November 22, 2024 • 32 mins
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:02):
Hi, this is Stefania at positive informations and audio stories,
bringing you happy thoughts, inspiration, motivation and entertainment to start
today or send you off into a relaxing, healing sleep.
With our sleep stories, we use the power of positive
words to help you live the positive, uplifting lifestyle that
(00:25):
you deserve. And now we continue with our sleep story
series the next chapter of the problems of Violet Strange.
This is problem number three. An intangible clue our story begins.
(01:15):
Have you studied the case not? I not studied the
case for which, for the last few days has provided
the papers with such conspicuous headlines. I do not read
the papers. I have not looked at one in a
whole week, Miss Strange, your social engagements must be of
(01:35):
a very pressing nature just now they are, and your
business sense in abeyance. How so you would not ask
if you had read the papers. To this, she made
no reply, save by a slight toss of her pretty head.
If her employer felt nettled by this show of indifference,
(01:58):
he did not betray it, save by the rapidity of
his tones. As without further preamble, and possibly without real excuse,
he proceeded to lay before her the case in question.
Last Tuesday night, a woman was murdered in this city,
an old woman in a lonely house where she has
lived for years. Perhaps you remember this house. It occupies
(02:23):
a not inconspicuous sight in seventeenth Street, a house of
the olden time. Now I do not remember. The extreme
carelessness of Miss Stranger's tone would have been fatal to
her socially, but then she would never have used it socially.
This they both knew. Yet he smiled with his customary indulgence.
(02:46):
Then I will describe it. She looked around for a
chair and sank into it. He did the same. It
has a fan light over the front door she remained
in passive, and two old fashioned strips of PARTI colored
glass on either side, and a knocker between its panels,
(03:07):
which may bring money some day. Oh you do remember,
I thought you would, Miss Strange. Yes, van lights over
doors are becoming very rare in New York, very well.
Then that house was the scene of Tuesday's tragedy. The
woman who has lived there in solitude for years, was
(03:29):
foully murdered. I have since heard that the people who
knew her best have always anticipated some such violent end
for her. She never allowed maid or friend to remain
with her at the five in the afternoon. Yet she
had money, something a great deal, always in the house.
I am interested in the house, not her. Yet she
(03:52):
was a character as full of whims and crutches as
a nut is of meat. And her death was horrible.
She fought, her dress was torn from her body in racks.
This happened, you see, before her hour for retiring, something
as early as six in the afternoon. And here he
(04:13):
made a rapid gesture to catch Violet's wondering attention. In
spite of this chuckle, in spite of the fact that
she was dragged from room to room, that her person
was searched, and everything in the house searched, That the
drawers were pulled out of burreals, doors wrenched off of cupboards,
(04:36):
china smashed upon the floor, whole shells denuded, and not
a spot from cellar to Garrett left untouched, unransacked. No
direct clue to the perpetrate has been found, nothing that
gives any idea of his personality, save his display of
(04:57):
strength and great cupidity. The police have even deigned to
consult me an unusual procedure, but I could find nothing either.
Evidences of fiendish purpose abound of relentless search, but no
clue to the man himself. Is uncommon, isn't it not
(05:19):
to have any clue? I suppose so? Miss Strange hated murderers,
and it was with difficulties she could be brought to
discuss them. But she was not going to be let off,
not this time. You see. He proceeded insistently. Is not
(05:40):
only mortifying to the police, but disappointing to the press,
especially as few reporters believe in the no thoroughfare business.
They say, and we cannot but agree with them, that
no such struggle could take place, and no such repeated
goings and go through the house without some vestige being
(06:03):
left of which to connect this crime with its staring perpetrator.
Still she stared down at her hands, those little hands,
white and fluttering, so seemingly helpless under the weight of
their many rings, and yet so slyly capable. She must
(06:25):
have queer neighbors came at last from Miss Stranger's reluctant lips.
Didn't they hear or see anything of all this? She
has no neighbors, that is, after half past five o'clock.
There's a printing establishment on one side of her, a
(06:47):
deserted mansion on the other side, and nothing but warehouses
front and back. There was no one to notice what
took place in her small dwelling after the printing house
was closed. She was the most courageous or the most
foolish of women to remain there as she did. But
(07:07):
nothing except death could bulch her. She was born in
the room where she died, was married in the one
where she worked. Saw husband, father, mother, and five sisters
carried out in turn to their graves through the door
with the fan light over the top, and these memories
(07:29):
held her. You are trying to interest me in this woman, don't. No,
I'm not trying to interest you in her, only trying
to explain her. There was another reason for her remaining
where she did so long after all residents had left
the block. She had a business. Oh, she embroidered monograms
(07:55):
for fine ladies. She did. But you needn't look at
me like that. She never embroidered any for me. No,
she did first class work. I saw some of it.
