Speaker 1: 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