“Yes. His name was Leopold Winkler, that was in the papers to-day too. You see that pretty house opposite? Well, right behind this house is the garden that belongs to it and back of that, an old garden which has been neglected for some time. It was at the end of this garden where it touches the other street, that they found the man under a big elder-tree, early Tuesday morning, day before yesterday.”
“Oh, indeed!” said. Muller, greatly interested, as if this was the first he had heard of it. The landlord took a deep breath and was about to begin again when his customer, who decided to keep the talkative man to a certain phase of the subject, now took command of the conversation himself.
“I should think that the people opposite, who live so near the place where the murder was committed, wouldn’t be very much pleased,” he said. “I shouldn’t care to look out on such a spot every time I went to my window.”
“There aren’t any windows there,” exclaimed the landlord, “for there aren’t any houses there. There’s only the old garden, and then the large garden and the park belonging to Mr. Thorne’s house, that fine old house you see just opposite here. It’s a good thing that Mr. Thorne and his wife went away before the murder became known. The lady hasn’t been well for some weeks, she’s very nervous and frail, and it probably would have frightened her to think that such things were happening right close to her home.”
“The lady is sick? What’s the matter with her?”
“Goodness knows, nerves, heart trouble, something like that. The things these fine ladies are always having. But she wasn’t always that way, not until about a year ago. She was fresh and blooming and very pretty to look at before that.”
“She is a young lady then?”
“Yes, indeed, sir; she’s very young still and very pretty. It makes you feel sorry to see her so miserable, and you feel sorry for her husband. Now there’s a young couple with everything in the world to make them happy and so fond of each other, and the poor little lady has to be so sick.”
“They are very happy, you say?” asked Muller carelessly. He had no particular set purpose in following up this inquiry, none but his usual understanding of the fact that a man in his business can never amass too much knowledge, and that it will sometimes happen that a chance bit of information comes in very handy.
The landlord was pleased at the encouragement and continued: “Indeed they are very happy. They’ve only been married two years. The lady comes from a distance, from Graz. Her father is an army officer I believe, and I don’t think she was over-rich. But she’s a very sweet-looking lady and her rich husband is very fond of her, any one can see that.”