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Page 60
"I have now told you all I have learned, or rather all that is
sufficiently definite to communicate--it is not much, yet it is a
clue and may serve to give our hope a new lease of life. What do
you think of it, Miss Darrow?"
"I think what you have learned," Gwen replied, "will be of the
utmost importance. You have now something definite to guide you.
I am most fortunate in having the services of such a detective,
--indeed, I am at a loss to know how to thank you for all you have
done,--for all you are doing, I--"
"My dear Miss Darrow," Maitland interrupted, "I need no thanks. Be
assured I am selfish in all I do. It is a pleasure to me, therefore
I do it. You see I deserve no credit. If I am able to free you
from the danger of sacrificing yourself, I shall be more than
repaid."
Gwen made no reply, but I, sitting as I did close beside her, saw
the moisture gather between her drooping lids. Maitland took his
leave almost immediately, having, he said, a long evening's work
before him; while Gwen, Alice, and I discussed the news he had
brought us, until far into the night. I did not see him the next
day, which was Tuesday, and I believe not on Wednesday. It was
Thursday afternoon, if I do not mistake, that he sent me a note
asking me to call on him at his office. I went at once, thinking
it might be something very important. I found him alone and
waiting for me.
"I wanted," he began as soon as I was seated, "to talk this matter
over with you. You see the great difficulty which besets me in this
case is that nearly all our evidence, while it is of a nature to
enable us to convict our man once we have him, is yet of almost no
assistance to us in finding him. What do we know of him up to date;
or at least of what do we feel reasonably assured? Let us see.
John Darrow was poisoned in some mysterious way by a man who was
stationed just outside the partly opened window. The weapon, or
whatever was used as such, was taken away by the murderer. Nothing
in the nature of a projectile could have been employed, since the
wound was upon a part of the victim's throat known to have been
turned away from the window and to have been completely shielded
upon that side by the high and massive back of the chair in which
the victim sat.
"He was fully eight feet from the casement, so that the assassin
could not have reached in and struck him. There were no footprints
by the window, as the assassin had strapped small boards upon his
feet. It is most likely, therefore, that he has some peculiarity
about his feet which he thought best to conceal. He is about five
feet five inches tall, weighs about one hundred and thirty-five
pounds, and steps three or four inches longer when the right foot
is thrown forward than he does when the left foot leads. We have a
cast of the assassin's hand showing unmistakable evidence of the
habit of biting the nails, with the exception of that of the little
finger, which nail, by the way, is abnormally long, and could only
have been spared for some special reason. The murderer is most
likely a foreigner. His handwriting would indicate this even if we
did not know, from the books he read, how conversant he is with at
least one foreign tongue. Again, he has some decided interest in
the subject of cancers and, perhaps, some interest in legerdemain,
if we may judge from his perusal of Robert Houdin's book.
"There are one or two other things I have learned, but this, so far
as any present effect is concerned, is about all we know, and it
doesn't seem to make the conduct of our search a very easy matter.
We have clearly to deal with a man who is possessed not merely of
low criminal cunning, but, I have reason to believe, with one who
has education and culture, and, if anything can be judged from
handwriting, rare strength of character as well. If we could only
find some motive! No one but a maniac would do such a deed without
a motive, yet we can't find one. A maniac! By Jove! I hadn't
thought of that. What do you think of the idea? 'Though this be
madness, yet there is method in't,' eh?"
I told him that the maniac theory did not appeal to me very strongly.
"Madness, to be sure, is often exceedingly cunning," I said, "but
it is hardly capable of such sustained masterfulness as our criminal
has evinced."
"Look here, Doc," Maitland said, breaking out suddenly, "I've an
idea. Might not this fellow's interest in cancers be due to his
having one himself? Suppose you make a canvass of the specialists
on cancer in Boston and vicinity, and see if any of them remember
being consulted by a patient answering the description with which I
will provide you. In addition to this I will insert an ad in the
papers calling attention to a new method for the cure of cancer,
and asking all interested to call at your office for further
particulars. The plan does not promise much, still it may bring
him. What do you say?"
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