There is not the slightest doubt of it, sir."Muller moved a step nearer the desk, gazing firmly in the eyes of the excited commissioner. The sadness on the detective's face had given way to a gleam of pride that flushed his sallow cheek and brightened his grey eyes. It was one of those rare moments when Muller allowed himself a feeling of triumph in his own power, in spite of official subordination and years of habit. His slight frame seemed to grow taller and broader as he faced the Chief with an air of quiet determination that made him at once master of the situation. His voice was as low as ever but it took on a keen incisive note that compelled attention, as he continued: "Herbert Thorne is the murderer of Leopold Winkler. Now that he knows an innocent man is under accusation for his deed it is only a question of time before he will come himself to confess. He will doubtless make this confession to me, if I go to Venice to see him, and to bring him back to trial."The commissioner could doubt no longer. Pedantic though he was, Commissioner von Riedau possessed sufficient insight to know the truth when it was presented to him with such conviction, and also sufficient insight to have recognised the gifts of the man before him. "But why ... why?" he murmured, sinking back into his chair, and shaking his head in bewilderment.
"Winkler was a miserable scoundrel, sir, a blackmailer. Thorne did only what any decent man would have felt like doing in his place.
But justice must be done."
Muller's elation vanished and a deep sigh welled up from his heart.
The commissioner nodded slowly, and glanced across the desk almost timidly. This case had appeared to be so ******, and suddenly the hidden deeps of a dark mystery had opened before him, deeps already sounded by the little man here who had gone so quietly about his work while the official police, represented in this case by Commissioner von Riedau himself, had sat calmly waiting for an innocent man to confess to a crime he had not committed! It was humiliating. The commissioner flushed again and his eyes sank to the floor.
"Tell me what you know, Muller," he said finally.
Muller told the story of his experiences in the Thorne mansion, told of the slight clues which led him to take an interest in the house and its inmates, until finally the truth began to glimmer up out of the depths. The commissioner listened with eager interest.
"Then you believed this elaborate yarn told by the tramp?" he interrupted once, at the beginning of the narrative.
"Why, yes, sir, just because it was so elaborate. A man like Knoll would not have had the mind to invent such a story. It must have been true, on the face of it."The commissioner's eyes sank again, and he did not speak until the detective had reached the end of his story. Then he opened a drawer in his desk and took out a bundle of official blank-forms.
"It is wonderful! Wonderful! Muller, this case will go on record as one of your finest achievements - and we thought it was so ****** "Oh, indeed, sir, chance favoured me at every turn," replied Muller modestly.
"There is no such thing as chance," said the commissioner. "We might as well be honest with ourselves. Any one might have seen, doubtless did see, all the things you saw, but no one else had the insight to recognise their value, nor the skill to follow them up to such a conclusion. But it's a sad case, a sad case. I never wrote a warrant with a heavier heart. Thorne is a true-hearted gentleman, while the scoundrel he killed...""Yes, sir, I feel that way about it myself. I can confess now that there was one moment when I was ready to-well, just to say nothing.
"And let us blunder on in our official stupidity and blindness?"interrupted the commissioner, a faint smile breaking the gravity of his face. "We certainly gave you every opportunity.""But there's an innocent man accused - suffering fear of death - justice must be done. But, sir," Muller took the warrant the commissioner handed across the table to him. "May I not make it as easy as I can for Mr. Thorne - I mean, bring him here with as little publicity as possible? His wife is with him in Venice.""Poor little woman, it's terrible! Do whatever you think best, Muller. You're a queer mixture. Here you've hounded this man down, followed hot on his trail when not a soul but yourself connected him in any way with the murder. And now you're sorry for him! Asoft heart like yours is a dangerous possession for a police detective, Muller. It's no aid to our business.""No, sir, I know that."
"Well take care it doesn't run away with you this time. Don't let Herbert Thorne escape, however much pity you may feel for him.""I doubt if he'll want to sir, as long as another is in prison for his crime.
"But he may make his confession and then try to escape the disgrace.""Yes, sir, I've thought of that. That's why I want to go to Venice myself. And then, there's the poor young wife, he must think of her when the desire comes to end his own life...""Yes! Yes! This terrible thing has shaken us both up more than a little. I feel exhausted. You look tired yourself, Muller. Go home now, and get some rest for your early start. Good-night.""Good-night, sir."
