“How could you see that?”
“I could see it when the lamp was lit again.”
“Then the lamp was lit again?”
“Yes, I could see the red light behind the curtain.”
“And what happened then?”
“Nothing more then, except that the man went through the garden.”
Muller rose now and took up his hat. He was evidently excited and Knoll looked at him uneasily. “You’re goin’ already?” he asked.
“Yes, I have a great deal to do to-day,” replied the detective and nodded to the prisoner as he knocked on the door. “I am glad you remembered that,” he added, “it will be of use to us, I think.”
The warder opened the door, let Muller out, and the heavy iron portal clanged again between Knoll and freedom.
Muller was quite satisfied with the result of his visit to the accused. He hurried to the nearest cab stand and entered one of the carriages waiting there. He gave the driver Mrs. Klingmayer’s address. It was about two o’clock in the afternoon now and Muller had had nothing to eat yet. But he was quite unaware of the fact as his mind was so busy that no mere physical sensation could divert his attention for a moment. Muller never seemed to need sleep or food when he was on the trail, particularly not in the fascinating first stages of the case when it was his imagination alone, catching at trifles unnoticed by others, combining them in masterly fashion to an ordered whole, that first led the seekers to the truth. Now he went over once more all the little apparently trivial incidents that had caused him first to watch the Thorne household and then had drawn his attention, and his suspicion, to Adele Bernauer. It was the broken willow twig that had first drawn his attention to the old garden next the Thorne property. This twig, this garden, and perhaps some one who could reach his home again, unseen and unendangered through this garden—might not this have something to do with the murder?