The Darrow Enigma - Melvin L. Severy (books for 7th graders .txt) 📗
- Author: Melvin L. Severy
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Mr. Darrow’s physician will testify that Mr. Darrow was confined
to his bed from the 25th day of February to the 18th day of March,
and that he visited him during that time at least once, and oftener
twice, every day.
“Again; M. Latour asserts that he never saw M. Godin till the day
of his arrest, and M. Godin asserts that he never entered M. Latour’s
rooms until that day. I have a photograph and here a phonographic
record. The picture shows M. Latour’s rooms with that gentleman and
M. Godin sitting at a table and evidently engaged in earnest
conversation. This cylinder is a record of a very interesting
portion of that conversation - M. Godin will please not leave the
room!”
This last was said as M. Godin started toward the door. The officer
to whom Jenkins had recently spoken laid his hand upon the detective
and detained him. “We may need M. Godin,” Maitland continued, “to
explain things to us.
“I invite your attention to the fact that M. Godin has testified
that he was assisted in his search for Mr. Darrow’s murderer by
certain library slips which he saw M. Latour make out in two
different names. He has also testified that he did not know even
the names of any of the books procured on these slips, and that
one of them, entitled ‘Poisons, Their Effects and Detection,’ he
not only never read, but never even heard of. I shall show you
that all of these books were procured with M. Godin’s knowledge,
and that most of them were read by him. I shall prove to you
beyond a doubt that he has not only heard of this particular work
on poisons, but that he has read it and placed his unmistakable
signature on page 469 thereof beside the identical paragraph which
suggested to Mr. Darrow’s murderer the manner of his assassination!”
M. Godin started as if he had been stabbed, but quickly regained
his self-control as Maitland continued: “Here is the volume in
question. You will please note the thumbmark in the margin of page
469. There is but one thumb in the world that could have made that
mark, and that is the thumb you have seen register itself upon this
letter. It is also the thumb that made this paint smutch upon this
slip of glass.”
All eyes were turned upon M. Godin. He was very pale, yet his jaw
was firmly set and something akin to a defiant smile played about
his handsome mouth. To say that the audience was amazed is to convey
no adequate idea of their real condition. We felt prepared for
anything. I almost feared lest some sudden turn in the case might
cast suspicion upon myself, or even Maitland. Without apparently
noticing M. Godin’s discomfiture, George continued:
“M. Godin has testified that he sometimes plays cards, but only for
a small stake - just enough, he says, to make it interesting. I
shall show you that he is a professional gambler as well as a
detective.
“The morning after the murder was committed I made a most careful
examination of the premises, particularly of the grounds near the
eastern window. As the result of my observations, I informed Miss
Darrow that I had reason to believe that her father had been murdered
by a person who had some good motive for concealing his footprints,
and who also had a halting gait. The weight of this person I was
able to estimate at not far from one hundred and thirty-five pounds,
and his height as about five feet and five inches. I also stated it
as my opinion that the person who did the deed had the habit of
biting his finger nails, and a particular reason for sparing the
nail of the little finger and permitting it to grow to an abnormal
length. This was not guesswork on my part, for in the soft soil
beneath the eastern window I found a perfect impression of a closed
hand. Here is the cast of that hand. Look well at it. Notice the
wart upon the upper joint of the thumb, and the crook in the third
finger where it has evidently been broken. M. Godin says he never
entered the yard of the Darrow estate, except on the night of the
murder in company with Messrs. Osborne and Allen, and that then he
merely passed up and down the front walk on his way to and from the
house, yet the paint-mark on this slip of glass was made by his
thumb, and the glass itself was cut by me from the eastern window
of the Darrow house - the window through which the murder was
committed. This plaster cast was taken from an impression in the
soil beneath the same window on the morning after the murder. The
hand is the hand of M. Godin. You will note that one of this
gentleman’s feet is deformed and that he habitually halts in his
walk.”
We all glanced at M. Godin to verify these assertions, but that
gentleman folded his arms in a way to conceal his hands and thrust
his feet out of sight beneath the chair in front of him, while he
smiled at us with the utmost apparent good nature. He would be
game to the last, there was no doubt of that.
Maitland recalled our attention by saying:
“Officer, you will please arrest M. Godin!”
An excited whisper was heard from every corner, and many were the
half-audible comments that were broken off by the imperative fall
of the crier’s gavel. So tense had been the strain that it was some
time before complete order could be restored. When it was again
quiet Maitland continued:
“Your Honour and Gentlemen of the Jury: We will rest our case here
for to-day. To-morrow, or rather on Monday, we shall show the
strange influence which M. Godin exercised over M. Latour, as well
as M. Latour’s reasons for his confession. We shall endeavour to
make clear to you how M. Latour was actually led to believe he had
murdered John Darrow, and how he was bribed to confess a crime=20
committed by another. Of the hypnotic power of M. Godin over M.
