“What did you do?”
“I— I guess I lost my courage, sir. I didn’t want to speak to her if she was going some place and was in a hurry. So I turned away from the door, intending to watch and see. And then I saw Mr. Purden coming, and I went on toward the front of the hall.”
“So you didn’t go into Mrs. Lennek’s apartment at all?”
“Not at all, sir,” replied Peter Podd. “I went to the front of the hall and fussed around there for a time. One of the tenants came out and talked to me about changing some furniture, and then I started to the rear of the building again. I supposed that I’d have to wait, if Mrs. Lennek had a caller.”
“What else, Podd?”
“I passed the door, sir. It was still open about halfway. After I passed it I heard somebody come out, and I turned and saw that it was Mr. Purden.”
“He was alone?”
“Yes, sir, he was alone.”
“What did Mr. Purden do?”
“He hurried along the hall and went down the front stairs, sir. His face was white, and he looked scared. I watched him, and he went right down the stairs. I suppose he left the building, sir. I wondered if he had quarreled with Mrs. Lennek, and whether she’d have another tantrum.”
“Podd. When you passed that door as you went back, you say that it was open?”
“Yes, sir; It was open about halfway, sir.”
“Did you hear any sounds coming from the apartment?”
“No, sir,” Peter Podd replied. “I was listening, too. I was wondering whether Mrs. Lennek was going out with Mr. Purden, and whether I’d get a chance to speak to her. I didn’t hear a sound, sir.”
“What did you do then, Podd?”
“I went down the back stairs, sir, and to the servants’ entrance once more. A few minutes later I went through the hall and toward the front, thinking I might see the superintendent, and I noticed Mr. and Mrs. Crend come. Then I supposed that I’d not get a chance to speak to Mrs. Lennek at all. So I went to my own room, and I was there, sir, until I heard about the lady being found dead.”
“How did you hear that?”
“The superintendent told me first, sir, and asked me to stand by so everything could be done with as little publicity as possible. Those were the words he used, sir. I was to let the coroner’s men in. That’s all I know about it.”
Detective Sam Frake reflected silently for a time. Peter Podd still twisted his cap nervously in his hands, licked at his lips, and glanced furtively around the room at the others.
“Podd,” he asked finally, “did you really think there was hope that Mrs. Lennek would ask the superintendent not to discharge you?”
“I— I really didn’t think so, sir, but I was going to ask her a last time.”
“Are you quite certain, Podd, that you didn’t ask her, and that she refused — and that you killed her for refusing?”
“Don’t say that, sir!” Peter Podd exclaimed. “I never went into the apartment, sir — never saw her. I heard Mr. Purden coming just as I was going to ring. I never killed her, sir!”
“That will do!” Frake said. “Go back to your other seat, Podd.”
Peter Podd staggered back across the room and collapsed into a chair. Detective Sam Frake looked after him, pursed his lips, narrowed his eyes, scratched thoughtfully at his chin.
Then Detective Frake got up and faced them. “Remain as you are until I return, please,” he said.
He hurried out into the hall and closed the door after him. The fingerprint man was waiting.
“How about the milk in the bottle?” Frake asked.
“The chemist telephoned a few minutes ago. The milk in the bottle is all right. And he confirmed the coroner man’s report.”
“Um!” Frake grunted. “Anything else?”
“No, sir.”
Frake went on to the Lennek apartment, entered the boudoir, and used the telephone once more. Then he looked again at the desk and the chest of drawers in the corner, and stood back and surveyed the room. Out in the hall again, he held a whispered conversation with the finger-print man, and with another detective who was on guard in the hall and awaiting Frake’s orders.
Then Frake went back into the room where his people were waiting. He could almost feel the animosity in the air. Marie Dolge and Peter Podd sat apart from the others, evidently feeling highly uncomfortable. Mr. and Mrs. Crend were on a divan in a corner, the latter weeping softly. Madison Purden sat aloof, and Attorney Garder was in another corner acting like an interested man awaiting developments.
Frake sat down and looked them over.
“Well, you have heard one another questioned,” he said. “But there are some queer things that you do not know, and which I am going to relate to you. It is these queer things that decided us it might be a case of murder rather than suicide. From the answers you have given me, and as I look at the affair now, there are certain deductions that are reached easily.”
He stopped and glanced around at them again. They watched nervously.
“At three o’clock, according to Miss Dolge, Mrs. Lennek was alive,” Detective Frake continued. “At three-forty-five, Mr. and Mrs. Crend found her dead. Mr. Purden admits that he called at three-thirty, and that Mrs. Lennek was dead then, and so we know there need be no suspicion of either Mr. or Mrs. Crend committing the murder between three and three-thirty, when, it would appear, Mrs. Lennek died.”
“Then that Madison. Purden —” Mrs. Crend began.
Detective Frake stopped her with a motion of his hand and a glare.
“Between three and three-thirty, as far as we know, two persons only could have entered the apartment. I refer to Madison Purden and Peter Podd. Of course, some one could have entered immediately after the maid left, committed the crime, and got away before Podd or Mr. Purden called in the neighborhood of three-thirty. But Podd declares he was at the front door about three-thirty, and Mr. Purden admits he celled at that hour.”
“She telephoned to me and to Mr. Garder almost on the tick of three-thirty, so she was alive then,” Mrs. Crend interrupted. “Somebody must have killed her right after she telephoned.”
“Very well, we’ll consider those phone messages again,” Frake said. “There is a great deal peculiar about them. You are certain, Mrs. Crend, that it was half past three when you received your telephone message?”
“Yes,” Laura Crend replied.
“And she said that she had called up to tell you good-by?”
“Yes. I supposed she meant an elopement. Possibly she meant that she was going to take her own life.”
“It would be plausible, if we considered the suicide theory, that she took poison as soon as she telephoned, and that Mr. Purden came into the apartment a moment later. The poison she swallowed would cause death instantly. But we are not considering the suicide theory, but one of murder. You are certain when she telephoned?”
“Yes.”
“And what about you, Mr. Garder,” Detective Frake asked the attorney.
“It was a minute or two after half past three when she telephoned me,” the attorney replied. “I touched the button immediately to call my chauffeur, and I stepped right out into the hall, and glanced at my watch. It was a little after half past three.”
“Sure of it?”
“Yes, sir!”
“And both you and Mrs. Crend feel certain that it was Mrs. Lennek’s voice you heard?”
“I’m sure of it!” Mrs. Crend said, “Do you suppose I wouldn’t know my sister’s voice?”
“It was Mrs. Lennek’s voice,” Attorney Garder declared.
“This is the first puzzle,” Detective Frake declared. “If she telephoned at half past three, and Mr. Purden found her dead an instant later, it stands to reason that she must have done the telephoning from her boudoir, doesn’t it?”