MINUTE MYSTERIES (continued 2)

‘I began to look for the missing knife with which Briggs had been killed. Every passenger, even the maid, brakeman, and porter, every inch of the car and all baggage, were searched, but still we failed to find it.

‘The window-sills were covered with freshly fallen snow and an examination proved that none of them had been opened. No one had left the car and no one had entered either washroom. I knew the knife must be in the car—but where?

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‘Washington, our old Negro porter, really discovered the murderer’s identity by “scrutinizin’ ’em all.”

‘I know your reputation, Professor, so you will probably have little difficulty in determining how Washington located the assassin, but I’ll bet you can’t tell me where I found the knife.’

Jackson’s face fell as Fordney quickly replied, ‘As there was only one possible place it could have been, you found it....’

How long did it take you to discover the knife?

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61 Forgery

‘Can it be possible that this has happened to me!’ thought Everett Taber, as he stood in the National Bank of New York ready to deposit his fortune. Having completed his arrangements late the day before with the bank’s executives, he was the first patron of the morning. Standing alone in the bank’s commodious quarters, he regretted he had no one with whom to share his happiness.

Suddenly, as he was making out his deposit slip, he decided to use his own name, Everett Mead, instead of his stepfather’s name, by which he had been known most of his life. It would be a simple matter to arrange this with the officials later. As he blotted the deposit slip, Everett Mead felt a new sense of poise and self-assurance take possession of him. He gazed fondly at the name which proclaimed him a wealthy man. By changing it he could completely sever former associations and start life anew. What a wonderful day it was!

The cashier, impressed with the amount of 124 the deposit, was very obliging and wondered, as he thought of his own meager salary, how it would feel to have so much money.

‘I see you are left-handed, Mr. Mead,’ he said, in an effort to appear interested in such an important personage.

‘Yes,’ smilingly.

He left the bank without further conversation. Less than an hour later his name had been forged to a check for five thousand dollars, despite the fact that no one knew he had changed his name and no one had seen him make out his deposit slip.

Professor Fordney, acquainted with the facts, knew immediately how the forgery had been accomplished. Do you?

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62 The Christmas Eve Tragedy

‘Professor Fordney,’ said Sheriff Brown, of Lake Dalton, ‘I came to New York to ask your help in clearing up the murder of Horace Perkins at Luckley Lodge.’

‘Sit down and tell me about it,’ invited Fordney.

‘The family chauffeur, returning from the station at ten o’clock on Christmas Eve, found Perkins lying in a field, five yards off the Lodge drive, with his skull bashed in.’

‘He telephoned me immediately and I instructed him to see that nothing was disturbed. Arriving fifteen minutes later, I personally examined the ground so no clues would be destroyed.

‘The only footprints to be found were six of Perkins’s leading from the drive to the spot where he lay. Around the body were a number of deep impressions about two inches square. It had been snowing all day until half an hour before the discovery of Perkins.

‘Leading away from the body and ending at the main road, two hundred yards distant, 126 were four lines of these same impressions, about three and a half feet apart in length and about fourteen inches in width. In some places, however, they were badly run together.

‘A stranger in our parts is quickly noted and investigation failed to reveal a recent one. There were absolutely no other clues and I could find no motive for the crime. It has me stumped, Professor,’ concluded Brown.

‘Give me a little time,’ said Fordney. ‘Perhaps I can help. I’ll call you at your hotel.’

An hour later, he said over the telephone, ‘Sheriff, look for a man who.... Such a person only could possibly have committed the murder.’

What did Fordney say to Brown?

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63 A Knight of the Bath

‘You’ve heard me speak of my eccentric friend, Joe Leimert, haven’t you, Professor?’ inquired Jud. ‘Great character! His costly new Los Angeles penthouse is the despair of architects, but it reflects Joe, who cares little for the opinions of others. Particularly in the matter of baths is his independence reflected. While he has six of them, he is fondest of the one leading off his own room.

