(Monday, September 17; 11.30 a. m.)
Half an hour later we entered the little apartment-house in 71st Street. Despite the plausibility1 of Heath’s case against Jessup, Markham was not entirely2 satisfied with the arrest; and Vance’s attitude had sown further seeds of doubt in his mind. The strongest point against Jessup was that relating to the bolting and unbolting of the side door; and when Vance had asserted that he was able to demonstrate how Skeel could have manipulated his own entrance and exit, Markham, though only partly convinced, had agreed to accompany him. Heath, too, was interested, and, though supercilious3, had expressed a willingness to go along.
Spively, scintillant4 in his chocolate-colored suit, was at the switchboard, and stared at us apprehensively5. But when Vance suggested pleasantly that he take a ten-minute walk round the block, he appeared greatly relieved, and lost no time in complying.
“How goes it?” asked Heath. “Any visitors?”
“Only one—a toff who said he’d known the Canary and wanted to see the apartment. I told him to get an order from you or the District Attorney.”
“That was correct, officer,” said Markham; then, turning to Vance: “Probably Spotswoode—poor devil.”
“Quite,” murmured Vance. “So persistent7! Rosemary and all that. . . . Touchin’.”
Heath told the officer to go for a half-hour’s stroll; and we were left alone.
“And now, Sergeant8,” said Vance cheerfully, “I’m sure you know how to operate a switchboard. Be so kind as to act as Spively’s understudy for a few minutes—there’s a good fellow. . . . But, first, please bolt the side door—and be sure that you bolt it securely, just as it was on the fatal night.”
Heath grinned good-naturedly.
“Sure thing.” He put his forefinger9 to his lips mysteriously, and, crouching10, tiptoed down the hall like a burlesque11 detective in a farce12. After a few moments he came tiptoeing back to the switchboard, his finger still on his lips. Then, glancing surreptitiously about him with globular eyes, he put his mouth to Vance’s ear.
“His-s-s-t!” he whispered. “The door’s bolted. G-r-r-r. . . .” He sat down at the switchboard. “When does the curtain go up, Mr. Vance?”
“It’s up, Sergeant.” Vance fell in with Heath’s jocular mood. “Behold! The hour is half past nine on Monday night. You are Spively—not nearly so elegant; and you forgot the moustache—but still Spively. And I am the bedizened Skeel. For the sake of realism, please try to imagine me in chamois gloves and a pleated silk shirt. Mr. Markham and Mr. Van Dine here represent ‘the many-headed monster of the pit.’—And, by the bye, Sergeant, let me have the key to the Odell apartment: Skeel had one, don’t y’ know.”
Heath produced the key and handed it over, still grinning.
“A word of stage-direction,” Vance continued. “When I have departed by the front door, you are to wait exactly three minutes, and then knock at the late Canary’s apartment.”
He sauntered to the front door and, turning, walked back toward the switchboard. Markham and I stood behind Heath in the little alcove13, facing the front of the building.
“Enter Mr. Skeel!” announced Vance. “Remember, it’s half past nine.” Then, as he came abreast14 of the switchboard: “Dash it all! You forgot your lines, Sergeant. You should have told me that Miss Odell was out. But it doesn’t matter. . . . Mr. Skeel continues to the lady’s door . . . thus.”
He walked past us, and we heard him ring the apartment bell. After a brief pause, he knocked on the door. Then he came back down the hall.
“I guess you were right,” he said, quoting the words of Skeel as reported by Spively; and went on to the front door. Stepping out into the street, he turned toward Broadway.
For exactly three minutes we waited. None of us spoke15. Heath had become serious, and his accelerated puffing16 on his cigar bore evidence of his state of expectancy17. Markham was frowning stoically. At the end of the three minutes Heath rose and hurried up the hall, with Markham and me at his heels. In answer to his knock, the apartment door was opened from the inside. Vance was standing18 in the little foyer.
“The end of the first act,” he greeted us airily. “Thus did Mr. Skeel enter the lady’s boudoir Monday night after the side door had been bolted, without the operator’s seeing him.”
