Evening Republican, Volume 16, Number 209, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 31 August 1912 — THE MAXWELL MYSTERY [ARTICLE]

THE MAXWELL MYSTERY

(Copyright, The Frank A Munsey Co.)

CHAPTER V. The Coroner’s Inquest The situation was indeed changed. My latent detective instinct was now fully aroused, and I determined to do all I could toward solving the tery.—I said as much to Mr. Maxwell, and he thanked me earnestly for my sympathy and interest. Mr. Hunt a skilled detective or whether I advised sending to New York for a more expert man. This annoyed me, for it proved that he considered my services as well meant, but not especially valuable. However, I showed no trace or irritation, and answered simply that 1 thought Mr. Hunt quite capable of discovering all that could be discovered. “You see,” I went on, “we Are at a disadvantage in having lost so many hours already. Had we known last night there was an intruder from outside we could easily have caught him. As it is, he has probably made good his escape.” “That is true,” said Mr. Maxwell with a sigh. “But we must do our best and leave no stone unturned in our endeavor to find Philip’s assailant.” I determined to go at once to the library and make a thorough search for clues before Mr. Hunt should arrive. All the detective literature I had ever read had taught me that it is next to impossible for a human being to enter a room and go out again without leaving a trace of some sort. So to the library I went and subjected the room and all its contents to a minute and systematic scrutiny. Contrary to all precedent, literary and repertorial, I found nothing. Again I went over the room, even more diligently, remembering Sherlock Holmes’ wise advice to discriminate cerefully between vital and incidental clues. But, alas! I could find neither, except the very doubtful onq of a fluffy bit of yellow marabout feather, which might have fallen from a lady’s fan or the trimmings of her costume. I remembered no one who had worn yellow the night before, hut, then, I take little note of ladies’ dress. iln lieu of anything more interesting, I put the bit down carefully away in my notebook and proceeded with my examination. All to no purpose. The room had been put in order by the servants that morning—dusted and possfbly swept—so it was absurd to look for anything on the floor or furniture. • Sighing to think of the opportunities we had ’ost, I turned my attention to the window by which the intruder must have entered. It was French window, reaching from floor to ceiling. It was in three divisions, each of which was really a door, and opened out on the balcony, which, as I have said, ran around both sides and the front of the house without barrier. The panes were of ground glass in a diamond pattern; and I knew that at night, with lights inside the room, an outsider might look in through the glass unseen by those within. , I opened the middle door, stepped out on the balcony and endavored to scrutinize in a scientific way. Signs of a scuffle there certainly were. Just outside the balcony I observed many long, sweeping marks tthat had every appearance of being the tracks of men who scraped their feet around in a wrestle or struggle of some sort. From the shape of these streaks in the dust I could not gather the size of the shoes that made them or the style of their toes; hut as even the paint of the balcony floor was scratched by the marks, I felt sure that a tussle of some sort had taken place there. I found nothing else of note, save two more bits of the yellow down —

one piece in the outside library blind and another bit farther front on the balcony. These I put away with my first morsel, determined to find out who wore such decoration the evening before. By this time Mr. Hunt had arrived. The coroner had come, too," bringing his jury, for it had been decided to begin the inquest that very afternoon. I paused in the library to talk to Mr. Hunt. He was not mysterious and uncommunicative like the regulation detective, but was frankly at his wit’s end. “Very little to work on, eh, Hunt?” I said. “Nothing at all,” he said, moodily stating at the carpet —— “But the inquest may bring out some important facts.” “I doubt it. If anyone knew anything he would have told it at once. Why shouldn’t he?” “We are all of one interest. The deed was doubtless done by a burglar who was trying to effect an entrance and who was frightened away by his own shots.” “Well,” I responded, ‘Tin willing to suspend judgment until I have something more definite to base my opinions on. Come, let us go downstairs.” A crowd had assembled in the lower rooms, for the inquest was in a way a public function. I was sure the Maxwells were ter-, ribly annoyed at this invasion of their beautiful home, but I was also sure that such thoughts were swallowed up in their eagerness to discover and punish the murderer of Philip. Mr. Billings had impaneled his jury and was already examining the first witness. The first witness was Gilbert Crane. To ,my surprise he appeared agitated and ill 5 at ease. In one way this was not astonishing, for as the first one to discover the tragedy, his testimony ■would be of great importance. But he had been so cool and self-possessed alt day that I couldn’t understand his present demeanor. “Will you tell us,” said the coroner, “the circumstances which led to your going to the library last evening?’* “I was alone in the billard room,” said Gilbert. “I had been there alone for some time and I was troubled and did not care to join the merry crowd in the music room. I heard Mr. King come downstairs, go into Mr. Maxwell’s room and talk to him for a few moments. After this I heard Mr. King tell Mr. Maxwell that Philip Maxwell and Miss Leslie were in the library. “After this Mr. King walked through the room I was in, and he went on to the music room. I stayed exactly where I was for some time longer and then concluded I would go home. “Not wishing to make my adieus to the guests, I thought I would merely say good-night to Mr. Maxwell. T lifted the portiere and looked into Ms study, but, as he appeared > to be |

