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Updated: June 20, 2025
Why he had sent in to Vantine a card not his own, and what his business with Vantine had been, were details concerning which the police could offer no theory, and which I did not feel called upon to explain, since neither in any way made clearer the mystery of his death. An amusing incident of the inquest was the attempt made by Goldberger to heckle Godfrey, evidently at Grady's suggestion.
The coroner opened it, read the line, and stared at the impassive Mahbub, who stood beside his master with folded arms, staring over the heads of the crowd. "In other words," said Goldberger, slowly, "your attendant is a Thug." The yogi bowed. "Yes," he said, calmly; "Mahbub is Thuggee." A shiver ran through the crowd, like a gust of wind across a field of wheat.
Thus reminded, Goldberger fell to work looking through the dead man's pockets. The clothes were of a cheap material and not very new, so that, in life, he must have presented an appearance somewhat shabby.
Swain attempted to take me away from him, not knowing, at first, who it was had seized me; but I pushed him back and led my father away toward the house." "Did Mr. Swain touch your father?" "No; I was between them all the time. I was determined that they should not touch each other. I was afraid, if they came together, that something terrible would happen." Goldberger glanced at me.
"Goldberger was right in one thing," I remarked. "He pointed out, after you left, that most crimes are not romances, but mere brutalities. Perhaps this one " The ringing of my telephone stopped me. "Hello," I said, taking down the receiver. "Is that you, Mr. Lester?" asked a voice. "Yes."
"There seems to have been a good deal of blood," remarked Goldberger. "It must have run down over your hand." "It did. It was all over my fingers." "So that it would probably stain anything you touched?" "Yes, very probably." "Did you think of that when you were in the arbour with Miss Vaughan?" Swain's face suddenly crimsoned and he hung his head. "I'm afraid not," he said.
"Why not go out on the lawn?" Godfrey suggested. "It's only a question of moving some chairs and tables, and the boys will all lend a hand." The boys applauded, almost forgiving Godfrey his scoop, protested their entire willingness to lend two hands if necessary, and, when Goldberger nodded his approval, fell to work with a will.
"You realise the serious nature of this assertion?" asked the coroner, slowly. "I realise it fully." "And that realisation does not cause you to modify it in any way?" "It cannot be modified," said Sylvester, firmly, "however serious it may be, however reluctant I may be to make it it cannot be modified because it is the truth." There was a moment's silence, then Goldberger turned to me.
He had been with Vantine for eight or ten years, and the earmarks of the competent and faithful servant were apparent all over him. "Do you know this man?" Goldberger asked, with a gesture toward the body. "No, sir," said Parks. "I never saw him till about an hour ago, when Rogers called me downstairs and said there was a man to see Mr. Vantine." "Who is Rogers?" "He's the footman, sir.
"Have you any questions to ask the witness, Mr. Lester?" "No," I answered; "I have none." Sylvester bent again above his prints, while the coroner and the prosecutor held a brief consultation. Then Goldberger turned back to me. "Have you anything further, Mr. Lester?" he asked. "Our evidence is all in, I believe." I was driven to my last entrenchment.
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