The Murders in the Rue Morgue, Edgar Allan Poe [amazing books to read .txt] 📗

even from this portion of the testimony - the

portion respecting the gruff and shrill voices - are in themselves

sufficient to engender a suspicion which should give direction to all

farther progress in the investigation of the mystery. I said

‘legitimate deductions;’ but my meaning is not thus fully expressed.

I designed to imply that the deductions are the sole proper ones,

and that the suspicion arises inevitably from them as the single

result. What the suspicion is, however, I will not say just yet. I

merely wish you to bear in mind that, with myself, it was

sufficiently forcible to give a definite form - a certain tendency -

to my inquiries in the chamber.

 

“Let us now transport ourselves, in fancy, to this chamber. What

shall we first seek here? The means of egress employed by the

murderers. It is not too much to say that neither of us believe in

præternatural events. Madame and Mademoiselle L’Espanaye were not

destroyed by spirits. The doers of the deed were material, and

escaped materially. Then how? Fortunately, there is but one mode of

reasoning upon the point, and that mode must lead us to a definite

decision. - Let us examine, each by each, the possible means of

egress. It is clear that the assassins were in the room where

Mademoiselle L’Espanaye was found, or at least in the room adjoining,

when the party ascended the stairs. It is then only from these two

apartments that we have to seek issues. The police have laid bare the

floors, the ceilings, and the masonry of the walls, in every

direction. No secret issues could have escaped their vigilance.

But, not trusting to their eyes, I examined with my own. There

were, then, no secret issues. Both doors leading from the rooms into

the passage were securely locked, with the keys inside. Let us turn

to the chimneys. These, although of ordinary width for some eight or

ten feet above the hearths, will not admit, throughout their extent,

the body of a large cat. The impossibility of egress, by means

already stated, being thus absolute, we are reduced to the windows.

Through those of the front room no one could have escaped without

notice from the crowd in the street. The murderers must have

passed, then, through those of the back room. Now, brought to this

conclusion in so unequivocal a manner as we are, it is not our part,

as reasoners, to reject it on account of apparent impossibilities. It

is only left for us to prove that these apparent ‘impossibilities’

are, in reality, not such.

 

“There are two windows in the chamber. One of them is unobstructed by

furniture, and is wholly visible. The lower portion of the other is

hidden from view by the head of the unwieldy bedstead which is thrust

close up against it. The former was found securely fastened from

within. It resisted the utmost force of those who endeavored to raise

it. A large gimlet-hole had been pierced in its frame to the left,

and a very stout nail was found fitted therein, nearly to the head.

Upon examining the other window, a similar nail was seen similarly

fitted in it; and a vigorous attempt to raise this sash, failed also.

The police were now entirely satisfied that egress had not been in

these directions. And, therefore, it was thought a matter of

supererogation to withdraw the nails and open the windows.

 

“My own examination was somewhat more particular, and was so for the

reason I have just given - because here it was, I knew, that all

apparent impossibilities must be proved to be not such in reality.

 

“I proceeded to think thus - à posteriori. The murderers did escape

from one of these windows. This being so, they could not have

refastened the sashes from the inside, as they were found fastened; -

the consideration which put a stop, through its obviousness, to the

scrutiny of the police in this quarter. Yet the sashes were

fastened. They must, then, have the power of fastening themselves.

There was no escape from this conclusion. I stepped to the

unobstructed casement, withdrew the nail with some difficulty and

attempted to raise the sash. It resisted all my efforts, as I had

anticipated. A concealed spring must, I now know, exist; and this

corroboration of my idea convinced me that my premises at least, were

correct, however mysterious still appeared the circumstances

attending the nails. A careful search soon brought to light the

hidden spring. I pressed it, and, satisfied with the discovery,

forbore to upraise the sash.

 

“I now replaced the nail and regarded it attentively. A person

passing out through this window might have reclosed it, and the

spring would have caught - but the nail could not have been replaced.

The conclusion was plain, and again narrowed in the field of my

investigations. The assassins must have escaped through the other

window. Supposing, then, the springs upon each sash to be the same,

as was probable, there must be found a difference between the

nails, or at least between the modes of their fixture. Getting upon

the sacking of the bedstead, I looked over the headboard minutely at

the second casement. Passing my hand down behind the board, I readily

discovered and pressed the spring, which was, as I had supposed,

identical in character with its neighbor. I now looked at the nail.

It was as stout as the other, and apparently fitted in the same

manner - driven in nearly up to the head.

