The Parthian shot by Robert peel Noble. The last note of the baritone's impassionate
song had died away almost before missus Reynolds had finished the closing bars of the
accompaniment. She turned from the piano to the singer. You are in fine
voice tonight, Charles, she said, but something has given me a headache
this evening, and it has been steadily getting worse. You will excuse me,
I know, she continued as she arose. A night's rest will make
me all right. I'm so sorry, Certainly I'll excuse you. Why didn't
you tell me sooner, said Charles harding as they walked to the door.
I'll just have a smoke chat with John before I go, and perhaps he
will forgive me for my vocal disturbance. Too bad. He doesn't enjoy music,
he added, as they went up the stairs. Yes, isn't it,
she replied. He's like a blind man walking over diamonds. The beauty
of music does not exist for him. She paused before the door of her
husband's den. Good Night, she said, as she moved away. Good
Night. I hope you will feel better in the morning, said Charles,
turning to enter John's room. Missus Reynolds was keenly conscious of her headache as
she closed the bedroom door behind her, but she was suffering even more from
the memory of that which had caused it. She and Charles were to appear
on the program of a musicale on the following Friday evening, and had been
having frequent rehearsals this. It seemed at dinner that evening was the cause of
her husband's recent fits of sulkiness and ill humor. Not that he had been
a cheerful companion at all times during the past year, but of late he
was even worse, and this evening why it was absurd her husband was apparently
almost ready to forbid Charles the house. The man was jealous, her husband
actually jealous. She could laugh even now, but for the memory of his
stormy words and self incited anger. What if she and Charles had been engaged
at one time the quarrel over nothing. It was true, and her subsequent
marriage to John had ended all that, and John should realize it and be
more sensible. If John could only enjoy music and would be a little more
companionable. How long she had been asleep, she did not know, but
she awoke in terror. Could it have been the noise of a passing automobile
tire which had so alarmed her that she found herself sitting up in bed before
she was fully awake. With a fast beating heart and with trembling hands,
she slipped out of bed and opened the door. John, she called,
then again, more loudly, John, Oh, John, and ended with
a sob. What if, my god, what if he did? She
moaned, and ran to the open doorway of her husband's den. A piteous,
hard, invading scream came from her lips. Not Charles, but John
lay sprawled upon the floor, now stained with blood. Staggering and clutching the
banisters. She half ran, half fell down the stairway and out through the
door to the sidewalk. Help, Oh help, she screamed. Won't somebody
help? She moaned? What's the matter? Came from the corner across the
street as the speaker started toward her. My husband, Oh help me,
she continued to moan. The man who had responded to her call had almost
to carry her, half fainting as she was, as he accompanied her back
into the house. There he managed to get her upstairs and to bed,
which she had left in so great alarm. Where's the telephone? The words
were quick, almost curt Passing the open door of mister Rennol's room, he
had seen what lay upon the floor hallway downstairs. Came from the lips whose
trembling could not be controlled. Get a doctor, Get a doctor. Feeling
that she was in greater need of medical aid than was her husband, he
ran down the stairs hurriedly called the nearest physician and obtained his promise to come
at once. He then called another number police station. This is when sends
somebody here at once, number seven thirty four Walnut Street. Man killed.
I think looks like murder. I'll wait here. Running up the stairs again,
he found missus Reynold's in the hall, weakly strugg into her kimono and
walking with uncertain steps towards the doorway of her husband's room. I must go
to him, she cried. Wait, he said kindly. If there is
anything you can do, I will tell you. But unheedingly she followed him
into the room and stood pale and open mouthed, wringing her hands and staring
at the form upon the floor over which Wynd was now stooping. We must
wait for the doctor, he said gently, he will be here soon.
As he finished speaking, doctor Morris entered do something. Doctor quick, cried
the frantic woman to the physician, already making his examination deftly and silently.
After a brief interval, doctor Morris arose slowly. He is past my help,
Missus Rynolds, he said, you must lie down and let me do
something for you. Two men, a policeman who had come up the stairs
while doctor Morris was helping Missus Reynolds to her room, entered the room of
tragedy, exchanged words of recognition with Win, and listened to the latter's account
of what had followed his chance appearance upon the scene. Bullet wound, murmured
the second man, who was evidently a city detective and who was inspecting the
body and its surroundings. Clothing must windows locked, didn't find any gun.
Guess it's murder. Sure enough? Were the outside doors locked when missus Rendles
ran out? Anybody else in the house? I don't know, Johnson said
to Winn, You'll have to ask Missus Reynolds. Johnson turned to doctor Morris,
who, after administering a sedative to Missus Rendols, had left her in
the care of the maid. What do you make of it, doctor asked
Johnson. The bullet, as it seems to be, has entered a point
a little higher than the heart, and, judging by the distance to which
the blood has spurted, has severed an artery, probably the aorta. The
autopsy will determine the matter. One of you had better notify the coroner at
once. You do that, dan requested Johnson, turning to the policeman.
