“The third incident took place within the limits of Greater London in Lovering, where the Medical School has its new dissecting laboratory,” Farquart continued in a dull voice, as if he had lost all interest in going on with his lengthy story. “The body of one Stewart Aloney disappeared; he was fifty years old, dead of a chronic tropical disease contracted while he was a sailor on the Bangkok run. This incident took place nine days after the other disappearances, on February second — strictly speaking, the night of the second going on the third. After this one the Yard took over. The investigation was conducted by Lieutenant Gregory, who later took command of one more case: the disappearance of a corpse from the mortuary of a suburban cemetery in Bromley on February twelfth — the incident involved the body of a woman who died after a cancer operation.”
“Thank you,” said the Chief Inspector. “Why isn’t Sergeant Peel here?”
“He’s sick, Chief Inspector, he’s in the hospital,” Gregory answered.
“Is that so? What’s wrong with him?”
The lieutenant hesitated.
“I’m not sure, but I think it has something to do with his kidneys.”
“Lieutenant, tell us about your investigation.”
Gregory cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and, flicking an ash into the ashtray, spoke in an unexpectedly quiet voice.
“I don’t have much to brag about. All the corpses disappeared at night, there was no evidence on the scene, no signs of forcible entry. Besides, forcible entry wouldn’t have been necessary since mortuaries aren’t usually locked, and those that are could probably be opened with a bent nail by a child…”
“The dissecting lab was locked,” said Sorensen, the medical examiner, speaking for the first time. He was sitting with his head bent backward as if to avoid drawing attention to its unpleasant angular shape, and with one finger he was massaging the swollen skin under his eyes.
It suddenly occurred to Gregory that Sorensen had done well in choosing a profession in which he associated mainly with the dead. He nodded to him with almost courtly courtesy.
“You took the words right out of my mouth, Doctor. There was an unlocked window in the room from which the corpse disappeared — in fact, it was open, as if someone had gone out through it.”
“He had to get in first,” Sorensen interrupted impatiently.
“A brilliant observation,” Gregory replied, then regretted his words and peeked at the Chief, who remained silent, unmoving, as if he hadn’t heard anything.
“The laboratory is on the first floor,” the lieutenant continued after an awkward silence. “According to the janitor, the window was locked along with all the others. He swears that all the windows were locked that night — says he’s absolutely certain because he checked them himself. The frost was setting in and he was afraid the radiators would freeze if the windows were open. Like most dissecting labs, they hardly give enough heat as it is. I talked to Professor Harvey — he’s in charge of the place. He thinks very highly of the janitor, says he takes his work a little too seriously but that he’s honest and we can believe anything he tells us.”
“Are there any possible hiding places in the laboratory?” the Chief Inspector asked. He looked around at the group as if he had suddenly become aware of their presence again.
“Well, that… would be out of the question, Chief Inspector. No one would be able to hide without the janitor’s help. There’s no furniture except for the dissecting tables, no dark corners or alcoves… in fact, nothing at all except a few closets for the students’ coats and equipment, and even a child couldn’t fit into any of them.”
“Do you mean that literally?”
“Sir?”
“That they’re too small for a child,” the Chief Inspector said quietly.
“Well…” The lieutenant wrinkled his brow. “A child might manage to squeeze into one, but at best only a seven-or eight-year-old.”
“Did you measure the closets?”
“Yes.” The answer was uttered without hesitation. “I measured all of them because I thought one might be bigger than the others. They all turned out to be the same size. Aside from the closets, there are some toilets, washrooms, and classrooms; a refrigerator and a storeroom in the basement; the professor’s office and some teachers’ rooms upstairs. Harvey says that the janitor checks each of the rooms every night, sometimes more than once — in my opinion, he tends to overdo it. Anyway, no one could have managed to hide there.”
“What about a child?” the Chief Inspector asked in a quiet voice. He took off his eyeglasses as if to soften the sharpness of his gaze. Gregory shook his head violently.
“No, it would have been impossible. A child couldn’t have opened the windows. They have locks at the top and bottom, released by levers set in the window frames. Just like here.” Gregory pointed to the window, from which a cold draft was entering the room. “The levers are very tight and it’s hard to move them. Even the janitor complained about it. Besides, I tried them myself.”
“Did he call your attention to the fact that the levers are tight?” Sorensen asked, smiling inscrutably in a way that irritated Gregory. He would have preferred to let the question pass without an answer, but the Chief Inspector was looking at him expectantly, so he replied without much enthusiasm.
“The janitor didn’t mention it until he saw me opening and closing them. He’s worse than an old maid. A terrible pain in the neck,” Gregory added emphatically, looking, as if by chance, at Sorensen. “He was very pleased with himself too. Of course that’s natural enough for someone his age,” he added in a conciliatory manner. “He’s about sixty years old, sclero —” Gregory stopped abruptly, embarrassed. The Chief Inspector wasn’t any younger than that. He searched desperately for a way to get around the obvious meaning of his concluding words but couldn’t think of anything. The other men remained absolutely still, their silence arousing Gregory’s resentment. The Chief Inspector put on his glasses.
“Are you finished?”
“Yes sir,” Gregory faltered, “yes. At least as far as these three incidents are concerned. In the last case, though, I looked over the surrounding area very carefully — I was particularly interested in any unusual activity near the lab that night. The constables on duty in the neighborhood hadn’t noticed anything suspicious. Also, when I took over the case I tried to find out as much as I could about the earlier incidents; I talked to Sergeant Peel and I went to all the other places but I didn’t find a thing, not one piece of evidence of any kind. Nothing, absolutely nothing. The woman who died of cancer and the laborer both disappeared in similar circumstances. In the morning, when someone from the family arrived at the mortuary, the coffin was empty.”
“Yes,” said the Chief Inspector. “That will be all for now. Mr. Farquart, will you continue?”
“Of course, sir. Do you want to hear about the more recent cases, sir? Right, whatever you say, sir.”
“He should be in the Navy,” Gregory thought, sighing to himself. “He always acts like he’s at the morning flag raising, and he’ll never change.”
“The next disappearance took place in Lewes seven days later, on February nineteenth. It involved a young stevedore who was run over by a car — ruptured liver with internal bleeding. The operation was a success, as the doctors say, but the patient didn’t survive. Anyway, the body disappeared before dawn. We were able to pinpoint the time because around three o’clock that morning a certain Burton died. His sister — he lived with a sister — was so afraid to stay alone with the deceased in the same apartment that she woke up the local undertaker. The body was delivered to the funeral home at exactly three in the morning. Two employees put it next to the stevedore’s body…”
“You were going to say something?” asked the Chief Inspector.
Farquart bit his mustache.
“No…” he said after a moment.
The steady drone of airplane engines could be heard outside the building. Overhead, an unseen airplane flew past on its way southward. The windowpanes rattled in quiet unison.
“That is,” Farquart added with an air of decision, “in arranging the newly delivered body, one of the employees moved the stevedore’s body because it was in his way. Well… he claims it wasn’t cold.”
“Hmm,” the Chief Inspector murmured, as if commenting on the most ordinary thing in the world. “It wasn’t cold? And how did he explain it? What were his exact words?”
“He said it wasn’t cold,” Farquart spoke reluctantly, pausing between words. “I know it sounds idiotic… ridiculous, but he insists on it. He claims he mentioned it at the time, but the other employee doesn’t remember a thing. Gregory questioned both of them separately, twice…”
The Chief Inspector, without saying a word, turned to the lieutenant.