Heath narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. Then he suddenly swung round and looked down the rear passageway to the oak door at the end. The handle of the bolt was in a vertical19 position, showing that the catch had been turned and that the door was unbolted. Heath regarded it for several moments; then he turned his eyes toward the switchboard. Presently he let out a gleeful whoop20.
“Very good, Mr. Vance—very good!” he proclaimed, nodding his head knowingly. “That was easy, though. And it don’t take psychology21 to explain it.—After you rang the apartment bell, you ran down this rear hallway and unbolted the door. Then you ran back and knocked. After that you went out the front entrance, turned toward Broadway, swung round across the street, came in the alley22, walked in the side door, and quietly let yourself into the apartment behind our backs.”
“Simple, wasn’t it?” agreed Vance.
“Sure.” The Sergeant was almost contemptuous. “But that don’t get you nowhere. Anybody coulda figured it out if that had been the only problem connected with Monday night’s operations. But it’s the rebolting of that side door, after Skeel had gone, that’s been occupying my mind. Skeel might’ve—might’ve, mind you—got in the way you did. But he couldn’t have got out that way, because the door was bolted the next morning. And if there was some one here to bolt the door after him, then that same person could’ve unbolted the door for him earlier, without his doing the ten-foot dash down the rear hall to unbolt the door himself at half past nine. So I don’t see that your interesting little drama helps Jessup out any.”
“Oh, but the drama isn’t over,” Vance replied. “The curtain is about to go up on the next act.”
Heath lifted his eyes sharply.
“Yeah?” His tone was one of almost jeering23 incredulity, but his expression was searching and dubious24. “And you’re going to show us how Skeel got out and bolted the door on the inside without Jessup’s help?”
Heath opened his mouth to speak, but thought better of it. Instead, he merely shrugged26 his shoulders and gave Markham a sly look.
“Let us repair to the public atrium,” proceeded Vance; and he led us into the little reception-room diagonally opposite to the switchboard. This room, as I have explained, was just beyond the staircase, and along its rear wall ran the little passageway to the side door. (A glance at the accompanying diagram will clarify the arrangement.)
Vance shepherded us ceremoniously to chairs, and cocked his eye at the Sergeant.
“You will be so good as to rest here until you hear me knock at the side door. Then come and open it for me.” He went toward the archway. “Once more I personate the departed Mr. Skeel; so picture me again en grande tenue—sartorially radiant. . . . The curtain ascends27.”
He bowed and, stepping from the reception-room into the main hall, disappeared round the corner into the rear passageway.
Heath shifted his position restlessly and gave Markham a questioning, troubled look.
“Will he pull it off, sir, do you think?” All jocularity had gone out of his tone.
“I can’t see how.” Markham was scowling28. “If he does, though, it will knock the chief underpinning29 from your theory of Jessup’s guilt30.”
“I’m not worrying,” declared Heath. “Mr. Vance knows a lot; he’s got ideas. But how in hell——?”
He was interrupted by a loud knocking on the side door. The three of us sprang up simultaneously31 and hurried round the corner of the main hall. The rear passageway was empty. There was no door or aperture32 of any kind on either side of it. It consisted of two blank walls; and at the end, occupying almost its entire width, was the oak door which led to the court. Vance could have disappeared only through that oak door. And the thing we all noticed at once—for our eyes had immediately sought it—was the horizontal position of the bolt-handle. This meant that the door was bolted.
Heath was not merely astonished—he was dumbfounded. Markham had halted abruptly33, and stood staring down the empty passageway as if he saw a ghost. After a momentary34 hesitation35 Heath walked rapidly to the door. But he did not open it at once. He went down on his knees before the lock and scrutinized36 the bolt carefully. Then he took out his pocket-knife and inserted the blade into the crack between the door and the casing. The point halted against the inner moulding, and the edge of the blade scraped upon the circular bolt. There was no question that the heavy oak casings and mouldings of the door were solid and well fitted, and that the bolt had been securely thrown from the inside. Heath, however, was still suspicious, and, grasping the door-knob, he tugged37 at it violently. But the door held firmly. At length he threw the bolt-handle to a vertical position and opened the door. Vance was standing in the court, placidly39 smoking and inspecting the brickwork of the alley wall.