‘It is a large all-tile bath twenty-four feet long, fifteen wide, and seven high, without a single window. He went in to bathe a few days ago, locked the door on the inside, as was his habit, and turned the cold water full on. When he went to turn it off, he found to his dismay that the mechanism controlling the drain and the taps was out of order. He couldn’t let the water out and he couldn’t turn the tap off. Neither could he unlock the door, and it was impossible to make himself heard. What a predicament! There he was in a locked bath with no window, couldn’t open or break down the door, couldn’t let the water out, or 128 turn it off, and he had no way of attracting attention.

‘Such a situation might have disturbed most people, but not Joe. He leisurely proceeded with his bath and, when finished, nonchalantly departed.’

‘My dear Jud,’ smiled the Professor, ‘your friend was indeed eccentric. Of course, there was only one way out for him.’

This one’s easy, don’t you think?

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64 Murder in the First Degree

‘Well, Inspector, we have your man,’ said Fordney as he walked into the office. ‘He gave us a merry chase, though.

‘What a cool one this murderer is! He calmly ate his dinner while planning the crime. He didn’t give the cashier a chance—just brutally shot him down in cold blood—and all for thirty dollars. I tell you, Inspector, a man doesn’t need much incentive to commit murder these days. After shooting the cashier, he made a fast get-away in a waiting car.

‘Fortunately, there was a policeman having dinner in the restaurant at the time, and he gave orders that nothing was to be disturbed at the table where the suspected murderer had eaten.

‘There are several witnesses who will identify him, including the waitress who served him, but no jury will convict on that alone.

‘While I found none of the suspect’s fingerprints, personal effects, or physical traces at or on the table, I did find there a sure means of 130 conviction. I am positive he calmly premeditated this outrage while eating his dinner.’

‘I hope you’re right, Professor,’ said Inspector Kelley, ‘but both he and his attorney seem confident. They claim the gun was discharged accidentally.’

‘They’ll never get away with that. The Prosecuting Attorney will be able to prove that this man deliberately planned the crime while eating his dinner. It’s murder in the first degree!’

How did the Professor know the crime was premeditated?

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65 A Rendezvous with Death

‘One runs into unique conspiracies in my work,’ said Professor Fordney over his after-dinner coffee. ‘Here is the clue to that Stone case you are all interested in,’ he continued, passing the following newspaper advertisement:

WANTED. Competent private secretary. Unusual salary and opportunity for young man speaking Spanish. Culture and refinement necessary qualifications. Address KR 164.

‘I don’t see how that gave you a lead. Looks innocent enough to me,’ remarked one of the guests.

‘Well,’ said the Professor, ‘that ad furnished the strongest link in my chain of evidence. I had information that Jack Carroll was infatuated with Stone’s wife. At the suggestion of his wife, Stone answered this ad and received a reply requesting him to call for a personal interview. That interview was with death!

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‘Mrs. Stone, when questioned, said she and her husband had not been on particularly friendly terms recently and that the last she saw of him was when he left for White Plains to see about the position.

‘I called at the newspaper office and was informed that the ad had been inserted by Jonathan Gills, Pomeroy Hotel. They remembered it because Mr. Gills had telephoned asking if there were any replies to his ad. Despite the affirmative answer, they had never been called for. I found Jonathan Gills was unknown at the Pomeroy Hotel.

‘I learned from Mrs. Stone that her husband had answered the ad in long-hand and that he was left-handed and a very poor penman.

‘Pondering the matter, though puzzled at first, I finally hit upon the manner in which Stone had been led to his death,’ concluded Fordney.

How do you think it was done?

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66 A Rum Regatta

‘Here’s a story that should amuse you, Jean,’ said Professor Fordney to his efficient and charming secretary.

He laughed heartily as he handed her a letter from his old friend, George Collins, government investigator in Florida.

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Jean read the following:

An old sailor sitting on the sands of Nassau mending his fishing net was approached by three rum-runners shortly after the break of dawn. They came seeking his advice in connection with a wager they had made among themselves the night before.

The three of them, having sampled too freely of the liquor they were to take the next day to Miami, had put up three thousand dollars as a prize for the owner of the last boat to reach Miami. The fact that their boss was in a hurry for the liquor had been completely forgotten.

