Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 19, No. 99, February 1952
- Автор: Грубер Фрэнк, Кемельман Гарри
- Год: 1952
- Язык: английский
- Год: American Mercury
- Жанр: Другие детективы
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“But there was nothing distinctive about the mark of the weapon,” Delhanty objected.
“If you are thinking of something like a branding iron, of course not. But if we assume that the dagger haft was selected because it fitted the original wound, it automatically gives us the shape of the real weapon. Since it was the edge of the haft that was used, I should surmise that the real weapon was smooth and rounded, or round, and about half an inch in diameter. It would have to be something that the attacker could have with him without exciting comment.”
“A squash racket!” I cried.
Nicky turned sharply. “What are you talking about?” he asked.
I told him about Starr. “He was dressed in his gym clothes and he had his squash racket with him. The frame of a squash racket would about fit those dimensions. And it would excite no comment from Bennett since Starr was in shorts and sweatshirt.”
Nicky pursed his lips and considered. “Is there any reason for supposing that the mark of a squash racket would implicate him?” he asked.
“He was seen by the chambermaid to go into the room.”
“That’s true enough,” Nicky conceded, “although I gathered from your story that he did not know he had been seen.”
Before I could answer, Delhanty spoke up. “Of course,” he said sarcastically, “I’m nothing but a cop, and all these theories are a little over my head. But I’ve made an arrest and it was done through ordinary police work on the basis of evidence. Maybe I shouldn’t have wasted my time, and my men’s time, with legwork and just sat back and dreamed the answer. But there’s pretty good proof that Bennett was robbed of a hundred dollars this morning, and I’ve got a man in a cell right now who had that hundred dollars on him and who hasn’t been able to give any explanation that would satisfy a child as to how it got there.” He sat back with an air of having put Nicky and me too, I suspect, in our places.
“Indeed! And how did you go about finding this individual?”
Delhanty shrugged his shoulders in a superior sort of way and did not answer. So I explained about the envelope and billfold clues, and how they had been tracked down.
Nicky listened attentively and then said quietly, “The mechanic arrived around 9:30. Have you considered the possibility, Lieutenant, that Bennett was already dead at the time, and that Sterling’s crime was not of having killed, but only of having robbed? Much more likely, I assure you. The man would be an idiot to kill, especially for so small a sum, when he knows that he would be suspected almost immediately — after all, his employer knew where he was going and the approximate time that he would arrive. But if he found the man already dead and he saw the money in the wallet, it would be fairly safe to take it. Even if the police were to discover that a sum of money was missing, which was unlikely in the first place, they would normally assume that it had been taken by the murderer. So he probably took the money and then went back to the shop prepared to say, if he should be asked, that he had knocked on Bennett’s door to deliver the keys and Bennett had not answered.”
“That sounds reasonable, Nicky,” I said. Then noticing the look on Delhanty’s face, I quickly added, “But it’s only a theory. And we know that criminals are guilty of idiotic acts as well as criminal ones. Now if we knew exactly when Bennett was killed, we’d know whether Sterling could be completely eliminated, or if he was still a suspect.”
“You could always get the Medical Examiner to swear that it couldn’t have happened after nine,” Delhanty murmured sarcastically.
I ignored the remark. Besides, it occurred to me that we had overlooked a possible bit of evidence.
“Look, Nicky,” I said, “do you remember Emmett Hawthorne saying that he called on Bennett on his way down to the exam? Bennett must already have been dead, which is why he didn’t answer and why Emmett concluded that he had gone on ahead. Maybe Emmett remembers what time it was. If it was before 9:30, it would at least clear Sterling.”
Nicky gave me a nod of approval, and I felt inordinately pleased with myself. It happened so seldom.
I reached for the telephone. “Do you know where he’s staying, Nicky? I’ll ring him.”
“He’s staying at the Ambassador,” Nicky answered, “but I doubt if he’s there now. He was in his cubicle in the library stacks when I left, and there’s no phone connection except at the center desk of the Reading Room. If you had a messenger, you might send him over and ask him to come here. I don’t think he’d mind. I’m sure he’d be interested in our discussion.”
“Sergeant Carter is outside chinning with your secretary,” said Delhanty grudgingly. “I could have him go. Where is it?”
“It’s a regular rabbit warren of a place,” I said. I looked at Nicky. “Perhaps you could go out and give him directions—”
“Perhaps I’d better,” said Nicky, and crossed the room to the door.
I smiled inwardly while we waited for him to return. I did not see how Starr’s alibi could be broken, but I was sure that Nicky did. When he returned a minute or two later, however, his first words were discouraging.
“Your idea of Starr and the squash racket,” he said, “is not entirely devoid of ingenuity, but it won’t do. Consider: the original quarrel was about a girl and it occurred a couple of days ago. Now if the two young men are living in the same house — on the same floor, in fact — and Bennett was probably around most of the time, since he was preparing for his exam, why didn’t Starr seek him out earlier? It is most unlikely that he would have brooded over the matter for two whole days, and then bright and early on the morning of the third day, on his way to play squash, have stopped off and killed him. Absurd! It would not be beyond the bounds of possibility if Starr had dropped in to warn him off or to threaten him, and then in the course of the quarrel that might have followed, killed him. But in that event there would have been voices raised in anger, and the noise would have been heard by the chambermaid who was listening for it. There would have been some sign of a struggle — and there was none.”
He shook his head. “No, no, I’m afraid you don’t grasp the full significance of the dagger and the necessity for its use.”
“Look at it this way,” he continued; “suppose the attacker had not used the dagger as a red herring. Suppose that after having bludgeoned Bennett with the weapon he had brought with him, he had departed. What line of investigation would the police have pursued then? On the basis of the wound, the Medical Examiner would describe the weapon as a blunt instrument, round or rounded, and about half an inch in diameter. A length of narrow pipe, or a heavy steel rod would fit, but the assailant couldn’t walk around or come into Bennett’s room carrying something like that without exciting comment and suspicion. Of course, he could carry it concealed — up his coat sleeve, perhaps. It would be awkward, but it could be managed. And it would be still more awkward to draw out without Bennett seeing and making an outcry. But again, with luck it could be managed. All this if the attacker set out with the deliberate idea of murdering. But sooner or later, the police would consider the possibility of the crime having been committed on the spur of the moment. And then it would occur to them that the weapon would have to be something that the attacker had with him, something he could carry openly without exciting the slightest suspicion. And that could only be—”