The Darrow Enigma - Melvin L. Severy (books for 7th graders .txt) 📗

class="calibre1">for such a deception, and several possible ones cannot fail at once

to suggest themselves to them. Third: your father may have been

murdered and his last expressions a more or less accurate description

of the real facts of the case. It seems to me that these three

theories exhaust the possibilities of the case. Can anyone suggest

anything further?” And he paused for a reply.

 

“It is clear,” replied Mr. Herne with portly deliberation, “that all

deaths must be either natural or unnatural; and equally clear that

when unnatural the agent, if human, must be either the victim himself,

or some person external to him.”

 

“Precisely so,” continued Maitland. “Now our friend, the Doctor,

believes that Mr. Darrow’s death resulted from natural causes. The

official authorities will at first, in all probability, agree with

him, but it is impossible to tell what theory they will ultimately

adopt. If sufficient motive for the act can be found, some are

almost certain to adopt the suicide theory. Miss Darrow has

expressed her conviction that we are dealing with a case of murder.

Mr. Browne and Mr. Herne have expressed no opinion on the subject,

so far as I am aware.”

 

At this point Gwen, with an eagerness she had not before displayed,

- or possibly it was nervousness, - exclaimed: “And your own view

of the case?” “I believe,” Maitland replied deliberately, “that

your father’s death resulted from poison injected into the blood;

but this is a matter so easily settled that I prefer not to theorise

upon it. There are several poisons which might have produced the

effects we have observed. If, however, I am able to prove this

conjecture correct I have still only eliminated one of the three

hypotheses and resolved the matter to a choice between the suicide

and murder theories, yet that is something gained. It is because I

believe it can be shown death did not result from natural causes

that I have so strongly urged Mr. Browne not to leave the room.”

 

“Pardon me, sir!” ejaculated Browne, growing very dark and

threatening. “You mean to insinuate - ” “Nothing,” continued

Maitland, finishing his sentence for him, and then quietly ignoring

the interruption. “As I have already said, I am somewhat familiar

with the usual methods of ferreting out crime. As a lawyer, and

also as a chemical expert, I have listened to a great deal of

evidence in criminal cases, and in this and other ways, learned

the lines upon which detectives may confidently be expected to act,

when once they have set up an hypothesis. The means by which they

arrive at their hypotheses occasionally surpass all understanding,

and we have, therefore, no assurance as to the view they will take

of this case. The first thing they will do will be to make what

they will call a ‘thorough examination’ of the premises; but a

study of chemistry gives to the word ‘thorough’ a significance of

which they have no conception. It is to shorten this examination

as much as possible, - to prevent it from being more tiresome to

you than is absolutely necessary,” he said to Gwen, “that I have

taken the liberty of ascertaining and recording most of the data

the officers will require.”

 

“Believe me,” Gwen said to him in an undertone not intended for the

rest of us, though we heard it, “I am duly grateful for your

consideration and shall find a fitting time to thank you.”

 

With no other reply than a deprecating gesture, Maitland continued:

 

“Now let us look at the matter from the standpoint of the officers.

 

“They must first determine in their own minds how Mr. Darrow met his

death. This will constitute the basis of their first hypothesis.

I say ‘first’ because they are liable to change it at any moment it

seems to them untenable. If they conclude that death resulted from

natural causes, I shall doubtless be able to induce them to waive

that view of the case until I have been given time to prove it

untenable - if I can - and to act for the present upon one of the

other two possible theories. It appears, from our present

knowledge of the case, that, whichever one of these they choose,

the same difficulty will confront them.”

 

Gwen looked at him inquiringly and he continued, answering the

question in her eyes:

 

“This is what I mean. Your father, whether he committed suicide

or was murdered, in all probability met his death through that

almost imperceptible wound under his chin. This wound, so far as

I have yet been able to examine it without a glass, was made with

a somewhat blunt instrument, able, apparently, to little more than

puncture the skin and draw a drop or so of blood. Of course, on

such a theory, death must have resulted from poisoning. The

essential point is: Where is the instrument that inflicted the

wound?”

 

“Might it not be buried in the flesh?” Gwen asked.

 

“Possibly, but as I have not been able to find it I cannot believe

it very likely, though closer search may reveal it,” replied

Maitland. “Your father’s right forefinger,” he continued, “is

slightly stained with blood, but the wound is of a nature which

could not have been caused by a finger nail previously poisoned.

