按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
least I don't remember anything of the kind。 There was a strong
wind yesterday anyway； and the snow drifts easily out here。 No
tracks could remain clear for long。〃
The men walked down the straight path which led to the little gate
in the high wall。 This gate had a secret lock； which； however； was
neither hard to find nor hard to open。 Muller managed it with ease；
and looked out through the gate on the street beyond。 The broad
promenade； deserted now in its winter snowiness； led away in one
direction to the heart of the city。 In the other it ended in the
main county high…road。 This was a broad； well…made turnpike； with
footpath and rows of trees。 A half…hour's walk along it would bring
one to the little village clustering about the Archduke's favourite
hunting castle。 There was a little railway station near the castle；
but it was used only by suburban trains or for the royal private car。
Muller did not intend to burden his brain with unnecessary facts；
so with his usual thoroughness he left the further investigation of
what lay beyond the gate； until he had searched the garden thoroughly。
But even for his sharp eyes there was no trace to be found that
would tell of the night visit of the murderer。
〃In which of the pails did you put the key to the side door？〃 he
asked。
〃In the first pail on the right hand side。 But be careful； sir；
there's a nail sticking out of the post there。 The wind tore off
a piece of wood yesterday。〃
The warning came too late。 Muller's sleeve tore apart with a sharp
sound just as Johann spoke； for the detective had already plunged
his hand into the pail。 The bottom of the bucket was easy to reach；
as this one hung much lower than the others。 Looking regretfully
at the rent in his coat； Muller asked for needle and thread that
he might repair it sufficiently to get home。
〃Oh； don't bother about sewing it； I'll lend you one of mine；〃
exclaimed Johann。 〃I'll carry this one home for you； for I'm not
going to stay here alone … I'd be afraid。 I'm going to a friend's
house。 You can find me there any time you need me。 You'd better
take the key of the apartment and give it to the police。〃
The detective had no particular fondness for the task of sewing；
and he was glad to accept the valet's friendly offering。 He was
rather astonished at the evident costliness of the garment the
young man handed him； and when he spoke of it； the valet could
not say enough in praise of the kindness of his late master。 He
pulled out several other articles of clothing； which； like the
overcoat； had been given to him by Fellner。 Then he packed up
a few necessities and announced himself as ready to start。 He
insisted on carrying the torn coat； and Muller permitted it after
some protest。 They carefully closed the apartment and the house；
and walked toward the centre of the city to the police station；
where Muller lived。
As they crossed the square； it suddenly occurred to Johann that he
had no tobacco。 He was a great smoker； and as he had many days of
enforced idleness ahead of him； he ran into a tobacco shop to
purchase a sufficiency of this necessity of life。
Muller waited outside； and his attention was attracted by a large
grey Ulmer hound which was evidently waiting for some one within
the shop。 The dog came up to him in a most friendly manner； allowed
him to pat its head； rubbed up against him with every sign of
pleasure； and would not leave him even when he turned to go after
Johann came out of the shop。 Still accompanied by the dog； the two
men walked on quite a distance； when a sharp whistle was heard
behind them； and the dog became uneasy。 He would not leave them；
however； until a powerful voice called 〃Tristan！〃 several times。
Muller turned and saw that Tristan's master was a tall； stately man
wearing a handsome fur overcoat。
It was impossible to recognise his face at this distance； for the
snowflakes were whirling thickly in the air。 But Muller was not
particularly anxious to recognise the stranger； as he had his head
full of more important thoughts。
When Johann had given his new address and remarked that he would
call for his coat soon； the men parted； and Muller returned to
the police station。
The next day the principal newspaper of the town printed the
following notice：
THE GOLDEN BULLET
It is but a few days since we announced to our readers the sad
news of the death of a beautiful woman； whose leap from her
window； while suffering from the agonies of fever； destroyed
the happiness of an unusually harmonious marriage。 And now we
are compelled to print the news of another equally sad as well
as mysterious occurrence。 This time； Fate has demanded the
sacrifice of the life of a capable and promising young man。
Professor Paul Fellner； a member of the faculty of our college；
was found dead at his desk yesterday morning。 It was thought at
first that it was a case of suicide； for doors and windows were
carefully closed from within and those who discovered the corpse
were obliged to break open one of the doors to get to it。 And
a revolver was found lying close at hand； upon the desk。 But
this revolver was loaded in every chamber and there was no other
weapon to be seen in the room。 There was a bullet wound in the
left breast of the corpse； and the bullet had penetrated the
heart。 Death must have been instantaneous。
The most mysterious thing about this strange affair was
discovered during the autopsy。 It is incredible； but it is
absolutely true； as it is vouched for under oath by the
authorities who were present； that the bullet which was found
in the heart of the dead man was made of solid gold。 And yet；
strange as is this circumstance； it is still more a riddle how
the murderer could have escaped from the room where he had shot
down his victim； for the keys in both doors were in the locks
from the inside。 We have evidently to do here with a criminal
of very unusual cleverness and it is therefore not surprising
that there has been no clue discovered thus far。 The only
thing that is known is that this murder was an act of revenge。
The entire city was in excitement over the mystery； even the police
station was shaken out of its usual business…like indifference。
There was no other topic of conversation in any of the rooms but
the mystery of the golden bullet and the doors closed from the
inside。 The attendants and the policeman gathered whispering in
the corners； and strangers who came in on their own business forgot
it in their excitement over this new and fascinating mystery。
That afternoon Muller passed through Horn's office with a bundle
of papers； on his way to the inner office occupied by his patron；
Chief of Police Bauer。 Horn； who had avoided Muller since yesterday
although he was conscious of a freshened interest in the man； raised
his head and watched the little detective as he walked across the
room with his usual quiet tread。 The commissioner saw nothing but
the usual humble business…like manner to which he was accustomed
… then suddenly something happened that cam