McGinity's summing-up brought matters towards a conclusion. We had come to the end of this drama of mystery, which, in its twisted course, involved the loss of three lives—perhaps four, for LaRauche was still to be accounted for.
The interview had no sooner ended when McGinity became very restless, and wanted to get back to the castle. A state of nerves which I could not but regard as possessing a certain significance. He was anxious to get back to Pat.
The next day we learned how Orkins had met his death, showing both McGinity and I, and Police Chief Meigs, were wrong in our idea that he had been shot in the back by LaRauche as he ran up the stairs. The autopsy disclosed that he had shot himself.
There was a fight between the two men, that was sure, after LaRauche had surprised his manservant at the telephone, in the act of betraying his master to the police for a price, in connection with the theft of the rocket. Maybe there was murder in the mad scientist's eye; maybe he tried to down Orkins and strangle him to death. He must have put a terrible fear in his servant's heart.
But it's pretty hard to kill a strong and active man like Orkins, unarmed. The powder marks on his chest showed the bullet had been fired at close range. Still, there was no sign of a revolver.
It was a fat-headed policeman, assigned by Chief Meigs to guard the house for the night, after our interview with Mrs. LaRauche, who found something in the bottom of the antique grandfather's clock which stood on the first landing of the stairs. He called up the Chief, and said: "Looks like this is what we're after."
It was, Chief Meigs discovered. A little plated revolver bearing the monogram "O," which Orkins no doubt kept safely hidden away on his person. The implication was that after he had run away from LaRauche and dashed up the stairs, he had stopped on the landing, where, seized with sudden remorse for his act of betrayal, he had shot himself through the heart.
It is easy to imagine the small revolver slipping from his grasp as he fell backwards, his body plunging down the stairs, and being flung with such force that it hurtled across the landing and fell in the bottom of the clock. There was no glass in the door of the clock, so it must have worked that way.