Sobered, they realized the ridiculousness of the wager but while anxious to reach Miami as quickly as possible, they all agreed it was not to be changed.

The old sailor continued weaving the cords into his net with slow deliberation. In a few minutes, calling them to his side, he whispered exactly the same advice into the ear of each.

A smile spread over his weather-beaten face and he chuckled as the three rum-runners raced to the boats and started for Miami at top speed.

‘It is amusing,’ laughed Jean, ‘but he forgot to say what the old sailor whispered!’

‘That’s for you to figure out, young lady. I’ve never been a rum-runner, but I’ve got the answer.’

What advice did the old sailor whisper to the rum-runners?

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67 Who is the Heir?

‘As the Île de France slipped from her berth, Europe-bound, John Morgan, the brother of New York’s largest theatrical producer, waved good-bye to his family on the dock,’ said Professor Fordney.

‘Arriving in Paris a week later, he registered at the Hôtel Crillon. At two o’clock next morning, he called the office and demanded he be given another suite immediately, saying he didn’t like the view from his present rooms. This, despite the fact that he had occupied—in fact, insisted upon—this suite many times in the past.

‘Because of his prominence and wealth, he was accommodated at once.

‘Moving on to Berlin four days later, he registered at the Hotel Adlon. The manager, anxious to please a brother of the internationally known producer, greeted him personally. He afterward remarked how worried Mr. Morgan appeared at the time.

‘At two o’clock in the morning a repetition of the Paris occurrence took place.

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‘From Berlin he went in turn to London, Copenhagen, Brussels, Vienna, Bucharest, and Sofia, spending exactly four days in each place. He then went to Teheran, Persia. He explained to the American Consul there that he had come to Persia to sample at first hand the celebrated wines of Shiraz, and also to continue his search for one Mirah Svari, a mystic he had met in New York, and for whom he had sought vainly all over Europe.

‘On the fourth day in Teheran, he was found dead of an overdose of hashish, in a squalid house in an unsavory quarter.

‘Receiving news of his death, his attorney in New York, acting on previous instructions, opened his will, in which he had left his entire fortune of five million dollars to the producer.

‘But, strange as it may seem, it was found John Morgan never had a brother. What a situation!

‘Under the circumstances, and according to law, who received the huge fortune?’ smiled Fordney to his dinner guests.

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68 The Professor Stops a Blunder

At four o’clock Thursday afternoon, Louis Mundy unexpectedly received a telegram requesting him to return home immediately, as his brother was ill.

At eight that evening, he alighted from the plane in Washington. He had not been in the city during the past two months. Hurrying to his suburban home, he found his brother greatly improved. At ten o’clock he set out on a hike through the country, returning at midnight.

These facts were all verified.

Between eleven and twelve o’clock that night, John Skidder was murdered, and the only thing missing from his house was a note for ten thousand dollars signed by Mundy.

Skidder’s secretary said the note was habitually kept at the office and that she was very surprised when he took it home that evening.

Mundy declared he saw or passed no one on his hike, but under severe questioning admitted having been near Skidder’s house shortly after eleven o’clock.

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A thorough investigation revealed that Skidder had no known enemies and no one, other than Mundy, had the slightest reason for wishing him dead.

Mundy was consequently arrested. As he knew Skidder lived with only an old man servant (who was out until after twelve that night), the police believed he had gone unobserved to the house, demanded the note, and, when refused, had murdered Skidder. No one but Mundy could possibly profit by the disappearance of the note. As it was due in ten days and he was in no position to meet it, they anticipated little difficulty in obtaining a conviction due to the strong motive and weak alibi.

Asked his opinion, Professor Fordney surprisingly said he DIDN’T believe any American jury would convict Mundy.

He was right— Now, don’t argue! There’s only one answer. Don’t peek! Figure it out.

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69 The Perfect Crime

Peter Johannes had one burning ambition—to commit a perfect crime. After much thinking and careful planning, he chose burglary for his experiment and a large brownstone mansion for the scene of his action.

Learning its occupants had left town, he arrayed himself in a business suit of conservative cut, flung a light topcoat over his arm, picked up a Gladstone bag, covered with foreign labels, and set out.

