The Eight of Swords

the housemaid. Humph. When an inhibition bites a man, it's a fine novel. When a man up and bites an inhibition, it's only a detective story.'

The Russians-' said J. R.

'I knew it,' said Dr. Fell querulously. 'I was afraid of that. I decline to discuss the Russians. After long and thoughtful reflection, I have come to the conclusion that the only adequate answer to one who begins rhapsodizing about the Russians is a swift uppercut to the jaw. Besides, I find it absolutely impossible to become passionately interested in the agonies and misfortunes of any character whose name ends in 'ski’ or Vitch.' This may be insularity. It may also be a disturbing sense that, from what I read, these people are not human beings at all. Ah, God,' said Dr. Fell musingly, 'if only somebody would make a bad pun! If only Popoff would say to Whiskervitch, 'Who was that lady I seen you with last night?' Try to imagine a conversation, in the after life, between Mark Twain or Anatole France and any of the leading Russians, and you will have some vague glimmering of what I mean.'

J. R. snorted. 'You don't know what you're talking about. And, besides, get back to the subject. This is the last chapter, and we want to get it over with.'

Dr. Fell mused a while.

'The extraordinary feature about the Depping murder' he rumbled, after refreshing himself with whisky, 'is that the thing explained itself, if you only bothered to inquire what the facts meant.

'I had a strong inkling of who the murderer was long before I had met her. The first fact that established itself beyond any question was that the murderer was definitely NOT one of the little community at or around The Grange. And the murderer was not only an outsider, but an outsider who had known Depping in his past (and, at that time) unknown life.'

'Why?'

'Let us begin with the attempted murder of Spinelli by Depping, at the point in our previous deductions where we had decided that it was Depping who left the house in disguise and came back to it through the front door. The problem was this: Was Depping working with a confederate whom he had planted in that room as an alibi? Or was he working alone, and X somebody who had come unexpectedly to that room with the intent to kill — only helping him in his deception when X saw the opportunity of an alibi for him (or herself?) In either case, were there any indications as to X's identity?

'Very well. Now, all the weight of evidence lay against Depping's having a confederate, to begin with, why did he NEED a confederate at all? It's a very poor alibi, you know, merely to put somebody in a room; somebody who can't show himself, or act for you, or prove you are there. If Depping had genuinely wanted an alibi for his presence in that room, he would have had a confederate do something that could have testified to his presence… running the type- j writer, for example. Or even moving about or making conspicuous sounds of any sort. But it didn't happen. And what's the good of an alibi that doesn't alibi, but merely puts you into the power of your confederate? Why share a secret that you don't have to share at all?

'Which brings us to the second and most powerful objection. Depping was acting a part before that community. The last thing in the world he would think of doing would be to reveal himself: to tell what he was —'

'Hold on!' interrupted J. R. 'I made that objection myself.- He couldn't tell anybody what he'd been, or that he intended to go out and murder Spinelli; he didn't know or trust anybody well enough for that. But somebody' — he sighted over his eyeglasses at Morgan—'invented a long yarn about an 'innocent victim,' who had been persuaded by Depping to stay there on the grounds that he was playing a practical joke on somebody, and afterwards the accomplice couldn't reveal the plot without incriminating himself.'

Dr. Fell followed the direction of his glance at Morgan, and chuckled.

'Consider it,' he said. 'Can any of you conceive of a person from whom an excuse of that sort would come with less plausibility than from Depping? Could any of your community, Morgan, imagine Depping in the role of light and graceful practical joker? If he had come to you with a proposition of that sort, would you have believed him or assisted him?… I doubt it. But the real objection lies in the eight of swords. If you believe in an innocent confederate, what becomes of that symbol and trade-mark of the murderer? How did it come there? Why did an innocent confederate bring it there to begin with?”

'We will consider that card next. For the moment, we establish in theory that Depping had no confederate (a) because he didn't need one, and (b) because he would not have dared to reveal himself: which thesis I can prove in another way. As actual evidence of this, we have your evidence, J. R… '

'Hated to give it,' said the other. Thought it might give you ideas.' He snorted.

'When you called on Depping, he was startled to hear a knock even when he couldn't see you. That's not the behavior of a man expecting an accomplice. Furthermore, he first took the key out of his pocket to unlock the door, and later you saw him through the glass putting it back in his pocket when he'd locked the door after you.

'In brief, he was going out alone, and he was going to lock the door and take the key when he went to kill Spinelli.'

Dr. Fell tapped his finger on the chair arm.

'In deciding where to look for Depping's murderer — the person who had come into that house unseen, and was waiting for him when he returned— there were several suggestions. One of them is so obvious that it's comic.'

'Well?'

'The murderer,' said Dr. Fell, 'ate Depping's dinner.^”

There was a silence. Then the doctor shook his head.

'Reflect, if you please, on the monstrous, the solemn, the glaring give-away of that fact. Look at it from all angles, if you would try to convince me that j the murderer was somebody from that community. Study the fantastic picture of Colonel Standish, of Mrs. Standish, of Morley Standish, of Morgan, of yourself… of anybody you like to name, going up to kill Depping, finding him not at home, and then whiting away the time by sitting down and eating a hearty meal off the tray of the man you shortly expect to kill! Of, if you prefer, imagine any one of those people paying an ordinary social visit, unexpectedly, and eating the dinner they happen to find conveniently on a tray! It's not only absurd; it's unthinkable.

'That's why I remarked mat the case explained itself. There is only one explanation that can account for it. When I was meditating over this astonishing behavior of X, I said, 'Why did he eat Depping's dinner?' Morley Standish triumphandy replied, 'Because he was hungry.' But it didn't seem to occur to anybody that X was hungry because X had come from some distance away, and in a hurry. It did not seem plain that people who eat normal dinners in the neighborhood of The Grange are not apt to behave in this fashion.

The corollary to this not-very complifcated deduction is that X not only came from some distance away, but was so thoroughly intimate with Depping that he (or she) could sit down and eat a dinner like that without ever thinking twice about it. It's the sort of thing you might do with a dose relative, but few other people. You have only to ask yourself, 'How many people were close enough to Depping to fit into this picture?' And on top of that you will inquire about the key. How many people would have a key which fitted Depping's balcony door? Depping locked it when he went out, and X had to get in.'

'Yes, but X might have come in the front door—' Morgan was beginning, when he saw the flaw and stopped. 'I see. It would be the same whichever door was used. X could'nt ring and be let in by the valet.'

'Certainly not for the purpose in mind,' said Dr. Fell; 'that is, murdering Depping. Now, to the combination of these two things, a person with keys to the house yet living a great distance away, is added another significant circumstance… After his attempted murder of Spinelli, Depping returned. It was then he discovered that somewhere on the way he had lost his key to the balcony door. He went up, looked through the window, and saw X in possession. Would he have revealed himself so readily to some member of the neighborhood; gone into conversation; agreed to the scheme for walking in the front door; unless the person inside had been… who? And the answer that occurred to me in my innocence was: a daughter, who, being a daughter, he thought would not betray him. The fact that she was his mistress I didn't know, but the rule still works.

'Now we come to that mysterious eight of swords. The curious part there was that not only was there nobody there who knew what it meant, but that nobody had ever heard of Depping's interest in the occult. He never mentioned it, he never played with fortune-telling packs, though his bookshelves were stuffed with works on the subject… I filed away the idea, still wondering, when — as soon as Spinelli appeared on the scene—he recognized it. It was definitely a part of Depping's dark past. The murderer, then, was somebody who