“Certainly!” Attorney Garder said.
“Very well. And the switchboard girl in the office downstairs, who came on duty at noon, has declared to me that no call came from the apartment of Mrs. Lennek after she came on duty at twelve o’clock! How are we to explain that?”
There was silence for a moment.
“Why, that is not possible!” Mrs. Crend cried then. “Madge certainly telephoned to me at half past three.”
“And she telephoned to me,” Attorney Garder said.
“The switchboard girl is sure that she did not telephone from the apartment at all,” Detective Sam Frake said. “Nobody called from Mrs. Lennek’s apartment, and no call came in from the outside after noon, she says. She would know, of course. And she tells me that she is certain, because she was not so busy as usual. And she always watched — for Mrs. Lennek’s calls, she says, because Mrs. Lennek had such a sweet, low voice, and she liked to hear it! You all know that Mrs. Lennek did have a peculiarly sweet voice.”
“And I heard that voice at half past three!” Mrs. Crend declared. “Do you suppose my sister could have telephoned from outside the apartment?”
“If she had telephoned from some other apartment in the building, the switchboard girl would have noticed it,” Frake replied. “And she could not have telephoned from outside the building at half past three and then returned to her apartment and been dead at almost the same moment. Moreover, nobody saw her go out or come in.”
“It puzzles me,” Attorney Garder declared. “I am sure that it was Mrs. Lennek’s voice I heard. Yet it seems she was dead at that time, or within a couple of minutes afterward. And if the switchboard girl says she did not telephone from the apartment — Oh, I give it up!”
“There is another little shock due you,” said Detective Frake. “Miss Dolge says her mistress was alive at three. You two persons declare she telephoned at half past three. Mr. Purden admits that he found her dead a couple of minutes after half past three. The Crends were here at a quarter of four, and the coroner’s physician came here at four o’clock precisely. According to all that, she had been dead no longer than half an hour when the coroner’s physician had his first look at the body.”
“Yes,” said Attorney Garder.
“And the coroner’s physician, ladies and gentlemen, declares that Mrs. Lennek had been dead for more than an hour when he arrived at four o’clock.”
“Preposterous!” Attorney Garder exclaimed.
“The doctor’s judgment is not infallible, of course,” Detective Frake said. “But he understands perfectly the action of the poison that was used in this case. And he declares on his professional reputation that Mrs. Lennek had been dead an hour. If she was dead at three o’clock, she could not have telephoned at half past three.”
“Then she wasn’t dead at three o’clock,” Garder said. “She certainly telephoned to me as three-thirty. And the maid did not leave until three, did she?”
“I— I left a few minutes before that,” Marie Dolge stammered. “It was when I was talking to Peter Podd in the back hallway that we noticed by the wall clock that it was three. I must have left the apartment five or ten minutes before three.”
“Then,” said Garder, “I’d say that Mrs. Lennek killed herself, or was murdered, as soon as the maid departed. But those telephone calls remain.”
Detective Frake turned to Marie Dolge again.
“You say that you did not see her drink the milk?”
“No, sir. I put it on the end of the desk and then hurried away to get ready to go downtown.”
“And what was she doing at the time?”
“Writing, sir. I did not notice particularly.”
“There had been no callers during the morning?”
“No, sir,” the maid replied.
“Had the front door of the apartment been opened?”
“Yes, sir. I opened it and took in the Sunday papers the boy from the office had left.”
“Close the door again?”
“Yes, sir.”
“There’s a spring catch inside the door?”
“Yes, sir,” said Marie. “It cannot be opened from the outside without using a key.”
“Now are you sure, when you closed the door, that the catch worked properly?”
“I— I couldn’t say, sir.”
“When you hurried out a little before three o’clock, did you close the door behind you?”
“I thought that I did, sir.”
“But you are not sure?”
“No, sir. I meant to, of course. Possibly the spring lock did not catch.”
“If it did not catch, the door would have swung open a few inches?”
“It probably would have, sir. There were windows open in the living room, and that would cause a draft through the hall.”
“Um!” Detective Frake grunted. “Is it possible that some one might have been hiding in the apartment; and, as soon as you had gone, came out, committed the crime and then hurried away, neglecting to close the hall door?”
“It — I suppose it would have been possible, sir. But there would be no place to hide except in a closet or under the divan in the boudoir. And how could the person have got in, in the first place?”
“But what about those telephone messages?” Attorney Garder wanted to know. “How could a dead person telephone? Is there such a thing as a ghost message? The thing is ridiculous. In my opinion, Mrs. Lennek telephoned from her boudoir at half past three, to Mrs. Crend and to me, the telephone switchboard girl to the contrary notwithstanding! I’ve known telephone girls who didn’t have their minds on their work continually.”
“Even granting that, how about the statement of the doctor that Mrs. Lennek must have been dead before half past three?” Detective Frake asked.
“With all due respect to the profession and the individual mentioned, physicians make mistakes now and then,” Attorney Garder said. “I’m a lawyer. I’ve seen two eminent physicians get up in court and dispute each other as to some pertinent fact in the testimony. Poison does not act the same on all persons.”
“You believe, then, just what?” Frake asked.
“Honestly I believe that Mrs. Lennek telephoned and then committed suicide.”
“But there are things to show that she was murdered.”
“Very well,” said Garder. “Then I am of the opinion that she was killed immediately after she telephoned.”
“That would place the murder between three-thirty, say, and three-forty?”
“Yes, sir.”
“In that case, matters are simplified,” Detective Frake said. “We know of two persons who had the opportunity to commit the crime. The first is Peter Podd. Perhaps he did call on Mrs. Lennek. Perhaps she opened the door, he stepped inside and made his request, she denied it — possibly using strong language — and in a fit of rage and despondency at thought of losing his position, Peter Podd killed her.”
“I didn’t! Don’t you say it!” Podd cried.
“Quiet!” Detective Frake commanded. “There is another possibility, of course. Mr. Purden arrived at three-thirty or a couple of minutes later. He could have killed Mrs. Lennek when he was in the apartment.”
“Why should I have done such a thing?” Purden cried.
Frake whirled to face him.
“Purden,” he cried, “isn’t it a fact that you asked Mrs. Lennek to marry you, and she refused?”
“Why, I— I—”
“Isn’t it?” Frake demanded.
“She — she said her memory was true to her husband — that for a few years, at least—”
“She refused you!” Frake said sharply.
“But — but I still had hopes. We were to continue friends—”
“Um!” the detective grunted. “You had the opportunity, Purden — and you had the motive!”