries _thought_ she was being
attacked. I had not then examined The Yellow Room. What were the marks
on Mademoiselle Stangerson? There were marks of strangulation and
the wound from a hard blow on the temple. The marks of strangulation
did not interest me much; they might have been made _before_, and
Mademoiselle Stangerson could have concealed them by a collarette, or
any similar article of apparel. I had to suppose this the moment I was
compelled to reconstruct the occurrence by two phases. Mademoiselle
Stangerson had, no doubt, her own reasons for so doing, since she
had told her father nothing of it, and had made it understood to the
examining magistrate that the attack had taken place in the night,
during the second phase. She was forced to say that, otherwise her
father would have questioned her as to her reason for having said
nothing about it.
“But I could not explain the blow on the temple. I understood it even
less when I learned that the mutton-bone had been found in her room.
She could not hide the fact that she had been struck on the head, and
yet that wound appeared evidently to have been inflicted during the
first phase, since it required the presence of the murderer! I thought
Mademoiselle Stangerson had hidden the wound by arranging her hair in
bands on her forehead.
“As to the mark of the hand on the wall, that had evidently been
made during the first phase—when the murderer was really there. All
the traces of his presence had naturally been left during the first
phase; the mutton-bone, the black footprints, the Basque cap, the
handkerchief, the blood on the wall, on the door, and on the floor.
If those traces were still all there, they showed that Mademoiselle
Stangerson—who desired that nothing should be known—had not yet had
time to clear them away. This led me to the conclusion that the two
phases had taken place one shortly after the other. She had not had the
opportunity, after leaving her room and going back to the laboratory
to her father, to get back again to her room and put it in order. Her
father was all the time with her, working. So that after the first
phase she did not re-enter her chamber till midnight. Daddy Jacques
was there at ten o’clock, as he was every night; but he went in merely
to close the blinds and light the night-light. Owing to her disturbed
state of mind she had forgotten that Daddy Jacques would go into her
room and had begged him not to trouble himself. All this was set forth
in the article in the ‘Matin.’ Daddy Jacques did go, however, and, in
the dim light of the room, saw nothing.
“Mademoiselle Stangerson must have lived some anxious moments while
Daddy Jacques was absent; but I think she was not aware that so many
evidences had been left. After she had been attacked she had only
time to hide the traces of the man’s fingers on her neck and to
hurry to the laboratory. Had she known of the bone, the cap, and the
handkerchief, she would have made away with them after she had gone
back to her chamber at midnight. She did not see them, and undressed by
the uncertain glimmer of the night light. She went to bed, worn-out by
anxiety and fear—a fear that had made her remain in the laboratory as
late as possible.
“My reasoning had thus brought me to the second phase of the tragedy,
when Mademoiselle Stangerson was _alone_ in the room. I had now to
explain the revolver shots fired during the second phase. Cries of
‘Help!—Murder!’ had been heard. How to explain these? As to the cries,
I was in no difficulty; since she was alone in her room these could
result from nightmare only. My explanation of the struggle and noise
that were heard is simply that in her nightmare she was haunted by the
terrible experience she had passed through in the afternoon. In her
dream she sees the murderer about to spring upon her and she cries,
‘Help! Murder!’ Her hand wildly seeks the revolver she had placed
within her reach on the night-table by the side of her bed, but her
hand, striking the table, overturns it, and the revolver, falling to
the floor, discharges itself, the bullet lodging in the ceiling. I knew
from the first that the bullet in the ceiling must have resulted from
an accident. Its very position suggested an accident to my mind, and
so fell in with my theory of a nightmare. I no longer doubted that the
attack had taken place before Mademoiselle had retired for the night.
After wakening from her frightful dream and crying aloud for help, she
had fainted.
“My theory, based on the evidence of the shots that were heard at
midnight, demanded two shots—one which wounded the murderer at the time
of his attack, and one fired at the time of the nightmare. The evidence
given by the Berniers before the examining magistrate was to the effect
that only one shot had been heard. Monsieur Stangerson testified to
hearing a dull sound first followed by a sharp ringing sound. The
dull sound I explained by the falling of the marble-topped table; the
ringing sound was the shot from the revolver. I was now convinced I
was right. The shot that had wounded the hand of the murderer and had
caused it to bleed so that he left the bloody imprint on the wall
was fired by Mademoiselle in self-defence, before the second phase,
when she had been really attacked. The shot in the ceiling which the
Berniers heard was the accidental shot during the nightmare.
