The Greatest Works of S. S. Van Dine (Illustrated Edition). S.S. Van Dine

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СКАЧАТЬ or child that’s passed in or out of these gates since I relieved Cameron at eight o’clock this morning.”

      “And Cameron’s report?”

      “Nobody all night.”

      “Well, some one got in some way,” growled Heath. “Run along the west wall there and tell Donnelly to come here pronto.”

      Santos disappeared through the gate, and a moment later we could see him hurrying through the side yard toward the garage. In a few minutes Donnelly—the man set to watch the postern gate—came hurrying up.

      “Who got in the back way this morning?” barked Heath.

      “Nobody, Sergeant. The cook went marketing about ten o’clock, and two regular deliverymen left packages. That’s every one who’s been through the rear gate since yesterday.”

      “Is that so!” Heath was viciously sarcastic.

      “I’m telling you——”

      “Oh, all right, all right.” The Sergeant turned to Burke. “You get up on this wall and make the rounds. See if you can find where any one has climbed over.—And you, Snitkin, look over the yard for footprints. When you guys finish, report to me. I’m going inside.”

      We went up the front walk, which had been swept clean, and Sproot admitted us to the house. His face was as blank as ever, and he took our coats with his usual obsequious formality.

      “You’d better go to your room now, Miss Greene,” said Markham, placing his hand kindly on Ada’s arm. “Lie down, and try to get a little rest. You look tired. I’ll be in to see you before I go.”

      The girl obeyed submissively without a word.

      “And you, Sproot,” he ordered; “come in the living-room.”

      The old butler followed us and stood humbly before the centre-table, where Markham seated himself.

      “Now, let’s hear your story.”

      Sproot cleared his throat and stared out of the window.

      “There’s very little to tell, sir. I was in the butler’s pantry, polishing the glassware, when I heard the shot——”

      “Go back a little further,” interrupted Markham. “I understand you made a trip to Third Avenue at nine this morning.”

      “Yes, sir. Miss Sibella bought a Pomeranian yesterday, and she asked me to get some dog-biscuits after breakfast.”

      “Who called at the house this morning?”

      “No one, sir—that is, no one but Doctor Von Blon.”

      “All right. Now tell us everything that happened.”

      “Nothing happened, sir—nothing unusual, that is—until poor Mr. Rex was shot. Miss Ada went out a few minutes after Doctor Von Blon arrived; and a little past eleven o’clock you telephoned to Mr. Rex. Then shortly afterward you telephoned a second time to Mr. Rex; and I returned to the pantry. I had only been there a few minutes when I heard the shot——”

      “What time would you say that was?”

      “About twenty minutes after eleven, sir.”

      “Then what?”

      “I dried my hands on my apron and stepped into the dining-room to listen. I was not quite sure that the shot had been fired inside the house, but I thought I’d better investigate. So I went up-stairs and, as Mr. Rex’s door was open, I looked in his room first. There I saw the poor young man lying on the floor with the blood running from a small wound in his forehead. I called Doctor Von Blon——”

      “Where was the doctor?” Vance put the question.

      Sproot hesitated, and appeared to think.

      “He was up-stairs, sir; and he came at once——”

      “Oh—up-stairs! Roaming about vaguely, I presume—a little here, a little there, what?” Vance’s eyes bored into the butler. “Come, come, Sproot. Where was the doctor?”

      “I think, sir, he was in Miss Sibella’s room.”

      “Cogito, cogito. . . . Well, drum your encephalon a bit and try to reach a conclusion. From what sector of space did the corporeal body of Doctor Von Blon emerge after you had called him?”

      “The fact is, sir, he came out of Miss Sibella’s door.”

      “Well, well. Fancy that! And, such being the case, one might conclude—without too great a curfuffling of one’s brains—that, preceding his issuing from that particular door, he was actually in Miss Sibella’s room?”

      “I suppose so, sir.”

      “Dash it all, Sproot! You know deuced well he was there.”

      “Well—yes, sir.”

      “And now suppose you continue with your odyssey.”

      “It was more like the Iliad, if I may say so. More tragic-like, if you understand what I mean; although Mr. Rex was not exactly a Hector. However that may be, sir, Doctor Von Blon came immediately——”

      “He had not heard the shot, then?”

      “Apparently not, for he seemed very much startled when he saw Mr. Rex. And Miss Sibella, who followed him into Mr. Rex’s room, was startled, too.”

      “Did they make any comment?”

      “As to that I couldn’t say. I came down-stairs at once and telephoned to Mr. Markham.”

      As he spoke Ada appeared at the archway, her eyes wide.

      “Some one’s been in my room,” she announced, in a frightened voice. “The French doors to the balcony were partly open when I went up-stairs just now, and there were dirty snow-tracks across the floor. . . . Oh, what does it mean? Do you think——?”

      Markham had jerked himself forward.

      “You left the French doors shut when you went out?”

      “Yes—of course,” she answered. “I rarely open them in winter.”

      “And were they locked?”

      “I’m not sure, but I think so. They must have been locked—though how could any one have got in unless I’d forgotten to turn the key?”

      Heath had risen and stood listening to the girl’s story with grim bewilderment.

      “Probably the bird with those galoshes again,” he mumbled. “I’ll get Jerym himself up here this time.”

      Markham nodded and turned back to Ada.

      “Thank you for telling us, Miss Greene. Suppose you go to some other room and wait for us. We want СКАЧАТЬ