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Page 5
"I think he is, sir. I saw him come in not long ago."
"Ask him to come up to this room. Say I would like to speak to him."
The attendant went out.
"I have sent for one of the best men on our force, Madam," continued
the commissioner, turning back to the pathetic little figure in the
chair. "We will go into this matter a little more in detail and see
if it is possible for us to interfere with the work of the local,
authorities in G--."
The little old lady gave her eyes a last hasty dab with a dainty
handkerchief and raised her head again, fighting for self-control.
She was a quaint little figure, with soft grey hair drawn back
smoothly from a gentle-featured face in which each wrinkle seemed
the seal of some loving thought for others. Her bonnet and gown
were of excellent material in delicate soft colours, but cut in the
style of an earlier decade. The capable lines of her thin little
hands showed through the fabric of her grey gloves. Her whole
attitude bore the impress of one who had adventured far beyond the
customary routine of her home circle, adventured out into the world
in fear and trembling, impelled by the stress of a great love.
A knock was heard at the door, and a small, slight man, with a kind,
smooth-shaven face, entered at the commissioner's call. "You sent
for me, sir?" he asked.
"Yes, Muller, there is a matter here in which I need your advice,
your assistance, perhaps. This is Detective Muller, Miss--" (the
commissioner picked up the card on his desk) "Miss Graumann. If
you will tell us now, more in detail, all that you can tell us about
this case, we may be able to help you."
"Oh, if you would," murmured Miss Graumann, with something more of
hope in her voice. The expression of sympathetic interest on the
face of the newcomer had already won her confidence for him. Her
slight figure straightened up in the chair, and the two men sat down
opposite her, prepared to listen to her story.
"I will tell you all I know and understand about this matter,
gentlemen," she began. "My name is Babette Graumann, and I live
with my nephew, Albert Graumann, engineering expert, in the village
of Grunau, which is not far from the city of G--. My nephew Albert,
the dearest, truest--" sobs threatened to overcome her again, but
she mastered them bravely. "Albert is now in prison, accused of
the murder of his friend, John Siders, in the latter's lodgings
in G--."
"Yes, that is the gist of what you have already told me," said the
commissioner. "Muller, Miss Graumann believes her nephew innocent,
contrary to the opinion of the local authorities in G--. She has
come to ask for some one from here who could ferret out the truth
of this matter. You are free now, and if we find that it can be
done without offending the local authorities--"
"Who is the commissioner in charge of the case in G--?" asked Muller.
"Commissioner Lange is his name, I believe," replied Miss Graumann.
"H'm!" Muller and the commissioner exchanged glances.
"I think we can venture to hear more of this," said the commissioner,
as if in answer to their unspoken thought. "Can you give us the
details now, Madam? Who is, or rather who was, this John Siders?"
"John Siders came to our village a little over a year ago," continued
Miss Graumann. "He came from Chicago; he told us, although he was
evidently a German by birth. He bought a nice little piece of
property, not far from our home, and settled down there. He was a
quiet man and made few friends, but he seemed to take to Albert and
came to see us frequently. Albert had spent some years in America,
in Chicago, and Siders liked to talk to him about things and people
there. But one day Siders suddenly sold his property and moved to G--.
Two weeks later he was found dead in his lodgings in the city,
murdered, and now--now they have accused Albert of the crime."
"On what grounds?--oh, I beg your pardon, sir; I did not mean--"
"That's all right, Muller," said the commissioner. "As you may
have to undertake the case, you might as well begin to do the
questioning now."
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