“I had now to explain the wound on the temple. It was not severe enough
to have been made by means of the mutton-bone, and Mademoiselle had not
attempted to hide it. It must have been made during the second phase.
It was to find this out that I went to The Yellow Room, and I obtained
my answer there.”
Rouletabille drew a piece of white folded paper from his pocket, and
drew out of it an almost invisible object which he held between his
thumb and forefinger.
“This, Monsieur President,” he said, “is a hair—a blond hair stained
with blood;—it is a hair from the head of Mademoiselle Stangerson. I
found it sticking to one of the corners of the overturned table. The
corner of the table was itself stained with blood—a tiny stain—hardly
visible; but it told me that, on rising from her bed, Mademoiselle
Stangerson had fallen heavily and had struck her head on the corner of
its marble top.
“I had still to learn, in addition to the name of the assassin, which
I did later, the time of the original attack. I learned this from
the examination of Mademoiselle Stangerson and her father, though
the answers given by the former were well calculated to deceive the
examining magistrate. Mademoiselle Stangerson had stated very minutely
how she had spent the whole of her time that day. We established
the fact that the murderer had introduced himself into the pavilion
between five and six o’clock. At a quarter past six the professor and
his daughter had resumed their work. At five the professor had been
with his daughter, and since the attack took place in the professor’s
absence from his daughter, I had to find out just when he left her.
The professor had stated that at the time when he and his daughter
were about to re-enter the laboratory he was met by the keeper and
held in conversation about the cutting of some wood and the poachers.
Mademoiselle Stangerson was not with him then since the professor said:
‘I left the keeper and rejoined my daughter who was at work in the
laboratory.’
“It was during that short interval of time that the tragedy took
place. That is certain. In my mind’s eye I saw Mademoiselle Stangerson
re-enter the pavilion, go to her room to take off her hat, and find
herself faced by the murderer. He had been in the pavilion for some
time waiting for her. He had arranged to pass the whole night there.
He had taken off Daddy Jacques’s boots; he had removed the papers from
the cabinet; and had then slipped under the bed. Finding the time long,
he had risen, gone again into the laboratory, then into the vestibule,
looked into the garden, and had seen, coming towards the pavilion,
Mademoiselle Stangerson—alone. He would never have dared to attack her
at that hour, if he had not found her alone. His mind was made up.
He would be more at ease alone with Mademoiselle Stangerson in the
pavilion, than he would have been in the middle of the night, with
Daddy Jacques sleeping in the attic. So he shut the vestibule window.
That explains why neither Monsieur Stangerson, nor the keeper, who were
at some distance from the pavilion, had heard the revolver shot.
“Then he went back to The Yellow Room. Mademoiselle Stangerson came
in. What passed must have taken place very quickly. Mademoiselle tried
to call for help; but the man had seized her by the throat. Her hand
had sought and grasped the revolver which she had been keeping in the
drawer of her night-table, since she had come to fear the threats of
her pursuer. The murderer was about to strike her on the head with the
mutton-bone—a terrible weapon in the hands of a Larsan or Ballmeyer;
but she fired in time, and the shot wounded the hand that held the
weapon. The bone fell to the floor covered with the blood of the
murderer, who staggered, clutched at the wall for support—imprinting on
it the red marks—and, fearing another bullet, fled.
“She saw him pass through the laboratory, and listened. He was long at
the window. At length he jumped from it. She flew to it and shut it.
The danger past, all her thoughts were of her father. Had he either
seen or heard? At any cost to herself she must keep this from him. Thus
when Monsieur Stangerson returned, he found the door of The Yellow Room
closed, and his daughter in the laboratory, bending over her desk, at
work!”
Turning towards Monsieur Darzac, Rouletabille cried:—
“You know the truth! Tell us, then, if that is not how things happened.”
“I don’t know anything about it,” replied Monsieur Darzac.
“I admire you for your silence,” said Rouletabille, “but if
Mademoiselle Stangerson knew of your danger, she would release you from
your oath. She would beg of you to tell all she has confided to you.
She would be here to defend you!”
Monsieur Darzac made no movement, nor uttered a word. He looked at
Rouletabille sadly.
“However,” said the young reporter, “since Mademoiselle is not here,
I must do it myself. But, believe me, Monsieur Darzac, the only means
to save Mademoiselle Stangerson and restore her to her reason, is to
secure your acquittal.”
“What is this secret motive that compels Mademoiselle Stangerson to
hide her knowledge from her father?” asked the President.
“That, Monsieur, I do not know,” said Rouletabille. “It is no business
of mine.”