Then he again bent over the body. Hum came from him in a thoughtful
surprise as he picked up a half smoked, broken cigar which had been lying
under the edge of the dead man's coat. Portina, he said, reading
the name of the brand upon the cigar, band I just wonder. Stepping
over to a rather large humidor at one side of the room and opening it,
he examined the contents, three different brands, but no Portinas, he
informed. When I must question Missus Reynolds, she is very nervous, rejected
Doctor Morris. Is it necessary to talk to her now? Just two questions,
said Johnson, as he went across the hall to the room which he
had seen Missus Randal's enter. Missus Reynolds, did you find the front door
locked as you ran out of the house this evening, he asked. Yes,
no, I just turned the knob. She replied, who was with
your husband this evening? Missus Reynolds was the next question. A look of
horror swept over her face. He didn't do it, Charles, wouldn't hurt
anyone, she protested Charles, who continued the questioner Charles harding, But I
know he didn't do it. I know he didn't, brokenly asserted Missus Reynolds.
That remains to be seen. I won't trouble you anymore, though,
he said, and returned to the room where the body lay. The doctor
had gone. Johnson, having completed his inspection, asked the policeman to await
the coroner and went to headquarters. Wynn remained and made an examination on his
own account. He inspected all parts of the room, peering into places which
seemed very unpromising. From under the couch, he picked up a small brass
plumb bob attached to a string, regarded it thoughtfully, and put it into
his pocket. Quietly. He left the house. The next morning. As
he was about to leave his apartments, Wynn received a call from his friend
Charles Harding. Have you seen the morning papers? The latter asked excitedly.
No, why was the reply? Mister Reynolds has been murdered and I was
with him last night, exclaimed Harding. I'm sure I was followed on my
way over here. What shall I do? What kind of cigar do you
smoke? Charlie Partinez, said the other, staring, But why do you
never mind? You go about your business just as if you were not being
followed. You may be arrested, but don't let that worry you too much.
I'm going to get busy right away, if that's any comfort to you.
Harding shook him by the hand. Thanks, old fellow. I'm glad
I've got you to count on. I'll have to go now, Wynn said,
the sooner I find out about this. If I can, the better
it will be for your peace of mind. While Harding was on his way
to his office, nervously aware that he was still being shadowed, Wynn was
directing his steps up Walnut Street, absorbed in thought and unconscious of passing acquaintances.
At the home of Missus Randalls, he rang the bell. Tell Missus
Randalls, he said to the maid as he presented it card that it is
absolutely necessary for me to see her. For a few moments. As missus
Reynolds entered, paled and grief stricken, Wynn arose, I am very sorry
to disturb you just at this time, Missus Reynolds, but in the interest
of our common friend Charles Harding, it is necessary for me to learn everything
I can from you which may have a bearing upon your husband's death. Charles
couldn't have done such a thing, mister Wynn. He's incapable of it.
I agree with you, said Wynn, but if I am to clear him
before others, I must learn all the facts possible, even those which look
damaging. Had you been asleep just before you ran out of the house last
night, Yes, I had gone to bed with a headache after rehearsing some
music with Charles, and he had gone to John's room. You heard no
quarreling or noise of a struggle. No, except for the noise that awakened
me, the shot, I suppose, She added with a shudder. Was
there any reason why your husband and Charlie Harding should have quarreled? Missus Reynolds
hesitated, then spoke quickly. There was no reason mister Wynn, unless you
should call Charles unreasonable jealousy or reason. Charles and I had to practice together
a good deal lately, and John didn't like it. Who was in the
house last evening beside you and mister Reynolds and Charlie only the maid the other
servant. The man doesn't sleep in the house. Had mister Reynolds any enemies
that you know of? Had he any trouble with anyone? Not that I
why? Yes, he had. He had discharged our former servant for drunkenness.
The man became very angry and abusive when he left. What was his
name, Carl Hansen? Do you know his address? No, mister Reynolds
secured him through an employment agency. Is anything missing? Money? Jewelry?
I don't think so. Did you find the front door locked when you started
out for help last evening? Not with a key or with the bolt?
I turned only the knob to open the door. The inside knob works with
a spring lock, so the door must have been locked, and the outside
knob it takes a key to open the door from the outside. Then how
could anyone have gained entrance last night? Missus Reynolds? The other outside doors
and the windows downstairs were all locked, Missus Reynolds became even more pale.
Did Carl Hanson have a key to the house house? When asked, he
did have, said Missus Reynolds, breathing more easily, but returned it.
Couldn't he have had a duplicate made? Though? Yes, now, Missus
Reynolds, I won't keep you any longer, but I will ask permission to
inspect your husband's room again and perhaps some other parts of the house. Missus
Reynolds having acquiesced when first verified her statements as to the locks on the front
door and then revisited her husband's room. It was nearly noon before he left
the house, walking briskly and with no trace of the absorbed manner which he
had brought with him. Late in the afternoon, he learned that the autopsy
performed on mister Reynolds confirmed the opinion of doctor Morris, and that the bullet
had been found one of thirty two caliber. He was also informed that his
presence as a witness would be required at the coroner's investigation the next morning.
