The French Powder Mystery

“If Mrs. French had been shot to death in the window-room at a little past midnight, ladies and gentlemen,” continued Ellery, with a twinkle in his eye, “her murderer must have committed his crime either in total darkness or by the feeble illumination of a pocket-torch! For there were no lighting fixtures that worked in the room — in fact, no bulbs — and the room was not even wired. Yet we were forced to suppose that the murderer met his victim, talked with her, perhaps quarreled with her, then shot her unerringly in two vital spots, disposed of her body in the wall-bed, cleaned up the blood-stains and what not — all in a room at best illuminated by a flashlight! No, it was not reasonable. Wherefore Inspector Queen, quite logically, I believe, concluded that the crime was not committed in the exhibition-window.”

There was a little rustle of excitement Ellery smiled, continued.

“This, however, was not the only reason for his belief. There was a third point. And that was the lipstick — the long, silver-chased lipstick — monogrammed C, found in Mrs. French’s handbag by her body. That this lipstick obviously was not Mrs. French’s I shall not discuss at this point. The pertinent factor was that it contained lip-rouge of a decidedly darker shade of red than the lip-rouge on the dead woman’s lips. But this meant that Mrs. French’s own lipstick — with which she daubed the lighter rouge on her lips — should be somewhere about. But it was not! Where could it be? Perhaps the murderer took it? That sounded rather nonsensical. The most plausible explanation seemed to be that the missing lipstick was somewhere else in the building... Why somewhere else in the building? — why not at Mrs. French’s home, or at least outside the store?

“For this very good reason. That Mrs. French’s lips — her dead mute lips — which were painted with the lighter shade of red, indicated that she had not completed her application of the rouge! There were two dabs on either side of her upper lip, and another small dab in the center of her lower lip. The rouge had not been smeared — it had patently been applied with a finger and left that way...” Ellery turned toward Marion French. He said gently, “How do you apply your lip-rouge, Miss French?”

The girl whispered: “Just as you described, Mr. Queen. Three pats, one on each side of the upper lip and one in the center of the lower lip.”

“Thank you.” Ellery smiled. “We had, then, visible evidence of a case where a woman began to paint her lips and did not complete the operation. But this was unnatural, remarkable. There are very few things that will keep a woman from finishing this delicate task. Very, very few! One of them might be a violent interruption of some kind. A violent interruption? But there was murder committed! Was that the interruption?”

He changed his tone, forged ahead. “It seemed likely. But in any case, those lips had not been painted in the window-room. Where was the lipstick? That we found it later in the apartment was merely confirmation...

“Point number four was physiological. Dr. Prouty was puzzled by the fact that there was so little blood on the corpse. Both wounds — one particularly — should have bled considerably. The precordial region contains many blood-vessels and muscles which would have been badly torn by the passage of the bullet, which left a ragged wound. Where was the blood? Had the murderer cleaned it up? But in the dark, or semi-darkness, he could not possibly have removed all traces of the copious blood-flow from those wounds. Whereupon we were compelled once more to conclude that that blood had flowed — somewhere else. Which meant that Mrs. French had been shot somewhere else than in the window-room.

“And the fifth point was a psychological one which I fear” — he smiled sadly — “would not carry much weight in a court of law. Nevertheless to me it was quite overwhelming in its indication. For the mind rebelled at the thought that the window-room was the scene of the crime. It was preposterous, dangerous, asinine from the point of view of a potential murderer. A meeting and a murder connote secrecy, privacy — any number of exact requirements. The window-room afforded none of these. The room is not fifty feet away from the head nightwatchman’s office. That area is well-patrolled at periodic intervals. Revolver-shots had to be fired — and none was heard. No! Both Inspector Queen and myself felt — for the five reasons I have given you, no single one of which was conclusive, but which were collectively significant — that the crime was not committed in the window-room.”

Ellery paused. His audience was following the story with eager, panting concentration. Commissioner Welles regarded Ellery with a new light in his small eyes. The Inspector was sunk deeply in thought.