Miss Strange. If I could get you into that house
for ten minutes, not to see her, but to pick
(08:17):
up the loose, intangible threat which I am sure is
floating around in is somewhere. Wouldn't you go? Violet slowly rose,
a movement which he followed to the letter. Must I
express in words the limit I have set for myself
(08:37):
in our affair? She asked, when, for reasons I have
never thought myself called upon to explain, I consented to
help you a little now and then with some matter
where a woman's tact and knowledge of the social world
might tell with elephanse to herself or others. I never
(08:59):
thought it would be necessary for me to state that
temptation must stop with such cases, or that I should
not be asked to touch the sordid or the bloody.
But it seems I was mistaken, and that I must
do to be explicit. The woman who was killed on
(09:20):
Tuesday night might have interested me greatly as an embroiderer,
but as a victim not at all. What do you
see in me or miss in me that you should
drag me into an atmosphere of low down crime. Nothing
is strange. You are a nature, as well as by breeding,
(09:42):
very far removed from everything of the kind. But you
will allow me to suggest that no crime is low down,
which makes imperative demand upon the intellect and intuitive sense
of his investigator. Only the most delicate touch can feel
and hold the thread I've just spoken of. And you
(10:04):
have the most delicate touch I know. Do not attempt
to flatter me. I have no fancy for handling befouled spiderwebs. Besides,
if I had, if such elusive filaments fascinated me, how
could I, well known in person and name, enter upon
(10:26):
such a scene without prejudice to our mutual compact? Strange
she had reseated herself, but so far he had failed
to follow her example, and ignoring of the subtle hint
that an interest might yet be caught, which seemed to
annoy her a trifle. I should not even have suggested
(10:50):
such a possibility, had I not seen a way of
introducing you there without risk to your person? Do you
position or mine? Among the boxes piled upon Missus Dolittle's table,
boxes of finished work, most of them addressed and ready
for delivery, was one on which could be seen the
(11:14):
name of Shall I mention it? Not mine? You don't
mean mine? That would be too odd, too ridiculously odd.
I should not understand a coincidence of that kind, No,
I should not, notwithstanding the fact that I have lately
(11:35):
sent out such work to be done. Yet it was
your name, very clearly and precisely written, your whole name,
Miss Strange. I saw and read it myself, But I
gave the order to Madame Pierrot on Fifth Avenue. How
came my things to be found in the house of
(11:58):
this woman of whose horrible yet we have been talking.
Did you suppose that Madame Pirout did such a work
with her own hands, or even had it done in
her own establishment. Missus Tulittle was universally employed. She worked
for a dozen firms. He will find the biggest names
(12:21):
on most of her packages. But on this one I
allude to the one addressed to you, there was more
to be seen than the name. These words were written
on it in another hand send without opening. This struck
(12:44):
the police as suspicious sufficiently, so at least for them
to desire your presence at the house, or as soon
as you can make it convenient to open the box exactly.
The curl of misstrangers thainful lip was a sight to see.
He wrote those words yourself, she coolly observed. While someone's
(13:08):
back was turned. You whipped out your pen and resorted
to a very pardonable subterfuge, highly conducive to the public's good.
But never mind that, will you go? Miss Strange suddenly
became demur, I suppose I must, she grushingly conceded. However,
(13:33):
obtained a summons from the police cannot be ignored, even
by Peter Stranger's daughter. Another man might have displayed his
triumph by smile or gesture, but this one had learned
his role too well. He simply said, very good, shallus
(13:57):
be at once, I have a taxi at the door.
If she failed to see the necessity of any such hurry,
with sudden dignity, she replied, that won't do. If I
go to this house, it must be under suitable conditions.
I shall have to ask my brother to accompany me.
Your brother, are we safe? He he knows, your brother
(14:21):
knows her visitor with less control than usual, betrayed very
openly his uneasiness. He does and approves. But that's not
what interests us now, only so far as it makes
it possible for me to go with propriety to that
dreadful house. A formal ball from the other and the words,
(14:45):
they may expect you, then can you say when within
the next hour? But it would be a useless concession
on my part. She pettisusly complained, a place that has
been gone over by a dozen detectives is apt to
be brushed clean of his cobwebs, even if such ever existed.
(15:07):
That's the difficulty, he acknowledged, and did not dare to
add another word. She was, at that particular moment so
very much the great lady, and so little his confidential agent.
He might have been less impressed, however, by the sudden
assumption of the manner, had he been so fortunate as
(15:30):
to have seen how she employed the three quarters of
an hour's delay for which she had asked. She read
those neglected newspapers, especially the one containing the following highly
colored narration of this ghustly crime. A dower jar, an
(15:52):
empty hole, a line of sinister looking blotches marking up
a guilty step diagonally across the flagging silence, and an
unmistakable odor repugnant to all humanity. Such were the indications
which met the eyes of Officer O'Leary on his first
(16:13):
round last night, and led to the discovery of a
murder which will long thrill the city by its mystery
and horror. Both the house and the victim are well known.
Here followed a description of the same, and of Missus
Dolittle's manner of life in her ancient home, which violently
(16:34):
hurriedly passed over to come to the following. As far
as one can judge from appearance, the crime happened in
this wines. Missus Doolittle had been in her kitchen as
the tea kettle found singing on the stove goes to prove,
and was coming back through her bedroom when the wretch,
who had stolen in by the front door, which to
(16:56):
save steps she was, unfortunately in the habit of leaving
on the latch till all possibilities of customers for the
day was over, sprang upon her from behind and dealt
her a swinging blow with the poker he had caught
up from the hearthstone. Whether the struggle which ensued followed
immediately upon this first attack or came later, it will
(17:19):
take medical experts to determine. But whatever did occur, the
fierceness of his character is shown by the grip taken
upon her throat and the traces of blood, which are
to be seen all over the house. If the wretch
had lugged her into her work room and thence to
the kitchen, and thence back to the spot of the
first assault, the evidences could not have been more ghastly.
(17:43):
Bits of her clothing torn off by Ruth's hand, lay
scattered over all these floors. In her bedroom, where she
finally breathed her last there could be seen, mingled with
these a number of large but worthless glass beads, and
close against one of the baseboards, the string which had
(18:05):
held them, as shown by the few remaining beasts still
clinging to it. If in pulling the string from her
neck he had hoped to light upon some valuable booty,
his fury at his disappointment is evident. You can almost
see the frenzy with which he flung the wood bey
necklace at the wall and kicked about and stamped upon
(18:28):
his rapidly rolling beads. Booty. That was what he was after,
defind and carry away the poor needlewoman's supposed hoardings. If
the scene baffels description, If as some believed, he dragged her,
yet living from spot to spot, demanding information as to
(18:49):
her places of concealment under the threat of repeated blows,
and finally, baffled, felt the finishing stroke and proceeded on
the search alone. No greater devastation could have taken place
in this poor woman's house or effects. Yet such was
(19:13):
his precaution and care for himself, that he left no
fingerprint behind him, nor any other token which could lead
to personal identification. Even though his footsteps could be traced
in much the order I have mentioned, they were of
so indeterminate and shapeless a character as to convey little
(19:36):
to the intelligence of the investigator. That these smears they
could not be called footprints, not only crossed the hall,
but appeared in more than one place on the staircase.
Proves that he did not confine his search to the
lower story. And perhaps one of the most interesting features
(20:00):
of the case lies in the indications given by these
marks of the raging course he took through these upper rooms,
As the accompanying diagram will show. We omit the diagram,
he went first into the large front chamber, thence to
(20:21):
the rear were refined to two rooms, one unfinished and
filled with accumulated stuff, most of which he left lying
loose upon the floor, and the other plastered and contained
a window opening upon an alley way at the side,
but empty of all furniture, without even a carpet on
(20:43):
the bare boards. Why he should have entered the latter place,
and why having entered, he should have crossed to the window,
will be plain to those who have studied the conditions.
The front chamber windows were s tightly shuttered, the attic
(21:07):
ones cumbered with boxes and shielded from approach by old
bureaus and discarded chairs. This one only was free, and,
although darkened by the proximity of the house neighboring it
across the alley, was the only spot on the story
(21:27):
where sufficient light could be had at this late hour
for the examination of any object of whose value. He
was doubtful that he had come across such an object
and had brought it to this window for some such
purpose is very satisfactorily demonstrated by the discovery of a
(21:49):
worn out wallet of ancient make lying on the floor
directly in front of this window, a proof of his cupidity,
but also proof of his ill luck, for this wallet,
when lifted and opened, was found to contain two hundred
(22:11):
or more dollars in old bills, which, if not the
full hoarde of their industrious owner, was certainly worth the
taking by one who had risk his neck for the
sole purpose of theft. This wallet, and the flight of
the murderer without it, gives to this affair otherwise simply brutal,
(22:35):
a dramatic interest which would be appreciated not only by
their very able detectives, already hot upon the case, but
by all other inquiring minds anxious to solve a mystery
of which so estimable a woman has been the unfortunate
victim a problem is presented to the police. There Violet stopped. When,
(23:04):
not long after the superb limousine of Peter Strange stopped
before the little house in seventeenth Street, It caused a
veritable sensation, not only in the curiosity amongers lingering on
the sidewalk, but also to the two persons within, the
officer on guard and a related reporter. Though dressed in
(23:27):
her plainest suit, Violet Strange looked much too fashionable and
far too young and thoughtless to be observed without emotion
entering a scene of hideous and brutal crime. Even the
young man who accompanied her promise to bring a most
incongruitious element into this atmosphere of guilt and horror, And,
(23:50):
as the detective on guard whispered to the man beside him,
might much better have been left behind in the car.
But Violet was great for proprieties, and young Arthur Falter
in her entrance was a coup du theatra. She litered
(24:11):
her veil in crossing the sidewalk, and her interesting features
and general air of timidity were very fetching. As the
man holding opened the door noted the impression made upon
his companion, he muttered, with sly facetiousness, you think you'll
show her nothing, when I'm ready to bet a fiver
(24:32):
that she'll want to see it all, and that you'll
show it to her. The detective's grin was expressive, notwithstanding
the shrug with which she tried to carry it off,
and Violet, the hole into which she now stepped from
the most vivid sunlight, had never been considered, even in
(24:52):
his palmiest days, as possessing cheer, even of the stately kind.
The ghostly green light in you used to do it
by the cood glass on either side of the doorway
seemed to promise yet more dismal things beyond. Must I
go in there? She asked, pointing with an admirable simulation
(25:14):
of nervous excitement, to a half shut door at her left.
Is there where it happened? Arthur? Do you suppose that
there is where it happened? No? No, miss, the officer
made haste to assure her. If you are miss Strange
Violet bowed, I need hardly say that this woman was
(25:36):
struck in her bedroom. The door beside you leads into
the parlor, or, as she would have called it, her
work room. You needn't be afraid of going in there.
You will see nothing but the disorder of her boxes.
They were pretty well pulled about. Not all of them, though,
he added, watching her as closely as the dim light permitted.
(25:57):
There is one which gives no sign of having been
tampred with. It was done in wrapping paper, and is
addressed to you, which in itself would not have seen
worthy of our attension, had not these lines been scrupled
on it in a man's handwriting. Send without opening, how odd,
(26:21):
exclaimed the little minx, with widely open eyes and an
air of guileless innocence. Whatever can it mean? Nothing serious?
I am sure for the woman did not even know me.
She was employed to do this work by Madame Pierrot.
Didn't you know that it was to be done here? No?
(26:42):
I thought Madame Perou's own girls did her embroidery for her,
so that you were surprised. Wasn't I to get our message?
I didn't know what to make of it. The earnest
half injured look with which she uttered this disclaimer did
disappointed work. The detective accepted her for what she seemed, and,
(27:03):
oblivious to the reporter's satirical gesture, crossed to the work
room door, which she threw wide open, with the remark,
I should be glad to have you open that box
in our presence. It is undoubtedly all right, but we
wish to be sure you know what that box shook
and pain. Oh yes, indeed, pillow cases and sheets with
(27:24):
a big S embroidered on them. Very well? Shall I
undo the string for you? I shall be much obliged,
said she, her eye flashing quickly about the room, before
settling down upon the knot he was toughly listening. Her brother,
gazing indifferently in from the doorway, hardly noticed this look,
(27:46):
but the reporter at his back did, though he failed
to detect his penetrating quality. Your name is on the
other side, observed the detective as he drew away the
string and turned the package over. The smile, which just
lifted the corner of her lips, was not in answer
to this remark, but to her recognition of her employer's
(28:09):
handwriting in the words under her name send without opening.
She had not misjudged him the cover you may like
to take off yourself, suggested the officer, as he lifted
the box out of his wrapper. Oh, I don't mind,
there's nothing to be ashamed of an embroidered linen. Or
(28:31):
perhaps that is not what you are looking for. No
one answered, All were busy watching her whip off the
lid and lift out the pile of sheets and pillow
cases with which the box was closely packed. Shall I
unfold them? She asked. The detective nodded. Taking out the
topmost sheet, she shook it open to the next, and
(28:55):
the next, till she reached the bottom of the box.
Nothing of a criminal nature came to light. The box,
as well as his contents, was without mystery of any kind.
This was not an unexpected result, of course, but the
smile with which she began to refold the pieces and
throw them back into the box. Revealed one of her dimples,
(29:17):
which was almost as dangerous to the casual observer as
will it revealed both. There, she exclaimed, you see how
sold linen exactly as I said. Now, may I go home? Certainly,
miss Strange. The detective stole a sly glance at the reporter.
(29:37):
She was not going in for the horrors then, after all,
But the reporter abated nothing of his gnawing air. But
when she spoke of going, she made no move towards
doing so, but continued to look about the room to
her glances. Finally settled on a long dark curtain shutting
(29:58):
off an adjoining room. That's where she lies, I suppose,
she feelingly exclaimed, And not one of you knows who
killed her. Somehow I cannot understand that. Why don't you
know when that's what you're hired for. The innocence with
which she uttered this was astonishing. The detective began to
(30:21):
look sheepish, and the reporter turned aside to hide a smile.
Whether in another moment either would have spoken, no one
can say, for with the mock consciousness of having said
something foolish, she caught up with her parasol from the
table and made a start for the door, But of
(30:41):
course she looked back. I was wondering, she recommenced, with
a half wistful, half speculative air, whether I should ask
to have a peep at the place where it all happened. Oh,
(31:11):
and that's it for this part of the Violet Strange story.
She's really playing them, isn't she. If you like to
find out, is she going to get into the room?
(31:31):
Of course she will. But what will she find? You'll
find out, hopefully in the next episode. We'll be back
next week with the next part. See you then, have
a wonderful sleep, and just remember this podcast is available
(31:52):
on all major platforms and apps. If you fancy, feel
free to share this with your family, dear friends, with everyone,
and do visit our coffee page. You'll find the url
in the show notes, where you can find inspiration, videos
and artwork. We'll see you again next week. Take care,
(32:20):
be well, sleep well bye for now.
Hi, this is Stefania at positive informations and audio stories,
bringing you happy thoughts, inspiration, motivation and entertainment to start
today or send you off into a relaxing, healing sleep.
With our sleep stories, we use the power of positive
words to help you live the positive, uplifting lifestyle that
(00:25):
you deserve. And now we continue with our sleep story
series the next chapter of the problems of Violet Strange.
This is problem number three. An intangible clue our story begins.
(01:15):
Have you studied the case not? I not studied the
case for which, for the last few days has provided
the papers with such conspicuous headlines. I do not read
the papers. I have not looked at one in a
whole week, Miss Strange, your social engagements must be of
(01:35):
a very pressing nature just now they are, and your
business sense in abeyance. How so you would not ask
if you had read the papers. To this, she made
no reply, save by a slight toss of her pretty head.
If her employer felt nettled by this show of indifference,
(01:58):
he did not betray it, save by the rapidity of
his tones. As without further preamble, and possibly without real excuse,
he proceeded to lay before her the case in question.
Last Tuesday night, a woman was murdered in this city,
an old woman in a lonely house where she has
lived for years. Perhaps you remember this house. It occupies
(02:23):
a not inconspicuous sight in seventeenth Street, a house of
the olden time. Now I do not remember. The extreme
carelessness of Miss Stranger's tone would have been fatal to
her socially, but then she would never have used it socially.
This they both knew. Yet he smiled with his customary indulgence.
(02:46):
Then I will describe it. She looked around for a
chair and sank into it. He did the same. It
has a fan light over the front door she remained
in passive, and two old fashioned strips of PARTI colored
glass on either side, and a knocker between its panels,
(03:07):
which may bring money some day. Oh you do remember,
I thought you would, Miss Strange. Yes, van lights over
doors are becoming very rare in New York, very well.
Then that house was the scene of Tuesday's tragedy. The
woman who has lived there in solitude for years, was
(03:29):
foully murdered. I have since heard that the people who
knew her best have always anticipated some such violent end
for her. She never allowed maid or friend to remain
with her at the five in the afternoon. Yet she
had money, something a great deal, always in the house.
I am interested in the house, not her. Yet she
(03:52):
was a character as full of whims and crutches as
a nut is of meat. And her death was horrible.
She fought, her dress was torn from her body in racks.
This happened, you see, before her hour for retiring, something
as early as six in the afternoon. And here he
(04:13):
made a rapid gesture to catch Violet's wondering attention. In
spite of this chuckle, in spite of the fact that
she was dragged from room to room, that her person
was searched, and everything in the house searched, That the
drawers were pulled out of burreals, doors wrenched off of cupboards,
(04:36):
china smashed upon the floor, whole shells denuded, and not
a spot from cellar to Garrett left untouched, unransacked. No
direct clue to the perpetrate has been found, nothing that
gives any idea of his personality, save his display of
(04:57):
strength and great cupidity. The police have even deigned to
consult me an unusual procedure, but I could find nothing either.
Evidences of fiendish purpose abound of relentless search, but no
clue to the man himself. Is uncommon, isn't it not
(05:19):
to have any clue? I suppose so? Miss Strange hated murderers,
and it was with difficulties she could be brought to
discuss them. But she was not going to be let off,
not this time. You see. He proceeded insistently. Is not
(05:40):
only mortifying to the police, but disappointing to the press,
especially as few reporters believe in the no thoroughfare business.
They say, and we cannot but agree with them, that
no such struggle could take place, and no such repeated
goings and go through the house without some vestige being
(06:03):
left of which to connect this crime with its staring perpetrator.
Still she stared down at her hands, those little hands,
white and fluttering, so seemingly helpless under the weight of
their many rings, and yet so slyly capable. She must
(06:25):
have queer neighbors came at last from Miss Stranger's reluctant lips.
Didn't they hear or see anything of all this? She
has no neighbors, that is, after half past five o'clock.
There's a printing establishment on one side of her, a
(06:47):
deserted mansion on the other side, and nothing but warehouses
front and back. There was no one to notice what
took place in her small dwelling after the printing house
was closed. She was the most courageous or the most
foolish of women to remain there as she did. But
(07:07):
nothing except death could bulch her. She was born in
the room where she died, was married in the one
where she worked. Saw husband, father, mother, and five sisters
carried out in turn to their graves through the door
with the fan light over the top, and these memories
(07:29):
held her. You are trying to interest me in this woman, don't. No,
I'm not trying to interest you in her, only trying
to explain her. There was another reason for her remaining
where she did so long after all residents had left
the block. She had a business. Oh, she embroidered monograms
(07:55):
for fine ladies. She did. But you needn't look at
me like that. She never embroidered any for me. No,
she did first class work. I saw some of it.
Miss Strange. If I could get you into that house
for ten minutes, not to see her, but to pick
(08:17):
up the loose, intangible threat which I am sure is
floating around in is somewhere. Wouldn't you go? Violet slowly rose,
a movement which he followed to the letter. Must I
express in words the limit I have set for myself
(08:37):
in our affair? She asked, when, for reasons I have
never thought myself called upon to explain, I consented to
help you a little now and then with some matter
where a woman's tact and knowledge of the social world
might tell with elephanse to herself or others. I never
(08:59):
thought it would be necessary for me to state that
temptation must stop with such cases, or that I should
not be asked to touch the sordid or the bloody.
But it seems I was mistaken, and that I must
do to be explicit. The woman who was killed on
(09:20):
Tuesday night might have interested me greatly as an embroiderer,
but as a victim not at all. What do you
see in me or miss in me that you should
drag me into an atmosphere of low down crime. Nothing
is strange. You are a nature, as well as by breeding,
(09:42):
very far removed from everything of the kind. But you
will allow me to suggest that no crime is low down,
which makes imperative demand upon the intellect and intuitive sense
of his investigator. Only the most delicate touch can feel
and hold the thread I've just spoken of. And you
(10:04):
have the most delicate touch I know. Do not attempt
to flatter me. I have no fancy for handling befouled spiderwebs. Besides,
if I had, if such elusive filaments fascinated me, how
could I, well known in person and name, enter upon
(10:26):
such a scene without prejudice to our mutual compact? Strange
she had reseated herself, but so far he had failed
to follow her example, and ignoring of the subtle hint
that an interest might yet be caught, which seemed to
annoy her a trifle. I should not even have suggested
(10:50):
such a possibility, had I not seen a way of
introducing you there without risk to your person? Do you
position or mine? Among the boxes piled upon Missus Dolittle's table,
boxes of finished work, most of them addressed and ready
for delivery, was one on which could be seen the
(11:14):
name of Shall I mention it? Not mine? You don't
mean mine? That would be too odd, too ridiculously odd.
I should not understand a coincidence of that kind, No,
I should not, notwithstanding the fact that I have lately
(11:35):
sent out such work to be done. Yet it was
your name, very clearly and precisely written, your whole name,
Miss Strange. I saw and read it myself, But I
gave the order to Madame Pierrot on Fifth Avenue. How
came my things to be found in the house of
(11:58):
this woman of whose horrible yet we have been talking.
Did you suppose that Madame Pirout did such a work
with her own hands, or even had it done in
her own establishment. Missus Tulittle was universally employed. She worked
for a dozen firms. He will find the biggest names
(12:21):
on most of her packages. But on this one I
allude to the one addressed to you, there was more
to be seen than the name. These words were written
on it in another hand send without opening. This struck
(12:44):
the police as suspicious sufficiently, so at least for them
to desire your presence at the house, or as soon
as you can make it convenient to open the box exactly.
The curl of misstrangers thainful lip was a sight to see.
He wrote those words yourself, she coolly observed. While someone's
(13:08):
back was turned. You whipped out your pen and resorted
to a very pardonable subterfuge, highly conducive to the public's good.
But never mind that, will you go? Miss Strange suddenly
became demur, I suppose I must, she grushingly conceded. However,
(13:33):
obtained a summons from the police cannot be ignored, even
by Peter Stranger's daughter. Another man might have displayed his
triumph by smile or gesture, but this one had learned
his role too well. He simply said, very good, shallus
(13:57):
be at once, I have a taxi at the door.
If she failed to see the necessity of any such hurry,
with sudden dignity, she replied, that won't do. If I
go to this house, it must be under suitable conditions.
I shall have to ask my brother to accompany me.
Your brother, are we safe? He he knows, your brother
(14:21):
knows her visitor with less control than usual, betrayed very
openly his uneasiness. He does and approves. But that's not
what interests us now, only so far as it makes
it possible for me to go with propriety to that
dreadful house. A formal ball from the other and the words,
(14:45):
they may expect you, then can you say when within
the next hour? But it would be a useless concession
on my part. She pettisusly complained, a place that has
been gone over by a dozen detectives is apt to
be brushed clean of his cobwebs, even if such ever existed.
(15:07):
That's the difficulty, he acknowledged, and did not dare to
add another word. She was, at that particular moment so
very much the great lady, and so little his confidential agent.
He might have been less impressed, however, by the sudden
assumption of the manner, had he been so fortunate as
(15:30):
to have seen how she employed the three quarters of
an hour's delay for which she had asked. She read
those neglected newspapers, especially the one containing the following highly
colored narration of this ghustly crime. A dower jar, an
(15:52):
empty hole, a line of sinister looking blotches marking up
a guilty step diagonally across the flagging silence, and an
unmistakable odor repugnant to all humanity. Such were the indications
which met the eyes of Officer O'Leary on his first
(16:13):
round last night, and led to the discovery of a
murder which will long thrill the city by its mystery
and horror. Both the house and the victim are well known.
Here followed a description of the same, and of Missus
Dolittle's manner of life in her ancient home, which violently
(16:34):
hurriedly passed over to come to the following. As far
as one can judge from appearance, the crime happened in
this wines. Missus Doolittle had been in her kitchen as
the tea kettle found singing on the stove goes to prove,
and was coming back through her bedroom when the wretch,
who had stolen in by the front door, which to
(16:56):
save steps she was, unfortunately in the habit of leaving
on the latch till all possibilities of customers for the
day was over, sprang upon her from behind and dealt
her a swinging blow with the poker he had caught
up from the hearthstone. Whether the struggle which ensued followed
immediately upon this first attack or came later, it will
(17:19):
take medical experts to determine. But whatever did occur, the
fierceness of his character is shown by the grip taken
upon her throat and the traces of blood, which are
to be seen all over the house. If the wretch
had lugged her into her work room and thence to
the kitchen, and thence back to the spot of the
first assault, the evidences could not have been more ghastly.
(17:43):
Bits of her clothing torn off by Ruth's hand, lay
scattered over all these floors. In her bedroom, where she
finally breathed her last there could be seen, mingled with
these a number of large but worthless glass beads, and
close against one of the baseboards, the string which had
(18:05):
held them, as shown by the few remaining beasts still
clinging to it. If in pulling the string from her
neck he had hoped to light upon some valuable booty,
his fury at his disappointment is evident. You can almost
see the frenzy with which he flung the wood bey
necklace at the wall and kicked about and stamped upon
(18:28):
his rapidly rolling beads. Booty. That was what he was after,
defind and carry away the poor needlewoman's supposed hoardings. If
the scene baffels description, If as some believed, he dragged her,
yet living from spot to spot, demanding information as to
(18:49):
her places of concealment under the threat of repeated blows,
and finally, baffled, felt the finishing stroke and proceeded on
the search alone. No greater devastation could have taken place
in this poor woman's house or effects. Yet such was
(19:13):
his precaution and care for himself, that he left no
fingerprint behind him, nor any other token which could lead
to personal identification. Even though his footsteps could be traced
in much the order I have mentioned, they were of
so indeterminate and shapeless a character as to convey little
(19:36):
to the intelligence of the investigator. That these smears they
could not be called footprints, not only crossed the hall,
but appeared in more than one place on the staircase.
Proves that he did not confine his search to the
lower story. And perhaps one of the most interesting features
(20:00):
of the case lies in the indications given by these
marks of the raging course he took through these upper rooms,
As the accompanying diagram will show. We omit the diagram,
he went first into the large front chamber, thence to
(20:21):
the rear were refined to two rooms, one unfinished and
filled with accumulated stuff, most of which he left lying
loose upon the floor, and the other plastered and contained
a window opening upon an alley way at the side,
but empty of all furniture, without even a carpet on
(20:43):
the bare boards. Why he should have entered the latter place,
and why having entered, he should have crossed to the window,
will be plain to those who have studied the conditions.
The front chamber windows were s tightly shuttered, the attic
(21:07):
ones cumbered with boxes and shielded from approach by old
bureaus and discarded chairs. This one only was free, and,
although darkened by the proximity of the house neighboring it
across the alley, was the only spot on the story
(21:27):
where sufficient light could be had at this late hour
for the examination of any object of whose value. He
was doubtful that he had come across such an object
and had brought it to this window for some such
purpose is very satisfactorily demonstrated by the discovery of a
(21:49):
worn out wallet of ancient make lying on the floor
directly in front of this window, a proof of his cupidity,
but also proof of his ill luck, for this wallet,
when lifted and opened, was found to contain two hundred
(22:11):
or more dollars in old bills, which, if not the
full hoarde of their industrious owner, was certainly worth the
taking by one who had risk his neck for the
sole purpose of theft. This wallet, and the flight of
the murderer without it, gives to this affair otherwise simply brutal,
(22:35):
a dramatic interest which would be appreciated not only by
their very able detectives, already hot upon the case, but
by all other inquiring minds anxious to solve a mystery
of which so estimable a woman has been the unfortunate
victim a problem is presented to the police. There Violet stopped. When,
(23:04):
not long after the superb limousine of Peter Strange stopped
before the little house in seventeenth Street, It caused a
veritable sensation, not only in the curiosity amongers lingering on
the sidewalk, but also to the two persons within, the
officer on guard and a related reporter. Though dressed in
(23:27):
her plainest suit, Violet Strange looked much too fashionable and
far too young and thoughtless to be observed without emotion
entering a scene of hideous and brutal crime. Even the
young man who accompanied her promise to bring a most
incongruitious element into this atmosphere of guilt and horror, And,
(23:50):
as the detective on guard whispered to the man beside him,
might much better have been left behind in the car.
But Violet was great for proprieties, and young Arthur Falter
in her entrance was a coup du theatra. She litered
(24:11):
her veil in crossing the sidewalk, and her interesting features
and general air of timidity were very fetching. As the
man holding opened the door noted the impression made upon
his companion, he muttered, with sly facetiousness, you think you'll
show her nothing, when I'm ready to bet a fiver
(24:32):
that she'll want to see it all, and that you'll
show it to her. The detective's grin was expressive, notwithstanding
the shrug with which she tried to carry it off,
and Violet, the hole into which she now stepped from
the most vivid sunlight, had never been considered, even in
(24:52):
his palmiest days, as possessing cheer, even of the stately kind.
The ghostly green light in you used to do it
by the cood glass on either side of the doorway
seemed to promise yet more dismal things beyond. Must I
go in there? She asked, pointing with an admirable simulation
(25:14):
of nervous excitement, to a half shut door at her left.
Is there where it happened? Arthur? Do you suppose that
there is where it happened? No? No, miss, the officer
made haste to assure her. If you are miss Strange
Violet bowed, I need hardly say that this woman was
(25:36):
struck in her bedroom. The door beside you leads into
the parlor, or, as she would have called it, her
work room. You needn't be afraid of going in there.
You will see nothing but the disorder of her boxes.
They were pretty well pulled about. Not all of them, though,
he added, watching her as closely as the dim light permitted.
(25:57):
There is one which gives no sign of having been
tampred with. It was done in wrapping paper, and is
addressed to you, which in itself would not have seen
worthy of our attension, had not these lines been scrupled
on it in a man's handwriting. Send without opening, how odd,
(26:21):
exclaimed the little minx, with widely open eyes and an
air of guileless innocence. Whatever can it mean? Nothing serious?
I am sure for the woman did not even know me.
She was employed to do this work by Madame Pierrot.
Didn't you know that it was to be done here? No?
(26:42):
I thought Madame Perou's own girls did her embroidery for her,
so that you were surprised. Wasn't I to get our message?
I didn't know what to make of it. The earnest
half injured look with which she uttered this disclaimer did
disappointed work. The detective accepted her for what she seemed, and,
(27:03):
oblivious to the reporter's satirical gesture, crossed to the work
room door, which she threw wide open, with the remark,
I should be glad to have you open that box
in our presence. It is undoubtedly all right, but we
wish to be sure you know what that box shook
and pain. Oh yes, indeed, pillow cases and sheets with
(27:24):
a big S embroidered on them. Very well? Shall I
undo the string for you? I shall be much obliged,
said she, her eye flashing quickly about the room, before
settling down upon the knot he was toughly listening. Her brother,
gazing indifferently in from the doorway, hardly noticed this look,
(27:46):
but the reporter at his back did, though he failed
to detect his penetrating quality. Your name is on the
other side, observed the detective as he drew away the
string and turned the package over. The smile, which just
lifted the corner of her lips, was not in answer
to this remark, but to her recognition of her employer's
(28:09):
handwriting in the words under her name send without opening.
She had not misjudged him the cover you may like
to take off yourself, suggested the officer, as he lifted
the box out of his wrapper. Oh, I don't mind,
there's nothing to be ashamed of an embroidered linen. Or
(28:31):
perhaps that is not what you are looking for. No
one answered, All were busy watching her whip off the
lid and lift out the pile of sheets and pillow
cases with which the box was closely packed. Shall I
unfold them? She asked. The detective nodded. Taking out the
topmost sheet, she shook it open to the next, and
(28:55):
the next, till she reached the bottom of the box.
Nothing of a criminal nature came to light. The box,
as well as his contents, was without mystery of any kind.
This was not an unexpected result, of course, but the
smile with which she began to refold the pieces and
throw them back into the box. Revealed one of her dimples,
(29:17):
which was almost as dangerous to the casual observer as
will it revealed both. There, she exclaimed, you see how
sold linen exactly as I said. Now, may I go home? Certainly,
miss Strange. The detective stole a sly glance at the reporter.
(29:37):
She was not going in for the horrors then, after all,
But the reporter abated nothing of his gnawing air. But
when she spoke of going, she made no move towards
doing so, but continued to look about the room to
her glances. Finally settled on a long dark curtain shutting
(29:58):
off an adjoining room. That's where she lies, I suppose,
she feelingly exclaimed, And not one of you knows who
killed her. Somehow I cannot understand that. Why don't you
know when that's what you're hired for. The innocence with
which she uttered this was astonishing. The detective began to
(30:21):
look sheepish, and the reporter turned aside to hide a smile.
Whether in another moment either would have spoken, no one
can say, for with the mock consciousness of having said
something foolish, she caught up with her parasol from the
table and made a start for the door, But of
(30:41):
course she looked back. I was wondering, she recommenced, with
a half wistful, half speculative air, whether I should ask
to have a peep at the place where it all happened. Oh,
(31:11):
and that's it for this part of the Violet Strange story.
She's really playing them, isn't she. If you like to
find out, is she going to get into the room?
(31:31):
Of course she will. But what will she find? You'll
find out, hopefully in the next episode. We'll be back
next week with the next part. See you then, have
a wonderful sleep, and just remember this podcast is available
(31:52):
on all major platforms and apps. If you fancy, feel
free to share this with your family, dear friends, with everyone,
and do visit our coffee page. You'll find the url
in the show notes, where you can find inspiration, videos
and artwork. We'll see you again next week. Take care,
(32:20):
be well, sleep well bye for now.
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