At this investigation, the testimony brought out the fact that mister Reynolds had died
from the effects of a bullet wound, that the condition of his clothes indicated
a struggle with someone, That no weapon had been found. That the windows
of mister Rentol's room were found to be locked when examined by the officers,
That all the windows downstairs and the outside doors except the front door opened by
Missus Reynolds, were found to be locked when examined immediately after the tragedy.
That this front door was also locked against any outsider just before it was opened
by Missus Reynolds. That the stub of a cigar of the kind smoked by
mister Harding had been under mister Renol's body, That the band of the cigar
was not to be found in mister Rentol's stock of cigars, and in act
seemed not to be on sale at any of the cigar stores in the city.
That mister Harding was the last person known to have been with mister Reynolds
before the latter's death, And that mister Reynolds had objected to the frequency of
mister Harding's calls upon Missus Reynolds and had entertained unfriendly feelings towards mister Harding on
this account. To Harding, who with pale face sat listening intently. The
presentation of these facts had been anything but reassuring. His only comfort had been
the expression of assurance upon the face of Wynn, who now addressed the coroner.
I should like to introduce further evidence, proceed, said the deputy.
After the officers who had been sent to the Reynold's house had completed their examination,
said Wynn. I made a further inspection of the room where the body
was found under the couch. I found this, he continued, holding up
the object. It is, as you see, a small plumbob, such
as is used by masons and carpenters. What in particular aroused my interest,
however, was the fact that the stout court attached to the bob had a
short piece of thread tied to it at the loose end, and the fact
that the plumbbob was found under the davenport on the floor, which the maid
informed me had been swept on the day that mister Reynolds met his death.
The maid further informed me that she was positive that the plumbob was not on
the floor at the time when the floor was swept, and that she had
never seen it before. Although I was unable to see any connection between this
plumbob and the death of mister Reynold's. I had the feeling that there was
a connection, and returned to the rentl's house the next morning with the hope
of being able to find it. From what I asked myself, had the
plumbbob been suspended, why had it been fastened as apparently it had been,
by a thread tied to the cord, instead of being fastened directly by the
court itself. And why was it thrown or left on the floor of the
room used by a man as orderly as mister Reynold's was known to be.
These questions I succeeded in answering. I found a short piece of thread tied
to the lower end of the vertical tube of the electric light chandelier, which
is in the center of mister Renol's room. I also found that the plumbbob,
if it had been attached at this point, would have cleared the floor
by about a foot just over the chandelier. In the attic of this room,
there was a short section of flooring which apparently had been removed and replaced
some time after the flooring had been laid. This I removed and under it
I saw the end of a rifle which had been thrust down into the tube
of the chandelier below. Harding sank back in his chair and relaxed with a
sigh of relief. But the coroner and the others present continued in their positions
of rigid attention. The stock of the rifle continued when had been cut off
in order to make concealment under the floor possible. The trigger was connected to
an electromagnetic device. Also concealed under the floor. In the floor of mister
Reynol's room was a pushbuton, supposed to be no longer in use, but
that it was connected with the electromagnet above. I proved when by pressing this
push button I was able to release the previously raised gun hammer. Gentlemen,
in the that rifle I found this, said Wynn impressively, as he held
up another small object. It is the empty shell of a thirty two caliber
cartridge. Your imagination can tell you the rest. Shortly after Charles Harding had
left the house, mister Reynolds attached the plumbbob to the chandelier and lay upon
the floor so that his heart would be just under the plumbbob and therefore directly
in the line of fire. He pulled the cord, breaking the thread close
to the chandelier, of course, concealing the bob and cord by throwing them
under the couch, but with the slightest change in his position on the floor,
pressed the button with an outstretched arm. That any living man is responsible
for his death, I cannot believe, nor can you, I think,
in the face of these facts, it may be more charitable for us to
believe that mister Reynolds, mentally unbalanced by the worry over his impending financial difficulties
known to a few of his friends, sought nothing but relief in death,
while trying at the same time to avoid the stigma of suicide. But it
is difficult not to entertain the idea that mister Reynolds, actuated by jealousy,
purposely removed Charles Harding's cigar stub from the ashtray to the floor, purposely disarranged
his own clothing, and purposely chose that time for pressing the push button,
when the bullet which was discharged into his own body should serve as a Parthian
shot at the man who had been in his room a few minutes before Wind's
evidence led to an immediate verdict of suicide, and every one hastened to shake
Harding's hand. Although Harding held no one's hand in as long a grasp as
he held Winds, his eyes rested upon the black gowned figure of Missus Reynolds,
whose face expressed relief as well as grief. Was not something else fleetingly
expressed there too, gladness, joy. Harding started toward her as she was
about to leave the room, then checked himself abruptly. Better wait, he
thought, and turned away to win the end of the Parthian shot by Robert pl Noble