“I suppose so,” said Purden. “I didn’t know what I was doing. I walked around and finally went to the club. There the officer found me and brought me here.”
“You mean that the shock bewildered you so that you did not do the things that would have been natural?”
“I— I suppose that was the way of it,” said Purden.
“After the first shock, you just wanted to get away?”
“Yes.”
“A sort of cowardice induced by shock?”
“I suppose so, sir.”
“Um!” Frake grunted. “Very peculiar. You were so shocked by the tragedy that you could not notify the clerk. And yet you were not too much shocked to remain for several minutes with the body, ransack the desk—”
“What’s that?” Purden cried.
“Your finger prints are on the desk with Mrs. Crend’s,” Frake told him. “They must have been put there since the furniture was polished yesterday. You were seen coming into the house, Purden. A few minutes later Peter Podd, who saw you enter, saw you go out. You acted strangely, he says. You rushed away without telling anybody that Mrs. Lennek was dead. Don’t you see how it looks, Purden?”
“You — you mean that I might have killed her?”
“You had the opportunity, and your actions certainly were very peculiar. And you ransacked that desk! You’d better tell the truth, Purden!”
There was a peculiar ring in Detective Frake’s voice. Purden was silent for a moment, and all in the room watched him closely. Finally he lifted his head and spoke in low tones.
“I— I have told you the truth,” he said. “I went into the apartment and found her, as I stated. I thought, of course, that she had committed suicide.”
“Know of any reason why she should?” Frake asked.
“No,” Purden replied. “But she — she was nervous and hysterical often. And sometimes she was despondent, too. Despite the fact that she had wealth at her command, she did not seem to have much peace of mind. She said that her sister took her to task frequently, especially for being friendly with me.”
“Did she ever hint at suicide?”
“Not in so many words. She has made the remark to me that she wished she was dead — but in the way so many persons make the remark now and then. But, when I saw her there, and the tumbler on the floor, I thought she had killed herself. I— I was afraid of—”
“Scandal, perhaps?”
“I suppose so, though there was no reason for being afraid of that. My relations with Mrs. Lennek were strictly honorable. But I— I was afraid of being connected with the affair, afraid of newspaper publicity. I ran over to the desk and looked, thinking she might have left letters — perhaps one addressed to me.”
“Did you find one?”
“I found no letters at all,” Purden replied. “If she wrote any, she did not leave them on the desk. But you have been saying that she did not commit suicide, but was murdered. I suppose my actions were peculiar. I cannot explain them. But I have told you the truth, and the whole truth!”
“You beast! You killed her!”
The words came from Mrs. Howard Crend. Madison Purden seemed to flinch, and then he turned his head and looked her straight in the eyes.
“I did not kill her,” he said, as though stating an ordinary fact. “Why should I? I hoped to make her my wife. I believe that she would have married me. If you are accusing me of being mercenary, my marriage to her would have put a fortune into my hands, whereas her death puts it forever beyond my reach.”
Detective Frake let him talk. He was watching Madison Purden carefully.
“If she was murdered,” Purden continued, “I did not do it. And if you are looking at bare facts, opportunities, and motives, why single out me? You might have done it, Mrs. Crend, since you would profit by her death. But I have cleared you. We know what time you visited the apartment, and I have said that I was there ten or fifteen minutes before that, and that she was dead then, And — and I saw the janitor in front of her door. A moment later I found that door open half a foot or so, something very unusual. For all I know, Peter Podd, the janitor, might just have come out of that door; he might have been in there killing—”
“Don’t you say that!” Peter Podd exclaimed. “I ain’t been in that apartment since yesterday when the furniture polisher was at work, and I went to tell him to do an apartment on the third floor next.”
“I am merely showing —” Purden began.
But Detective Frake stopped him.
“Pardon me, but I am not done with my questions,” he said. “That will do for the present, Mr. Purden. Go back to your other seat. Peter Podd, take this chair, please.”
Madison Purden arose and went back across the room. Peter Podd shuffled forward, holding his cap in his hands and twisting it nervously. His old face suddenly was gray as he sat down before the detective. His left hand went up and fumbled uncertainly at his chin.
CHAPTER VII
CONFESSION
Detective Sam Frake looked at the old janitor closely, seemed to be studying him for a time, and Peter Podd grew nervous beneath the scrutiny. He twisted his cap in his fingers again, gulped, licked at his lips, tugged at his thin mustache
“Well, Podd?” the detective asked, after a silence of a couple of minutes.
“I— I don’t know just what you want me to say, sir,” the old janitor replied.
“I want you to tell the truth about everything — the whole truth, Podd.”
“Of course, I’ll do that, sir,” Peter Podd said. “But I— I don’t know where to begin. That’s what puzzles me, sir.”
“You have had some trouble with Mrs. Lennek?” Detective Frake asked.
“No, sir. No real trouble, sir. She — she was terrible to me, but I always held my tongue. We had orders to always be polite to tenants, sir. And I never said a word to her, no matter how unjust she was, Mr. Frake.”
“Um!” Frake grunted. “Now what is all this about Mrs. Lennek complaining about you?”
“She told the superintendent, sir, that I had been discourteous to her, and she wanted me discharged right away. But I hadn’t, sir. Although that didn’t make any difference to her. She didn’t care, I suppose, if an old man was kicked out of his job and left to starve. I was worried, sir. I was afraid that I could not get another good job by next winter — and I didn’t know what I was going to do.”
“What did the superintendent tell you about it?” Detective Frake asked.
“Why, he as good as said, sir, that he didn’t believe that I had been discourteous to her. But she threatened that she wouldn’t renew her lease, sir, unless I was discharged.”
“I understand, Podd. And so you were feeling pretty angry at her, were you?”
“Yes, sir,” Podd answered frankly. “But I— I decided to see her if I could, sir, and ask her to tell the superintendent to let me stay.”
“You were in the rear hall downstairs when Marie Dolge left this afternoon, weren’t you?”
“Yes, sir,” Podd replied. “I like the young woman, and I was telling her my troubles. I told her that I intended asking Mrs. Lennek to have some mercy on me, sir. And Miss Dolge told me that I’d better wait a little, because Mrs. Lennek was in a tantrum.”
“And what did you do, Podd?”
“Well, I— I waited, sir. I hated to ask her, you see, being afraid that she would use hard words to me, but I knew that I had to do it as soon as possible, or else get discharged. So I finally made up my mind to do it, sir. I went up the back stairs and forward to the door of her suite.”
“What time was this, Podd?”
“It was at half past three, sir,” Podd answered. “I remember that distinctly. I went to the door, sir. The door was open a few inches, and I wondered a bit at that And I thought that maybe Mrs. Lennek was going out, had opened the door, and then stepped back to get something she had forgotten.”