“I think now,” said Vance, “we can make a pretty close guess as to what happened here last night. The murderer took Drukker’s key and let himself in by the front door. He knew Mrs. Drukker’s quarters were at the rear, and he no doubt counted on accomplishing his business in Drukker’s room and departing as he had come. But Mrs. Drukker heard him. It may be she associated him with ‘the little man’ who had left the black bishop at her door, and feared that her son was in danger. At any rate, she went at once to Drukker’s room. The door may have been slightly open, and I think she saw the intruder and recognized him. Startled and apprehensive, she stepped inside and asked him why he was there. He may have answered that he had come to inform her of Drukker’s death—which would account for her moans and her hysterical laughter. But that was only a prelimin’ry on his part—a play for time. He was devising some means of meeting the situation—he was planning how he would kill her! Oh, there can be no doubt of that. He couldn’t afford to let her leave that room alive. Maybe he told her so in as many words—he spoke ‘angry-like,’ you recall. And then he laughed. He was torturing her now—perhaps telling her the whole truth in a burst of insane egoism; and she could say only ‘Oh God—oh God!’ He explained how he had pushed Drukker over the wall. And did he mention Humpty Dumpty? I think he did; for what more appreciative audience could he have had for his monstrous jest than the victim’s own mother? That last revelation proved too much for her hypersensitive brain. She repeated the nursery rhyme in a spell of horror; and then the accumulated shock dilated her heart. She fell across the bed, and the murderer was saved the necessity of sealing her lips with his own hands. He saw what had happened, and went quietly away.”
Markham took a turn up and down the room.
“The least comprehensible part of last night’s tragedy,” he said, “is why this man should have come here after Drukker’s death.”
Vance was smoking thoughtfully.
“We’d better ask Arnesson to help us explain that point. Maybe he can throw some light on it.”
“Yeh, maybe he can,” chimed in Heath. Then after rolling his cigar between his lips for a moment, he added sulkily: “There’s several people around here, I’m thinking, that could do some high-class explaining.”
Markham halted before the Sergeant.
“The first thing we’d better do is to find out what your men know about the movements of the various persons hereabouts last night. Suppose you bring them here and let me question them.—How many were there, by the way?—and what were their posts?”
The Sergeant had risen, alert and energetic.
“There were three, sir, besides Guilfoyle. Emery was set to tail Pardee; Snitkin was stationed at the Drive and 75th Street to watch the Dillard house; and Hennessey was posted on 75th Street up near West End Avenue.—They’re all waiting down at the place where Drukker was found. I’ll get ’em up here pronto.”