"I never saw her.The only way I knew about her was when the Professor's friends spoke of her.""Did he have many friends?"
"There were ever so many gentlemen whom he called his friends.""Take me into the garden now."
"Yes, sir." Muller took his hat and coat and followed the valet into the garden.It was of considerable size, carefully and attractively planned, and pleasing even now when the bare twigs bent under their load of snow.
"Now think carefully, Johann.We had a full moon last night.Don't you remember seeing any footsteps in the garden, leading away from the house?" asked Muller, as they stood on the snow-covered paths.
Johann thought it over carefully, then said decidedly, "No.At least I don't remember anything of the kind.There was a strong wind yesterday anyway, and the snow drifts easily out here.No tracks could remain clear for long."The men walked down the straight path which led to the little gate in the high wall.This gate had a secret lock, which, however, was neither hard to find nor hard to open.Muller managed it with ease, and looked out through the gate on the street beyond.The broad promenade, deserted now in its winter snowiness, led away in one direction to the heart of the city.In the other it ended in the main county high-road.This was a broad, well-made turnpike, with footpath and rows of trees.A half-hour's walk along it would bring one to the little village clustering about the Archduke's favourite hunting castle.There was a little railway station near the castle, but it was used only by suburban trains or for the royal private car.
Muller did not intend to burden his brain with unnecessary facts, so with his usual thoroughness he left the further investigation of what lay beyond the gate, until he had searched the garden thoroughly.
But even for his sharp eyes there was no trace to be found that would tell of the night visit of the murderer.
"In which of the pails did you put the key to the side door?" he asked.
"In the first pail on the right hand side.But be careful, sir;there's a nail sticking out of the post there.The wind tore off a piece of wood yesterday."The warning came too late.Muller's sleeve tore apart with a sharp sound just as Johann spoke, for the detective had already plunged his hand into the pail.The bottom of the bucket was easy to reach, as this one hung much lower than the others.Looking regretfully at the rent in his coat, Muller asked for needle and thread that he might repair it sufficiently to get home.
"Oh, don't bother about sewing it; I'll lend you one of mine,"exclaimed Johann."I'll carry this one home for you, for I'm not going to stay here alone - I'd be afraid.I'm going to a friend's house.You can find me there any time you need me.You'd better take the key of the apartment and give it to the police."The detective had no particular fondness for the task of sewing, and he was glad to accept the valet's friendly offering.He was rather astonished at the evident costliness of the garment the young man handed him, and when he spoke of it, the valet could not say enough in praise of the kindness of his late master.He pulled out several other articles of clothing, which, like the overcoat, had been given to him by Fellner.Then he packed up a few necessities and announced himself as ready to start.He insisted on carrying the torn coat, and Muller permitted it after some protest.They carefully closed the apartment and the house, and walked toward the centre of the city to the police station, where Muller lived.
As they crossed the square, it suddenly occurred to Johann that he had no tobacco.He was a great smoker, and as he had many days of enforced idleness ahead of him, he ran into a tobacco shop to purchase a sufficiency of this necessity of life.
Muller waited outside, and his attention was attracted by a large grey Ulmer hound which was evidently waiting for some one within the shop.The dog came up to him in a most friendly manner, allowed him to pat its head, rubbed up against him with every sign of pleasure, and would not leave him even when he turned to go after Johann came out of the shop.Still accompanied by the dog, the two men walked on quite a distance, when a sharp whistle was heard behind them, and the dog became uneasy.He would not leave them, however, until a powerful voice called "Tristan!" several times.
Muller turned and saw that Tristan's master was a tall, stately man wearing a handsome fur overcoat.
It was impossible to recognise his face at this distance, for the snowflakes were whirling thickly in the air.But Muller was not particularly anxious to recognise the stranger, as he had his head full of more important thoughts.
When Johann had given his new address and remarked that he would call for his coat soon, the men parted, and Muller returned to the police station.
The next day the principal newspaper of the town printed the following notice:
