He glanced, too, at the pen lying on a page
of "Martin Zeda" near the lamp and at the inky splash which told how
hastily the pen had been dropped.
Then--his brows drawn together--he stooped to the body of the murdered
woman. Partially raising the fur cloak, he suppressed a gasp of
astonishment.
"Why! she only wears a silk night-dress, and a pair of suede slippers!"
He glanced back over his shoulder.
"I had noted that," said Cumberly. "The whole business is utterly
extraordinary."
"Extraordinary is no word for it!" growled the inspector, pursuing his
examination.... "Marks of pressure at the throat--yes; and generally
unhealthy appearance."
"Due to the drug habit," interjected Dr. Cumberly.
"What drug?"
"I should not like to say out of hand; possibly morphine."
"No jewelry," continued the detective, musingly; "wedding ring--not a
new one. Finger nails well cared for, but recently neglected. Hair dyed
to hide gray patches; dye wanted renewing. Shoes, French. Night-robe,
silk; good lace; probably French, also. Faint perfume--don't know what
it is--apparently proceeding from civet fur. Furs, magnificent; very
costly."...
He slightly moved the table-lamp in order to direct its light upon
the white face. The bloodless lips were parted and the detective bent,
closely peering at the teeth thus revealed.
Pages:
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49