asleep, I thought I would not disturb him, but would just run upstairs for my banjo and then slip away unnoticed. “I went upstairs, and I admit it was curiosity concerning the two people inside that led rife to pause and look toward the library door. I heard no sound of voices, so I took another step or two in that direction, and, looking saw Philip’s figure stretched out on the floor. “Then, of course, I went into the room. It has no door, and the portiers were but partly drawn. Seeing what was evidently a serious accident of some sort, I immediately ran downstairs ahd called Mr. Sheldon to the scene:” “You saw no one else in the room?” “No-o,” said Gilbert, but he seemed to hesitate. “Caif you fix the time of your going upstairs?” “I can. When I looked into Mr. Maxwell’s room, I noticed by his large clock that it was 20 minutes after 10. In less than a minute after that I was upstairs.” “That will do,” said Mr. Billings, and Gilbert was dismissed. Dr. Sheldon was called next, and testified that he had responded immediately to Mr. Crane’s call, and on reaching the library found Philip Maxwell’s dead body on the floor and Miss Leslie, wounded and unconscious, a few feet away. “She was shot?” asked the coroner. “Yes, shot in the shoulder. She had fallen, and’in so doing had hit her temple. This rendered her unconscious. I extracted the ball, and found it to ’be a .38 calibre. The revolver found in Miss Leslie’s hand is also .38-calibre.”

“And has the hall been extracted from Mr. Philip Maxwell’s body?” i “Yes; that is also a3B calibre. He was shot thfouglTThe heart, andlnusf have died instantly.” “In your opinion, how long had he been dead when you examined the body?” “Not long, as the body was still warm. Not more than half an hour at the most.” “We will not pursue this line of investigation farther until we can hear Miss Leslie’s story,” said Mr. Billings. Mr. Maxwell’s testimony was merely to the effect that he had spent the evening in the music room until ahout 9:30 at which time he went to his study and remained there, reading and occasionally dozing, until he had been told the dreadful news. Asked if he heard any shots, he said he did not, owing to his deafness and the fact, that he was asleep part of the time. He was excused, and Mr. Billings then asked if anyone had heard any shots. Then Miss Maxwell’s gentle voice was heard, saying: “I heard two shots, and they were fired at exactly 10 o’clock.” “This is most important, madam,” said the coroner. “Will you kindly take the witness chair?” Then Miss Miranda testified that she was in her room preparing for bed. Her doors were closed, and the water was running for Her bath, so that she could not hear distinctly, but at 10 o’clock she heard two sounds that seemed to her like pistol shots. At that time, however, she hardly thought they were shots, but she opened her hall door and looked out. Seeing nothing unusual, and hearing the gay music downstairs, she assumed it was the slamming of doors or some other unimportant noise, and so thought no more about it until informed of what had happened. * “It is fortunate that we are able to fix the time so accurately,” said the" coroner, “as it may be helpful in discovering the criminal.” (To be Continued.) The jiffy curtains are a feature of the R-C-H cars that are meeting with instant favor by the public. President Taft has restored to intry 751,691 acres of land in Colorado heretofore included in coal withdrawals. More than 500,000 acres of these lands are in North Park, Jackson county. Miss Marion Oskamp, of Wyoming, Ohio., left Los Angeles Thursday cn an js,ooo mile journey to northern China to become the wife of the Rev. A. K. Wharton, a Presbyterian missionary. George C. Cleveland has been appointed -chief engineer of the Lake Shore and Michigan Southern railroad, vice Samuel Rockwell, appointed consulting engineer. Mr. Cleveland has been assistant chief engineer. President Taft has invited competition for designing the medal authorized by congress to be presented to Captain Arthur H. Rostron of the liner Carpathia, who rescued more than 700 survivors of the Titanic. As the result of her lover disappearing, Miss Helen Jackson had kept her bed for fifty years in a room that was kept dark in ber home at Luzerne, N. Y. She died this week and for the first time in the half century the sunshine has penetraled this bedroom.