“I say, Markham,” he remarked, “here’s a curious thing. This wall, d’ ye know, must be very old. It wasn’t built in these latter days of breathless efficiency. The beauty-loving mason who erected40 it laid the bricks in Flemish bond instead of the Running—or Stretcher—bond of our own restless age. And up there a bit”—he pointed41 toward the rear yard—“is a Rowlock and Checkerboard pattern. Very neat and very pretty—more pleasing even than the popular English Cross bond. And the mortar42 joints43 are all V-tooled. . . . Fancy!”
“Damn it, Vance! I’m not building brick walls. What I want to know is how you got out here and left the door bolted on the inside.”
“Oh, that!” Vance crushed out his cigarette and re-entered the building. “I merely made use of a bit of clever criminal mechanism45. It’s very simple, like all truly effective appliances—oh, simple beyond words. I blush at its simplicity46. . . . Observe!”
He took from his pocket a tiny pair of tweezers47 to the end of which was tied a piece of purple twine48 about four feet long. Placing the tweezers over the vertical bolt-handle, he turned them at a very slight angle to the left and then ran the twine under the door so that about a foot of it projected over the sill. Stepping into the court, he closed the door. The tweezers still held the bolt-handle as in a vise, and the string extended straight to the floor and disappeared under the door into the court. The three of us stood watching the bolt with fascinated attention. Slowly the string became taut49, as Vance gently pulled upon the loose end outside, and then the downward tug38 began slowly but surely to turn the bolt-handle. When the bolt had been thrown and the handle was in a horizontal position, there came a slight jerk on the string. The tweezers were disengaged from the bolt-handle, and fell noiselessly to the carpeted floor. Then as the string was pulled from without, the tweezers disappeared under the crack between the bottom of the door and the sill.
“Childish, what?” commented Vance, when Heath had let him in. “Silly, too, isn’t it? And yet, Sergeant dear, that’s how the deceased Tony left these premises50 last Monday night. . . . But let’s go into the lady’s apartment, and I’ll tell you a story. I see that Mr. Spively has returned from his promenade51; so he can resume his telephonic duties and leave us free for a causerie.”
“When did you think up that hocus-pocus with the tweezers and string?” demanded Markham irritably52, when we were seated in the Odell living-room.
“I didn’t think it up at all, don’t y’ know,” Vance told him carelessly, selecting a cigarette with annoying deliberation. “It was Mr. Skeel’s idea. Ingenious lad—eh, what?”
“Come, come!” Markham’s equanimity53 was at last shaken. “How can you possibly know that Skeel used this means of locking himself out?”
“What!” cried Heath belligerently55. “You took that outa Skeel’s room yesterday during the search, without saying anything about it?”
“Oh, only after your ferrets had passed it by. In fact, I didn’t even look at the gentleman’s clothes until your experienced searchers had inspected them and relocked the wardrobe door. Y’ see, Sergeant, this little thingumbob was stuffed away in one of the pockets of Skeel’s dress waistcoat, under the silver cigarette-case. I’ll admit I went over his evening suit rather lovin’ly. He wore it, y’ know, on the night the lady departed this life, and I hoped to find some slight indication of his collaboration56 in the event. When I found this little eyebrow-plucker, I hadn’t the slightest inkling of its significance. And the purple twine attached to it bothered me frightfully, don’t y’ know. I could see that Mr. Skeel didn’t pluck his eyebrows57; and even if he had been addicted58 to the practice, why the twine? The tweezers are a delicate little gold affair—just what the ravishin’ Margaret might have used; and last Tuesday morning I noticed a small lacquer tray containing similar toilet accessories on her dressing-table near the jewel-case.—But that wasn’t all.”
He pointed to the little vellum waste-basket beside the escritoire, in which lay a large crumpled59 mass of heavy paper.