Latour I have indisputable proof, though we shall see that M. Godin
by no means relied wholly upon this power. We shall show you also
that sufficient time elapsed to enable M. Godin, by great skill
and celerity, to make away with the evidences of his guilt in time
to enable him to be present with Messrs. Osborne and Allen at the
examination. In short, we shall unravel before you a crime which,
for cleverness of conception and adroitness of execution, has never
been equalled in the history of this community.”
Maitland having thus concluded his remarks by dropping into a
courteous plural in deference to Mr. Jenkins, the court adjourned
until Monday, and I left Gwen in Maitland’s charge while I hurried
home, fearful lest I should not be the first to bring to Jeannette
the glad news of her father’s innocence, for I had not the slightest
doubt of Maitland’s ability to prove conclusively all he had
undertaken.
I need not describe to you my interview with Jeannette. There are
things concerning it which, even at this late day, when their
roseate hue glows but dimly in the blue retrospect of the past, - it
would seem sacrilege for me to mention to another. Believe me, I am
perfectly aware of your inquisitive nature, and I know that this
omission may nettle you. Charge it all up, then, to the perversity
of a bachelor in the throes of his first, last, and only love
experience. You must see that such things cannot be conveyed to
another with anything like their real significance. Were I to say
I was carried beyond myself by her protestations of gratitude until,
in a delirium of joy, I seized her in my arms and covered her with
kisses, do you for a moment fancy you could appreciate my feelings?
Do you imagine that the little tingle of sympathy which you might
experience were I to say that, instead of pushing me from her, I
felt her clasp tighten about me, - would tell you anything of the
great torrent of hot blood that deluged my heart as she lay there
in my arms, quivering ecstatically at every kiss? No! a thousand
times no! Therefore have I thought best to say nothing about it.
Our love can keep its own secrets. - But alas! this was long ago,
and as I sit here alone writing this to you, I cannot but wonder,
with a heavy sense of ever-present longing, where on this great
earth Jeannette - ‘my Jeannette,’ I have learned to call her - is
now. You see a bachelor’s love-affair is a serious thing, and years
cannot always efface it. But to return to the past:
Jeannette, I think, was not more pleased than Gwen at the turn
affairs had taken. Indeed, so exuberant was Gwen in her quiet way
that I marvelled much at the change in her, so much, indeed, that
finally I determined to question Alice about it.
“I can understand,” I said to her, “why Gwen, on account of her
sympathy and love for Jeannette, should be glad that M. Latour is
likely to be acquitted. I can also appreciate the distaste she may
have felt at the prospect of having to deal with M. Godin under the
terms of her father’s will; but even both of these considerations
seem to me insufficient to account for her present almost ecstatic
condition. There is an immediateness to her joy which could hardly
result from mere release from a future disagreeable possibility.
How do you account for it, sis?” Alice’s answer was somewhat
enigmatical and didn’t give me the information I sought. “Ned,”
she replied,” I’ll pay for the tickets to the first circus that
comes here, just to see if you can find the trunks on the elephants.”
Do my best, I couldn’t make her enlighten me any further, for, to
every question, she replied with a most provoking laugh.
Maitland called and spent most of the next day, which was Sunday,
with us, and we all talked matters over. He did not seem either
to share or understand Gwen’s exuberance of spirits, albeit one
could easily observe that he had a measure of that satisfaction
which always comes from success. More than once I saw him glance
questioningly at Gwen with a look which said plainly enough: “What
is the meaning of this remarkable change? Why should it so matter
to her whether M. Latour’s or M. Godin’s death avenges her father’s
murder?” When he left us at night I could see he had not answered
that question to his own satisfaction.
The Devil throws double sixes when he turns genius heliward.
The next morning after the events last narrated I was utterly
dumfounded by an article which met my gaze the instant I took up
my paper. It was several moments before I sufficiently recovered
my faculties to read it aloud to Gwen, Alice, and Jeannette, all
of whom had noticed my excitement, and were waiting with such
patience as they could command. I read the following article
through from beginning to end without pause or comment:
M. Godin Anticipates the Law. - The Real Murderer of John Darrow
Writes His Confession and Then Suicides in His Cell. - Contrived
to Mix His Own Poison Under the Very Nose of His Jailer! -=20
The Dorchester Mystery Solved at Last. - Full Description of the
Life of One of the Cleverest Criminals of the Century.
At 4.30 this morning M. Godin
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