Since we know he pressed his hand to his throat this blood-stain

makes no more strongly toward the truth of the suicide theory than

it does toward that of the murder hypothesis. Suppose now, for we

must look at all sides of the question, the officers begin to act

upon the assumption that murder has been committed. What will

they then do? They will satisfy themselves that the east window

was opened six and three-quarters inches and securely fastened in

that position; that the two south windows were closed and fastened

and that the blinds thereof were also closed. They will ascertain

the time when death occurred, - we can easily tell them, - and this

will show them that neither of the blinds on the south side could

have been opened without so increasing the light in the room as to

be sure to attract our attention. They will learn also that the

folding doors were locked, as they are now, on this side and that

these two gentlemen [indicating Browne and Herne] sat against them.

They will then turn to the hall door as the only possible means of

entrance and I shall tell them that the Doctor and I sat directly

in front of this door and between it and Mr. Darrow. I have taken

the liberty to cut the carpet to mark the positions of our chairs.

In view of all these facts what must they conclude? Simply this:

no one entered the room, did the deed, and then left it, at least

not without being observed.” “But surely,” I ventured to suggest,

“you do not think they will presume to question the testimony of

all of us that no one was observed.”

 

“That is all negative evidence,” he replied, “and does not

conclusively prove that another might not have observed what we

failed to detect. However, it is all so self-evident that they

will not question it. I know so well their methods of reasoning

that I am already prepared to refute their conclusions at every

point, without, I regret to say, being myself able to solve the

mystery, though I may say in passing that I purposely am refraining

from formulating any theory whatever until I have ascertained

everything which it is possible to learn in the matter. In this way

I hope to avoid the error into which the detective is so prone to

fall. Once you set up an hypothesis you unconsciously, and in spite

of yourself, accentuate unduly the importance of all data making

toward that hypothesis, while, on the other hand you either utterly

neglect, misconstrue, or fail to fully appreciate, the evidence

oppugnant to your theory. In chemical research I gather the material

for an entire series of experiments before performing any, so that

the first few shall not, either by satisfying or discouraging me,

cause me to leave the bush half beaten.

 

“Let us see how, from the officers’ standpoint, the murder hypothesis

now stands. No assassin, it will be clear to them, could have

entered or left this room unobserved. If, therefore, a man did enter

the room and kill our friend, we, all of us, must be his accomplices.”

This remark drew some sort of exclamatory protest from every other

person in the room save Browne.

 

“Ah, that is probably the true solution,” said the artist with

ill-concealed disgust.

 

This remark and the tone in which it was uttered would have been

discourteous under any circumstances; at this particular time and in

the painful situation in which we all found ourselves it was boorish

almost beyond endurance.

 

There was nothing in Maitland’s manner to indicate that he had heard

Browne’s remark, as he quietly continued:

 

“You see this cold-blooded view, the mere statement of which causes

you all to shudder, - the more so because one of our number is the

daughter of the dead man, - is not to be entertained a moment and

is only mentioned to show the logical chain which will force the

officers into the certain conviction that no assassin did enter or

leave this room. What, then, remains of their theory? Two

possibilities. First, the murderer may have done the deed without

entering. If so, it is clear that he must have made use of the

partly-opened window. This seems so likely that they will seize

upon it with avidity. At first they will suggest that the assassin

reached in at the window and struck his victim as he sat by it.

This, they will urge, accounts for our not finding the weapon, and

they will be so sure that this is the correct solution of the

problem that I shall probably have to point out to them its patent

absurdity. This illustrates the danger of forming an hypothesis

from imperfect data. Remind them that Mr. Darrow did not sit by

the window, but eight feet three and one-half inches from it, in

almost the exact centre of the room, and their theory falls to the

ground, only to be hastily replaced, as a drowning man catches at a

straw, by a slightly varied theory. If the victim sat that distance

from the window, they will inform us, it is clear the murderous

implement must have been thrown or shot at him by the assassin.”

 

“Indeed,” said Mr. Herne, “though I had not thought of that theory

it seems to me so plausible, now that you mention it, that I think

the officers will show rare acumen if they adopt it. Very properly

may they hold that some projectile might have been shot through the

partly opened window and none of us have detected the act.”

 

“Ah, yes,” rejoined Maitland; “but when I ask them where this

implement is under this assumption, and remind them of what I shall

already have told them, viz., that Mr. Darrow sat back to the window

as well as over eight feet from it, and sat in a chair, the solid

back of which extended, like a protecting shield, fully six inches

above the top of his head, they will find it difficult to show how,

unless projectiles travel in sharp curves or angles, a man in this

position could thus receive a wound directly beneath his chin, a

wound so slight as not to penetrate the thyroid cartilage immediately

under it.

 

“The abandonment of this hypothesis will force them to relinquish

the idea that the murder was committed from without. What then

remains? Only the second alternative. They must either give