“I also noticed that piece of discarded wrapping-paper stamped with the name of a well-known Fifth Avenue novelty shop; and this morning, on my way down-town, I dropped in at the shop and learned that they make a practice of tying up their bundles with purple twine. Therefore, I concluded that Skeel had taken the tweezers and the twine from this apartment during his visit here that eventful night. . . . Now, the question was: Why should he have spent his time tying strings60 to eyebrow-pluckers? I confess, with maidenly61 modesty62, that I couldn’t find an answer. But this morning when you told of arresting Jessup, and emphasized the rebolting of the side door after Skeel’s departure, the fog lifted, the sun shone, the birds began to sing. I became suddenly mediumistic: I had a psychic63 seizure64. The whole modus operandi came to me—as they say—in a flash. . . . I told you, Markham old thing, it would take spiritualism to solve this case.”
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1
plausibility
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| n. 似有道理, 能言善辩 | |
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2
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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3
supercilious
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| adj.目中无人的，高傲的；adv.高傲地；n.高傲 | |
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scintillant
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| adj.产生火花的，闪烁（耀）的 | |
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apprehensively
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| adv.担心地 | |
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saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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7
persistent
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| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
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8
sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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forefinger
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| n.食指 | |
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crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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burlesque
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| v.嘲弄，戏仿；n.嘲弄，取笑，滑稽模仿 | |
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12
farce
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| n.闹剧，笑剧，滑稽戏；胡闹 | |
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alcove
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| n.凹室 | |
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abreast
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| adv.并排地；跟上(时代)的步伐，与…并进地 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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16
puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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expectancy
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| n.期望，预期，（根据概率统计求得）预期数额 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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vertical
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| adj.垂直的，顶点的，纵向的；n.垂直物，垂直的位置 | |
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whoop
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| n.大叫，呐喊，喘息声；v.叫喊，喘息 | |
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psychology
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| n.心理，心理学，心理状态 | |
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alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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jeering
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| adj.嘲弄的，揶揄的v.嘲笑( jeer的现在分词 ) | |
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dubious
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| adj.怀疑的，无把握的；有问题的，靠不住的 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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ascends
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的第三人称单数 ) | |
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scowling
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| 怒视，生气地皱眉( scowl的现在分词 ) | |
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underpinning
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| n.基础材料；基础结构；（学说、理论等的）基础；（人的）腿v.用砖石结构等从下面支撑（墙等）( underpin的现在分词 )；加固（墙等）的基础；为（论据、主张等）打下基础；加强 | |
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guilt
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| n.犯罪；内疚；过失，罪责 | |
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simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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aperture
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| n.孔，隙，窄的缺口 | |
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abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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scrutinized
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| v.仔细检查，详审( scrutinize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tugged
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| v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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tug
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| v.用力拖(或拉)；苦干；n.拖；苦干；拖船 | |
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placidly
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| adv.平稳地，平静地 | |
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40
ERECTED
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| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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mortar
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| n.灰浆，灰泥；迫击炮；v.把…用灰浆涂接合 | |
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43
joints
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| 接头( joint的名词复数 )； 关节； 公共场所（尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所） （非正式）； 一块烤肉 （英式英语） | |
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44
fuming
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| 愤怒( fume的现在分词 )； 大怒； 发怒； 冒烟 | |
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mechanism
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| n.机械装置；机构，结构 | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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tweezers
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| n.镊子 | |
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twine
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| v.搓，织，编饰；（使）缠绕 | |
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taut
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| adj.拉紧的，绷紧的，紧张的 | |
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50
premises
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| n.建筑物，房屋 | |
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promenade
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| n./v.散步 | |
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irritably
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| ad.易生气地 | |
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equanimity
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| n.沉着，镇定 | |
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apparatus
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| n.装置，器械；器具，设备 | |
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belligerently
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56
collaboration
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| n.合作，协作；勾结 | |
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57
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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58
addicted
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| adj.沉溺于....的，对...上瘾的 | |
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59
crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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60
strings
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| n.弦 | |
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maidenly
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| adj. 像处女的, 谨慎的, 稳静的 | |
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modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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psychic
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| n.对超自然力敏感的人；adj.有超自然力的 | |
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seizure
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| n.没收；占有；抵押 | |
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