 

“You will say that I was puzzled; but, if you think so, you must have

misunderstood the nature of the inductions. To use a sporting phrase,

I had not been once ‘at fault.’ The scent had never for an instant

been lost. There was no flaw in any link of the chain. I had traced

the secret to its ultimate result, - and that result was the nail.

It had, I say, in every respect, the appearance of its fellow in the

other window; but this fact was an absolute nullity (conclusive us it

might seem to be) when compared with the consideration that here, at

this point, terminated the clew. ‘There must be something wrong,’ I

said, ‘about the nail.’ I touched it; and the head, with about a

quarter of an inch of the shank, came off in my fingers. The rest of

the shank was in the gimlet-hole where it had been broken off. The

fracture was an old one (for its edges were incrusted with rust), and

had apparently been accomplished by the blow of a hammer, which had

partially imbedded, in the top of the bottom sash, the head portion

of the nail. I now carefully replaced this head portion in the

indentation whence I had taken it, and the resemblance to a perfect

nail was complete - the fissure was invisible. Pressing the spring, I

gently raised the sash for a few inches; the head went up with it,

remaining firm in its bed. I closed the window, and the semblance of

the whole nail was again perfect.

 

“The riddle, so far, was now unriddled. The assassin had escaped

through the window which looked upon the bed. Dropping of its own

accord upon his exit (or perhaps purposely closed), it had become

fastened by the spring; and it was the retention of this spring which

had been mistaken by the police for that of the nail, - farther

inquiry being thus considered unnecessary.

 

“The next question is that of the mode of descent. Upon this point I

had been satisfied in my walk with you around the building. About

five feet and a half from the casement in question there runs a

lightning-rod. From this rod it would have been impossible for any

one to reach the window itself, to say nothing of entering it. I

observed, however, that the shutters of the fourth story were of the

peculiar kind called by Parisian carpenters ferrades - a kind

rarely employed at the present day, but frequently seen upon very old

mansions at Lyons and Bourdeaux. They are in the form of an ordinary

door, (a single, not a folding door) except that the lower half is

latticed or worked in open trellis - thus affording an excellent hold

for the hands. In the present instance these shutters are fully three

feet and a half broad. When we saw them from the rear of the house,

they were both about half open - that is to say, they stood off at

right angles from the wall. It is probable that the police, as well

as myself, examined the back of the tenement; but, if so, in looking

at these ferrades in the line of their breadth (as they must have

done), they did not perceive this great breadth itself, or, at all

events, failed to take it into due consideration. In fact, having

once satisfied themselves that no egress could have been made in this

quarter, they would naturally bestow here a very cursory examination.

It was clear to me, however, that the shutter belonging to the window

at the head of the bed, would, if swung fully back to the wall, reach

to within two feet of the lightning-rod. It was also evident that, by

exertion of a very unusual degree of activity and courage, an

entrance into the window, from the rod, might have been thus

effected. - By reaching to the distance of two feet and a half (we

now suppose the shutter open to its whole extent) a robber might have

taken a firm grasp upon the trellis-work. Letting go, then, his hold

upon the rod, placing his feet securely against the wall, and

springing boldly from it, he might have swung the shutter so as to

close it, and, if we imagine the window open at the time, might even

have swung himself into the room.

 

“I wish you to bear especially in mind that I have spoken of a very

unusual degree of activity as requisite to success in so hazardous

and so difficult a feat. It is my design to show you, first, that the

thing might possibly have been accomplished: - but, secondly and

chiefly, I wish to impress upon your understanding the _very

extraordinary_ - the almost præternatural character of that agility

which could have accomplished it.

 

“You will say, no doubt, using the language of the law, that ‘to make

out my case,’ I should rather undervalue, than insist upon a full

estimation of the activity required in this matter. This may be the

practice in law, but it is not the usage of reason. My ultimate

object is only the truth. My immediate purpose is to lead you to

place in juxta-position, that very unusual activity of which I have

just spoken with that very peculiar shrill (or harsh) and unequal

voice, about whose nationality no two persons could be found to

agree, and in whose utterance no syllabification could be detected.”

 

At these words a vague and half-formed conception of the meaning of

Dupin flitted over my mind. I seemed to be upon the verge of

comprehension without power to comprehend - men, at times, find

themselves upon the brink of remembrance without being able, in the

end, to remember. My friend went on with his discourse.

 

“You will see,” he said, “that I have shifted the question from the

mode of egress to that of ingress. It was my design to convey the

idea that both were effected in the same manner, at the same point.

Let us now revert to the interior of the room. Let us survey the

appearances here. The drawers of the