“I think not, my friends,” he said. “Here is a statement by Cuccini. I am but the innocent victim, as you will see. Cuccini has confessed to all and has implicated his friends. I would not resist—why should I? I am an honest, respectable man, and a citizen of a great and friendly country. Behold!”
He showed the paper. Manfred took it from his hand but did not read it.
“Also, whatever happens, your lady loses her beautiful hill of gold.” He found joy in this reflection. “For to-morrow is the last day——”
“Stand over there, Oberzohn,” said Manfred, and pushed him against the wall. “You are judged. Though your confession may cheat the law, you will not cheat us.”
And then the doctor saw something and he screamed his fear. Leon Gonsalez was fixing a cigarette to the long black holder he had found in Gurther’s room.
“You hold it thus,” said Leon, “do you not?” He dipped the cigarette down and pressed the small spring that was concealed in the black ebonite. “The holder is an insulated chamber that holds two small icy splinters—I found the mould in your laboratory, Herr Doktor. They drop into the cigarette, which is a metal one, and then . . .”
He lifted it to his lips and blew. None saw the two tiny icicles fly. Only Oberzohn put his hand to his cheek with a strangled scream, glared for a second, and then went down like a heap of rags.
Leon met Inspector Meadows on his way up.
“I’m afraid our friend has gone,” he said. “He has cheated the hangman of ten pounds.”
“Dead?” said Meadows. “Suicide?”