“Absolutely,” replied Charles Cullen, who had been concentrating with his eyes closed.
“Jasper had had the presence of mind to call the police and they arrived quickly. At first they concentrated on the virgin snow in the street, hoping to find incriminating footprints. Philip’s statements were so absurd that they believed he must be innocent — at least at first. The only footprints they could find were made by John Buresford, which went from the front door of the house to the T junction. They were very clear because the snow had stopped around the time he had left. There was nothing suspicious about them: Their general direction, depth, and — above all — their angle relative to the study window ruled out the possibility of a shot from that particular path. When the colonel’s body had been found, it was several feet from the window. Furthermore, Philip — who had nothing to gain by pointing it out — insisted that Colonel Strange was not at the window at the fatal moment. He was standing by the gong just before Philip briefly turned his back on him.
“The police examined various potential lines of fire from outside the house, but in all cases the marksman would have to have been positioned close to the wall opposite the window, and within an area less than thirty feet wide. Furthermore, from the angle of the arrow in the victim’s neck, the shot must have been pretty well horizontal. Now, from a careful examination within the designated thirty-foot limit, there wasn’t the minutest aperture in the wall — not even a loose brick — and, as I’ve already noted, not a single incriminating mark in the snow on the street or on the window sill. It was seemingly impossible for the crossbowman — for the initial theory was that the arrow had been fired from a crossbow — to have taken his shot from outside the house.
“That left only the study itself, which narrowed the possibilities to just two: Either the colonel had been killed by the only other person in the room at the time, or by a cunningly concealed mechanical trap. Given the absence of any evidence of the latter, it seemed inescapable that Philip was the guilty party.”
“How did he do it, then?” asked Cullen. “Did they find a crossbow in the study?”
“No.”
“So where the devil did he hide it after he’d fired it?”
A mischievous gleam appeared behind the pince-nez of the famous detective.
“In fact, at this point the authorities were by no means totally convinced that the arrow had been fired from a crossbow. After examining the body, the medical examiner had some questions about the wound. It seemed to be consistent with the cause of death, yet didn’t seem to be a clean enough wound to be completely natural. The skin appeared to have been torn. On questioning, Philip recalled having tried in vain to pull the arrow out of the fallen victim, but quickly realized his host was dead. He now realized it was a mistake, but it was a reflex action, done in a moment of panic. The explanation was plausible, according to the examiner, but it was only one of several possibilities and still didn’t explain how the shot was fired.
“The police inspector had another theory which, in fact, explained the mystery completely. The fatal wound was inflicted by the suspect not with a crossbow arrow at all, but with a dagger. At the height of their quarrel, Philip grabbed the first weapon to hand: the kandjar. After stabbing the colonel, and noticing a crossbow arrow in the room, he tried to make it appear as though the shot came from outside. All he had to do was remove the kandjar, wipe it down and put it back on the wall, drive the arrow all the way into the wound, and then open the window. There was just one small detail that tripped him up: There were no incriminating footprints anywhere in the cul-de-sac. Everything thus pointed to Philip, and he was arrested the following day. It proved a devastating shock to Rose, even though she had been half expecting it.”
“They could scarcely have done otherwise,” observed the superintendent. “People have been hanged for a lot less. But weren’t there any other witnesses?”
“There were indeed. Fortunately for Philip, the inspector wasn’t entirely satisfied with his own theories; everything seemed too pat. Besides, not a single trace of blood had been found on the kandjar. Would Philip really have had time to clean it so thoroughly and come up with an explanation, no matter how implausible? There had barely been a couple of minutes between the end of the quarrel and the discovery of the tragedy. Would that have been enough?
“The inspector pursued his enquiries and eventually found two witnesses who, according to a local innkeeper, had left his establishment around the time of the crime. On their way home they had passed by the top end of the cul-de-sac, where the police had in fact found two sets of muddled footprints in the snow at the T junction. This was quite understandable, given that they had left the pub in a highly inebriated state, having passed the evening in a celebration of some sort. Apparently they were simply passing through. They weren’t locals, and one of them was carrying a suitcase. This helped the inspector to trace them and bring them in for questioning. They both claimed to have seen nothing, but the inspector detected a certain nervousness in their demeanour. Had they noticed something they were afraid to talk about? Had the alcohol affected them to the point of seeing ghosts?”
“Maybe they saw the snowman at the other end of the street.”
“And you think he might have been the phantom archer?” asked Dr. Twist scornfully. “Well, why not? At least that would be a murderer out of the ordinary.”
Charles Cullen shrugged his shoulders. “No, of course not, but I think there’s a glimmer of a clue there.”
“You’re very warm, but that’s not the answer. Still, I think I’ve given you enough information to solve the puzzle. Any thoughts?”
Cullen emptied his glass before answering:
“Sorry to disappoint you, but despite all the interesting snippets, I still feel it was the chief suspect. Mainly because of the window. You haven’t told me why it was open like that on a winter evening. It doesn’t make sense. Unless Philip himself had an explanation?”
“As a matter of fact, the inspector did ask him and it’s very simple. After Colonel Strange had flown off the handle, he opened the window wide so as to get some fresh air and try to cool down.”
“And what about the study door being locked? Did he have an explanation for that? Did the colonel also do that?”
“Yes. As soon as Philip had explained the subject of the meeting, Colonel Strange made a show of locking the door and declaring that nobody would leave until the matter was settled. According to Rose, that was completely in character.”