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Page 6
"They say"--Miss Graumann's voice quavered--"they say that Albert
was the last person known to have been in Siders' room; they say that
it was his revolver, found in the room. That is the dreadful part
of it--it was his revolver. He acknowledges it, but he did not
know, until the police showed it to him, that the weapon was not in
its usual place in his study. They tell me that everything speaks
for his guilt, but I cannot believe it--I cannot. He says he is
innocent in spite of everything. I believe him. I brought him up,
sir; I was like his own mother to him. He never knew any other
mother. He never lied to me, not once, when he was a little boy,
and I don't believe he'd lie to me now, now that he's a man of
forty-five. He says he did not kill John Siders. Oh, I know, even
without his saying it, that he would not do such a thing."
"Can you tell us anything more about the murder itself?" questioned
Muller gently. "Is there any possibility of suicide? Or was there
a robbery?"
"They say it was no suicide, sir, and that there was a large sum of
money missing. But why should Albert take any one else's money?
He has money of his own, and he earns a good income besides--we
have all that we need. Oh, it is some dreadful mistake! There is
the newspaper account of the discovery of the body. Perhaps Mr.
Muller might like to read that." She pointed to a sheet of newspaper
on the desk. The commissioner handed it to Muller. It was an
evening paper, dated G--, September 24th, and it gave an elaborate
account, in provincial journalese, of the discovery that morning of
the body of John Siders, evidently murdered, in his lodgings. The
main facts to be gathered from the long-winded story were as follows:
John Siders had rented the rooms in which he met his death about
ten days before, paying a month's rent in advance. The lodgings
consisted of two rooms in a little house in a quiet street. It was
a street of simple two-story, one and two family dwellings, occupied
by artisans and small tradespeople. There were many open spaces,
gardens and vacant lots in the street. The house in which Siders
lodged belonged to a travelling salesman by the name of Winter. The
man was away from home a great deal, and his wife, with her child
and an old servant, lived in the lower part of the house, while the
rooms occupied by Siders were in the upper story. Siders lived
very quietly, going out frequently in the afternoon, but returning
early in the evening. He had said to his landlady that he had many
friends in G--. But during the time of his stay in the house he had
had but one caller, a gentleman who came on the evening of the 23rd
of September. The old maid had opened the door for him and showed
him to Mr. Siders' rooms. She described this visitor as having a
full black beard, and wearing a broad-brimmed grey felt hat. Nobody
saw the man go out, for the old maid, the only person in the house
at the time, had retired early. Mrs. Winter and her little girl
were spending the night with the former's mother in a distant part
of the city. The next morning the old servant, taking the lodger's
coffee up to him at the usual hour, found him dead on the floor of
his sitting-room, shot through the heart. The woman ran screaming
from the house and alarmed the neighbours. A policeman at the
corner heard the noise, and led the crowd up to the room where the
dead man lay. It was plain to be seen that this was not a case of
suicide. Everywhere were signs of a terrible struggle. The
furniture was overturned, the dressing-table and the cupboard were
open and their contents scattered on the floor, one of the window
curtains was torn into strips, as if the victim had been trying to
escape by way of the window, but had been dragged back into the
room by his murderer. An overturned ink bottle on the table had
spattered wide, and added to the general confusion. In the midst
of the disorder lay the body of the murdered man, now cold in the
rigour of death.
The police commissioner arrived soon, took possession of the rooms,
and made a thorough examination of the premises. A letter found
on the desk gave another proof, if such were needed, that this was
not a case of suicide. This letter was in the handwriting of the
dead man, and read as follows:
Dear Friend:
I appreciate greatly all the kindness shown me by yourself and your
good wife. I have been more successful than I thought possible in
overcoming the obstacles you know of. Therefore, I shall be very
glad to join you day after to-morrow, Sunday, in the proposed
excursion. I will call for you at 8 A.M.--the cab and the
champagne will be my share of the trip. We'll have a jolly day
and drink a glass or two to our plans for the future.
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