He had ascertained, of course, when the policeman patrolling that beat was farthest away. At such a time he drove up in his swanky sport roadster, swung jauntily to the sidewalk, skipped up the steps, and fitted a skeleton key into the lock, which yielded easily. So far so good, he thought.

Inside, he adjusted a black mask to his eyes and silk gloves to his hands: the former for a bit of local color he couldn’t resist; the latter for more practical purposes. What a jolly thing this burglaring was!

He quickly filled his Gladstone with silver 140 and other valuables. Hurrying out, he removed his gloves after closing the door.

‘Done, and not a single clue left!’ he said to himself.

As he was about to descend the steps, he saw out of the corner of his eye the policeman rounding the corner. Feigning disinterest, he quickly pushed the bell-button and stood there whistling.

‘Hey, you!’ shouted the policeman, now standing at the bottom of the steps. ‘What are you doin’ there? Them people ain’t home.’

‘Howdy, Officer. How goes it?’ said our hero blithely as he turned to greet the bluecoat. ‘I know they’re not home; been trying to raise someone for five minutes. Annoying, too, after running out to see them. Oh, well,’ he continued, ‘I’ll be going along,’ as he unconcernedly picked up his bag.

‘You bet you will—right to the hoosegow,’ bellowed the guardian of the peace. ‘Your story I might have believed, but.... Come on, now, I’m takin’ you down.’

Alas for the perfect crime! ‘What caused our hero’s arrest?’ asked Professor Fordney of his class.

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70 The Professor Sees Through It

‘Let’s go in to dinner—it’s twenty minutes after six, and I’m starved,’ said Hawkins.

‘Right!’ responded Professor Fordney, his train companion, ‘I’m hungry, too.’

The two men had met only a few minutes before, as casually as travelers do, but already seemed to find each other agreeable company.

At dinner Hawkins explained he was a conductor on another railroad and bemoaned the loss of passenger traffic. Fordney, too, decried the depression and its effects.

When the conductor came through, Hawkins tendered a pass with a friendly remark, and Fordney, who said he had boarded the train in such a hurry he didn’t have time to purchase a ticket, paid a cash fare. Neither he nor the conductor having proper change, he borrowed fourteen cents from Hawkins.

After an enjoyable dinner, they went back to the club car for a smoke and continued their chat.

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‘Ever been in Savannah, Mr. Hawkins?’ asked Fordney.

‘Why, yes. Several times. Why?’

‘Oh, nothing in particular. Charming city, isn’t it?’

‘Yes, it is, but I like the quaintness of New Orleans better, myself.’

And so they chatted through a pleasant evening until Hawkins, with a yawn, said: ‘Well, it’s a quarter to eleven. Bedtime for me. See you in the morning. Good-night, Professor. I’ve enjoyed knowing you.’

‘Good-night,’ responded Fordney. ‘I’ll give you the fourteen cents in the morning. Don’t let the fact that I’m aware of your deception keep you awake!’

‘What?’ cried the amazed Hawkins.

What did Fordney mean?

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71 The Kidnapers’ Cleverness

‘There are times,’ mused Professor Fordney from the depths of the most comfortable chair in the lounge of the University Club, ‘when the criminal does show ingenuity of a high order. I recall a most interesting and baffling case on which I worked ten years ago.

‘A wealthy man whose daughter had been kidnaped had been warned that, if he appealed to the police, she would be killed. Consequently, it was difficult to get his coöperation in running down the criminals. However, upon receiving the following note delivered in an express package 12″ × 12″ × 12″ he sought my advice.

Send us, by the means herein given you, $5,000 in cash, at exactly midnight tonight. If you do so, your daughter will be returned unharmed.

‘My client did as directed and his child was returned safely next day.

‘Do you know, Jim,’ asked Fordney of his 144 fireside companion, ‘what means the kidnapers employed that made trapping of them, or discovery of their whereabouts, absolutely impossible? There’s a nice little problem in deduction for a rising young attorney,’ he laughed.

After ten minutes of deep silence on Jim’s part, he said, ‘I can’t figure it out, Professor. What was it?’

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