The commissioner shrugged his shoulders, bowed to the departing visitor, and then turned without an answer to some documents on his desk. There was silence in the room for a few moments. Finally a gentle voice came from Muller's corner again: "Dr. von Riedau?"The commissioner raised his head and looked around. "Oh, are you still there?" he asked with a drawl.
Muller knew what this drawl meant. It was the manner adopted by the amiable commissioner when he was in a mood which was not amiable.
And Muller knew also the cause of the mood. It was his own last remark, the words he addressed to Bormann. Muller himself recognised the fact that this remark was out of place, that it was almost an impertinence, because it was in direct contradiction to a statement made a few moments before by his superior officer. Also he realised that his remark had been quite unnecessary, because it was a matter of indifference to the young man, who was only obeying his employer's orders in reporting what he had seen, whether his report was of value or not. Muller had simply uttered aloud the thought that came into his mind, a habit of his which years of official training had not yet succeeded in breaking. It was annoying to himself sometimes, for these half-formed thoughts were mere instinct - they were the workings of his own genius that made him catch a suspicion of the truth long before his conscious mind could reason it out or appreciate its value. But that sort of thing was not popular in official police life.
"Well," asked the commissioner, as Muller did not continue, "your tongue is not usually so slow - as you have proved just a few moments back - what were you going to say now?""I was about to ask your pardon for my interruption. It was unnecessary, I should not have said it.""Well, I realise that you know better yourself," said Riedau, now quite friendly again, "and now what else have you to say? Do you really think that what the young man has just told us is of any value at all for this case?""It seems to me as if it might be of value to us.""Oh, it seems to you, eh? Your imagination is working overtime again, Muller," said the commissioner with a laugh. But the laugh turned to seriousness as he realised how many times Muller's imagination had helped the clumsy official mind to its proudest triumphs. The commissioner was an intelligent man, as far as his lights went, and he was a good-hearted man. He rose from his chair and walked over to where the detective stood. "You needn't look so embarrassed, Muller," he said. "There is no cause for you to feel bad about it. And - I am quite willing to admit that my remark just now was unnecessary. You may give your imagination full rein, we can trust to your intelligence and your devotion to duty to keep it from unnecessary flights. So curbed, I know it will be of as much assistance to us this time as it always has been."Muller's quiet face lit up, and his eyes shone in a happiness that made him appear ten years younger. That was one of the strange things about Joseph Muller. This genius in his profession was in all other ways a man of such simplicity of heart and bearing, that the slightest word of approval from one of the officials for whom he worked could make him as happy as praise from the teacher will make a schoolboy. The moments when he was in command of any difficult case, when these same superiors would wait for a word from him, when high officials would take his orders or would be obliged to acknowledge that without him they were helpless, these moments were forgotten as soon as the problem was solved and Muller became again the simple subordinate and the obscure member of the Imperial police force.
When Muller left the commissioner's room and walked through the outer office, one of the clerks looked after him and whispered to his companion: "Do you think he's found the Hietzing murderer yet?"The other answered: "I don't think so, but he looks as if he had found a clue. He'll find him sooner or later. He always does."Muller did not hear these words, although they also would have pleased him. He walked slowly down the stairs murmuring to himself:
"I think I was right just the same. We are following a false trail."
