The Case of The Pocket Diary Found in the Snow [11]
arrive sometime before the third of December. That date is her twenty-fourth birthday and she was to celebrate it here."
"Did she not usually announce her coming to you?"
"No, she liked to surprise me. Three days ago I sent her a telegram asking her to bring certain necessary papers with her. This brought the answer from the overseer of her estate, an answer which has caused me great anxiety. Your coming makes it worse, for I fear -" The sick man broke off and turned his eyes on Muller; eyes so full of fear and grief that the detective's heart grew soft. He felt Fellner's icy hand on his as the sick man murmured: "Tell me the truth! Is Asta dead?"
The detective shrugged his shoulders. "We do not know yet. She was alive and able to send a message at half past eight this evening."
"A message? To whom?"
"To the nearest police station." Muller told the story as it had come to him.
The old man listened with an expression of such utter dazed terror that the detective dropped all suspicion of him at once.
"What a terrible riddle," stammered the sick man as the other finished the story.
"Would you answer me several questions?" asked Muller. The old gentleman answered quickly, "Any one, every one."
"Miss Langen is rich?"
"She has a fortune of over three hundred thousand guldens, and considerable land."
"Has she any relatives?"
"No," replied Fellner harshly. But a thought must have flashed through his brain for he started suddenly and murmured, "Yes, she has one relative, a step-brother."
The detective gave an exclamation of surprise.
"Why are you astonished at this?" asked Fellner.
"According to her notebook, the young lady does not seem to know of this step-brother."
"She does not know, sir. There was an ugly scandal in her family before her birth. Her father turned his first wife and their son out of his house on one and the same day. He had discovered that she was deceiving him, and also that her son, who was studying medicine at the time, had stolen money from his safe. What he had discovered about his wife made Langen doubt whether the boy was his son at all. There was a terrible scene, and the two disappeared from their home forever. The woman died soon after. The young man went to Australia. He has never been heard of since and has probably come to no good."
"Might he not possibly be here in Europe again, watching for an opportunity to make a fortune?"
Fellner's hand grasped that of his visitor. The eyes of the two men gazed steadily at each other. The old man's glance was full of sudden helpless horror, the detective's eyes shone brilliantly. Muller spoke calmly: "This is one clue. Is there no one else who could have an interest in the young lady's death?"
"No one but Egon Langen, if he bear this name by right, and if he is still alive."
"How old would he be now?"
"He must be nearly forty. It was many years before Langen married again."
"Do you know him personally?"
"Have you a picture of Miss Langen?"
Fellner rang a bell and Berner appeared. "Give this gentleman Miss Asta's picture. Take the one in the silver frame on my desk"; the old gentleman's voice was friendly but faint with fatigue. His old servant looked at him in deep anxiety. Fellner smiled weakly and nodded to the man. "Sad news, Berner! Sad news and bad news. Our poor Asta is being held a prisoner by some unknown villain who threatens her with death."
"My God, is it possible? Can't we help the poor young lady?"
"We will try to help her, or if it is - too late, we will at least avenge her. My entire fortune shall be given up for it. But bring her picture now."
Berner brought the picture of a very pretty girl with a bright intelligent face. Muller took the picture out of the frame and put it in his pocket.
"You will come again? soon? And remember, I will give ten thousand guldens to the man who saves Asta, or avenges her. Tell the police to spare no expense - I will go to headquarters myself to-morrow."
Fellner was a little surprised that
"Did she not usually announce her coming to you?"
"No, she liked to surprise me. Three days ago I sent her a telegram asking her to bring certain necessary papers with her. This brought the answer from the overseer of her estate, an answer which has caused me great anxiety. Your coming makes it worse, for I fear -" The sick man broke off and turned his eyes on Muller; eyes so full of fear and grief that the detective's heart grew soft. He felt Fellner's icy hand on his as the sick man murmured: "Tell me the truth! Is Asta dead?"
The detective shrugged his shoulders. "We do not know yet. She was alive and able to send a message at half past eight this evening."
"A message? To whom?"
"To the nearest police station." Muller told the story as it had come to him.
The old man listened with an expression of such utter dazed terror that the detective dropped all suspicion of him at once.
"What a terrible riddle," stammered the sick man as the other finished the story.
"Would you answer me several questions?" asked Muller. The old gentleman answered quickly, "Any one, every one."
"Miss Langen is rich?"
"She has a fortune of over three hundred thousand guldens, and considerable land."
"Has she any relatives?"
"No," replied Fellner harshly. But a thought must have flashed through his brain for he started suddenly and murmured, "Yes, she has one relative, a step-brother."
The detective gave an exclamation of surprise.
"Why are you astonished at this?" asked Fellner.
"According to her notebook, the young lady does not seem to know of this step-brother."
"She does not know, sir. There was an ugly scandal in her family before her birth. Her father turned his first wife and their son out of his house on one and the same day. He had discovered that she was deceiving him, and also that her son, who was studying medicine at the time, had stolen money from his safe. What he had discovered about his wife made Langen doubt whether the boy was his son at all. There was a terrible scene, and the two disappeared from their home forever. The woman died soon after. The young man went to Australia. He has never been heard of since and has probably come to no good."
"Might he not possibly be here in Europe again, watching for an opportunity to make a fortune?"
Fellner's hand grasped that of his visitor. The eyes of the two men gazed steadily at each other. The old man's glance was full of sudden helpless horror, the detective's eyes shone brilliantly. Muller spoke calmly: "This is one clue. Is there no one else who could have an interest in the young lady's death?"
"No one but Egon Langen, if he bear this name by right, and if he is still alive."
"How old would he be now?"
"He must be nearly forty. It was many years before Langen married again."
"Do you know him personally?"
"Have you a picture of Miss Langen?"
Fellner rang a bell and Berner appeared. "Give this gentleman Miss Asta's picture. Take the one in the silver frame on my desk"; the old gentleman's voice was friendly but faint with fatigue. His old servant looked at him in deep anxiety. Fellner smiled weakly and nodded to the man. "Sad news, Berner! Sad news and bad news. Our poor Asta is being held a prisoner by some unknown villain who threatens her with death."
"My God, is it possible? Can't we help the poor young lady?"
"We will try to help her, or if it is - too late, we will at least avenge her. My entire fortune shall be given up for it. But bring her picture now."
Berner brought the picture of a very pretty girl with a bright intelligent face. Muller took the picture out of the frame and put it in his pocket.
"You will come again? soon? And remember, I will give ten thousand guldens to the man who saves Asta, or avenges her. Tell the police to spare no expense - I will go to headquarters myself to-morrow."
Fellner was a little surprised that