There was a dead silence in the room. The calm unemotional voice of Professor Brierly in this room of utter fear set Jimmy's spine tingling. Once more, for the third or the fourth time since he had come upon these men, he was struck with the odd notion that it was not real; that he was witnessing a play in which the actors did not know their lines and were missing their cues. It was the grotesque bordering on the terrible, the tragic.

"And Schurman, Professor?"

Jimmy almost jumped, as did some of the others on this breaking in of his thoughts. They also were evidently immersed in their own thoughts. It was Goldberg and Vasiliewski, who, as if actuated by a single impulse, had broken the silence.

"Schurman," answered Professor Brierly slowly, "was murdered; there is no question about that." Something clicked in Jimmy's mind. He had missed something from Professor Brierly's speech.

There was not his wonted incisiveness and crispness. The reporter looked sharply at the old man. Jimmy's mind cleared; he became convinced that Professor Brierly was hiding something, was withholding something he had learned in New York. He did not, as he was accustomed to do, explain in elaborate detail. Former Police Commissioner McGuire asked:

"Murdered! How was he murdered? The information is that he was hung. What a strange way of murdering a man."

Professor Brierly nodded. He said: "He was found dead, hanging from a hook in his living-room, but he was dead when he was hung."

Marshall burst out:

"Why did you go to New York, Professor?" Still speaking slowly, Professor Brierly answered: "I was engaged by the New York Eagle to undertake the trip for the purpose of viewing both bodies. I also had another reason. Since I am plunged into this investigation it may be necessary for me to have certain instruments, instruments of precision, for the purpose of conducting certain inquiries and for making certain tests."

"Why, Professor," exclaimed Justice Higginbotham. "You need not have gone to the trouble for the second reason you give.

"It is likely that my workshop and laboratory contain everything you might need."

The professor's eyes lit up with a gleam of interest.

"Indeed they do, and I may yet avail myself of them, but I wired yesterday for additional instruments, and early this morning I stopped at my place, where I obtained a few things I needed." He arose to go, but Justice Marshall detained him:

"You did not tell us the details of the death of the two men you saw in New York and Bradley Beach, Professor. You say Schurman was murdered. Won't you tell us about it?"

Jimmy was once more conscious of a hesitancy in Professor Brierly's manner. Jimmy was quite certain that if the old man were not such a forthright individual he should have used evasive tactics at this time. After a brief pause, scrutinizing briefly the faces in front of him, he resumed his seat.

"Schurman was murdered by being struck at the base of his skull.

The blow fractured one and dislocated another one of the vertebrae causing asphyxia, which made it easy for the examiner to conclude that he had been asphyxiated by the rope with which he was hung."

Once more the reporter was conscious of an unwonted hesitancy in the old scientist's manner. He cast another glance about the semicircle of strained faces; then went on: "After he was struck the fatal blow, he was hung to a hook high up on the wall of his bedroom. Schurman occupied a small apartment on West Fourteenth Street, one formerly occupied as a theatrical boarding house, when that was the theatrical district.

"Entrance into his apartment was affected by an expert cracksman, the New York police say. Schurman had a small safe. The marks on the safe and the method in which entrance was affected makes the police believe that they may be able to find the man.

"There was an additional factor. There was a small electric refrigerator which was open when the body was found. There were some soiled dishes on the table in the kitchen. It appeared that an enormous quant.i.ty of food had been eaten. On one of the shelves of the refrigerator there was an apple, a green apple in which there were teeth marks.

"Someone had evidently bitten into this apple and found it too green for eating. The maid, who came to the apartment once a day to clean up, was able to estimate the amount of food that had been eaten since she had last visited the place. Six eggs were eaten at this meal.

"This woman found Schurman's body yesterday morning. The condition of the body showed that it had been dead nearly twenty-four hours.

The condition of the stomach showed that he had not eaten for about six hours prior to death, and no eggs then. A quick search by the police placed him in a small restaurant near his apartment, about two o'clock on the morning he was found. Thus it may be a.s.sumed that the person who murdered Schurman is the person who consumed that enormous amount of food. The police say they have one additional bit of evidence they would rather not divulge."

At this point in the recital McGuire jumped up. His features were alight with a mixture of ferocity and the zeal of the hunter. He growled:

"The bird who did that left his visiting card!"

