CHAPTER IX
There was no further possibility of a mistake. Marten’s inability to find the body could not be further attributed to a mere confusion as to its correct location. In the few minutes we had been phoning and while the remainder of the guests had been searching for the murderer, the body of the murdered man had vanished from the shore of the lagoon. Nor had any mysterious over-sweeping of the water carried it away. We found, easily enough, the place where it had lain, and we knew it by the crushed vegetation and an ominous stain on the earth.
For a moment we all stood speechless, almost motionless, gazing down on the place where the body had been. The guest’s faces all looked oddly white in the moonlight. Then I heard Nealman and Nopp talking in a subdued voice at my side.
“You see what it means,” Nealman said. “The murderer came back to the body—that’s the only explanation! That means he’s still on the grounds—perhaps within a few hundred yards.”
“But what did he do with the thing? I wish I did know what it meant. It makes no sense. But there’s nothing we can do——”
His words blurred in my consciousness, and I suddenly ceased to hear him. The reason was simply that my own thoughts were now too busy to admit external impressions. If there was one thing needed in this affair it was careful investigation and research—the very key and basis of my own life’s work. I was a scientist—at least I had gone a distance into scientific work—and scientific methods were needed now. Why shouldn’t I direct the same method that made me a successful naturalist into the unraveling of this mystery?
Science has explored the lightless mysteries of the deep, has measured the stars and traced the comets through the heavens: there was no cause to believe it couldn’t conquer now. I was of a branch of science that mainly studied externals, my methods were simply accurate observation, tireless investigation, and logical deduction—the methods of all naturalists the world over; and they were just what was needed here.
Presently I forgot the shaken men about me and began really to observe. First, I tried to fix in my mind the exact way the body had lain. It had been curiously huddled, lying rather on the right side—and the torn, stained shirt-front had been plainly visible. Its location was not far above high-tide mark, at the edge of the lawns—and because the craggy margin of the lagoon was rather precipitous at that place, not more than twenty feet from the water’s edge at low tide.
It was impossible even to hazard a guess what kind of a weapon had inflicted the death wound. But it had not been a clean, stabbing wound to the heart. The wound itself must have been a long gash downward along the breast, for the shirt and waistcoat had been curiously ripped and torn. And possibly the weapon might be found in the grass where the body had lain.