Then, at last, Examiner Starr acted. He employed peculiar methods to fit a peculiar case.
One afternoon Starr sat and stared for some time at Vaniman. They were alone in the bank. Receiver Waite and Vona had gone away.
“Would you relish a little show?” inquired the examiner.
Vaniman had nerved himself against all kinds of surprise, he thought, but he was not prepared for this proffer of entertainment. He frankly declared that he did not understand.
“Seeing that you are doubtful, we'll have the show, anyway, and you can tell me later whether or not you relish it.” He opened the door and called. Bixby came in. It was evident that Bixby had been waiting.
“All ready!” said Starr.
“All right!” said Bixby.
“I'll say that Bixby, here, is an operator from a detective agency, in case you don't know it,” explained the examiner.
“I do know it, sir!”
Bixby pulled off his overcoat. Under it he wore a mohair office coat. He yanked off that garment, ripped the sleeves, tore the back breadth, and threw the coat under a stool. Then he secured a dustcloth from a hook, produced a small vial of chloroform, and poured some of the liquid on the cloth. He poured more of the chloroform on his hair and his vest. Then he laid down the cloth and got a roll of tape out of a drawer. He cut off a length and made a noose, slipped it over his wrists, bent down and laid the end of the tape on the floor, stood on it, and pulled taut the noose until the flesh was ridged. He stooped again and picked up two metal disks which Starr tossed on the floor; the detective did this easily, although his writs were noosed.