All eyes were turned in his direction.

He continued:

"Cracksmen, criminals of all kinds have their idiosyncrasies, their peculiarities. They do certain things and thus leave a broad trail for the police to follow. The police know these peculiarities, they have a record of them. Here is a bird who does an unusual thing, he eats an enormous quant.i.ty of food. He is an expert; he has probably done it before. The police are sure to get him. During my tenure of office as Police Commissioner of New York, I have seen it work out this way lots of times. They never learn, the criminals don't; they never learn."

McCall nodded. "You're right, Commissioner. Professor Brierly suggested that yesterday, when he was discussing the murder of Morris Miller. The murderer in that case left even more p.r.o.nounced clues than this one you are now discussing. Professor Brierly then said that the police must surely have a record of a man who does things in such a way."

"Sure to have," responded McGuire. He arose and stretched his short huge bulk. "This is something like it. We now have something tangible, something definite. It was the d.a.m.nable inaction that was beginning to get on my nerves. I'm going to use your phone, Judge."

They heard his voice rumbling at the telephone in the adjoining room. They were still conscious of his deep growling voice when Professor Brierly, Jimmy and McCall departed.

The two younger men succeeded in warding off from Professor Brierly the barrage of questions that was fired at him by the horde of men and women who still waited about, hoping for a crumb of information in addition to that which had been furnished.

When they were free of the crowd of newspaper men, Jimmy asked:

"Did the police tell you, Professor, what the additional bit of evidence was?"

"Yes, when I convinced them it was not suicide they made a more extended search of the apartment. It was then they learned that an expert cracksman had entered, that an expert had opened the safe without blowing it open or forcing it open. This cracksman, however, did things in a way that only about half a dozen men in the country do it and the police have all of them tagged.

"The additional individual evidence was entirely accidental. They found under the safe a small nail file. On its smooth portion they found a clear thumb and forefinger print. They were rather mysterious about it, so evidently they think they can lay their hands on the man who left this print. Off hand, I should say that finding the man who did it and fixing the guilt definitely should be rather easy."

He stopped, shook his head in some perplexity, and murmured:

"There is something about the whole devilish business that just won't fit, won't fit into all the known facts, won't fit into observation and experience; won't fit--" The rest was too low for Jimmy to hear.

Professor Brierly refused the offer of the pilot of the plane that was gently rocking near the wharf. Getting into McCall's boat with its owner, they got under way, followed by Jimmy Hale and his youthful pilot, Harry Stoy.

Chapter IX

As they approached the camp, Jimmy was amused to see the occupation with which Matthews was employed. He was still teaching young Thomas Van Orden how to dive. From a distance Jimmy saw with approval that Tommy had progressed rather well in the art. The youngster made a fairly creditable dive. Matthews was lifting him aboard the cruiser, when the youngster saw the approaching boat.

"Hey, Pop!" he yelled, his shrill treble ringing across the water.

"Lookit me dive." He jumped, landing in a flat "belly whopper"

causing a splash grossly disproportionate to his small form.

Matthews, with a grin dove after him and the lesson for the time being was over. Tommy was sent into the house, where he was followed by his adoring mother.

Matthews jerked his thumb toward the porch and said to Professor Brierly:

"You've got company, sir. He had to see you, so he's waiting. You can hear him from here."

The "him," they could hear was Detective Brasher, slumped in a deep wicker chair, head thrown back, sound asleep, his snores causing a discordant note on the peaceful scene.

At the touch of Jimmy's hand on his shoulder, he awakened. He smiled sheepishly as his eyes fell on the group standing about him and dragged himself out of his chair.

"'Scuse me, Professor; I been busy with this and ain't had much sleep. I found something that'll interest you. Mr. Matthews said you'd be along pretty soon, so I waited. Here, Professor--" He leaned over and, from behind the chair he had occupied on their arrival, he took a coiled rope. He dropped it with a soft plop at Professor Brierly's feet.

"What do you think of this, Professor?"

Professor Brierly almost pounced on the loose coils at his feet.

He carefully unwound it. There was nearly a hundred yards of wash line. Tied securely to the end of this there was an equal length of twine. Tied to the end of the latter, there was a long length of fish line, at the end of which there was a fairly heavy sinker.

There was no gut or hook, just the sinker.