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Klingmayer could say, and she returned to her home in a cab furnished her by the kind commissioner. About two hours later, a police attendant announced that a gentleman would like to see Dr. von Riedan on business concerning the murder in Hietzing. "Friedrich Bormann" was the name on the card. "Ask him to step in here," said the commissioner. "And please ask Mr. Muller to join us."
Both these letters were posted from a certain station in Hietzing, the station which was nearest his own lodgings and also nearest the Thorne house. He looked at the postmark more sharply. They both bore the dates of the present year, one of them being stamped "March 17th," the other "September 24th." This last letter interested the detective most.
No one saw him go in, and in a few moments the real Muller, slight, smooth-shaven, sat down at his desk, looking at the papers that lay before him. They were three letters and an empty envelope. He took up the last, and compared it carefully with the envelope of one of the letters found in Winkler's room the unsigned letter postmarked Hietzing, September 24th. The two envelopes were exactly alike.
Finally the portly landlord decided that he would touch upon the theme which was still absorbing all Hietzing. "Oh, by the way, sir, do you know that you are in the immediate vicinity of the place where the murder of Monday evening was committed? People are still talking about it around here.
"The last few days particularly, eh?" "Why, no, sir, not these last days I was drover on a transport of pigs; we brought 'em down from Hungary, 200 of 'em, to the slaughter house here." "When was that?" "That was that was Monday." "This last Monday?" "Yes, sir. "And then you went to Hietzing?" "Yes, sir, that's right." "Why did you go to Hietzing?"
The gist of what he said was as follows: He had reached Hietzing on Monday evening about 8 o'clock. He was thirsty, as usual, and had about two gulden in his possession, his wages for the last day's work. He turned into a tavern in Hietzing and ate and drank until his money was all gone, and he had not even enough left to pay for a night's lodging. But Knoll was not worried about that.
This morning at six o'clock the body of a man about 30 years old was discovered in a lane in Hietzing. The man must have been dead many hours. He had been shot from behind. The dead man was tall and thin, with brown eyes, brown hair and moustache. The letters L. W. were embroidered in his underwear. There was nothing else discovered on him that could reveal his identity.
"Who could have done it?" he murmured finally, with a sigh that expressed his pity for the victim. "Hietzing is known to be one of the safest spots in Vienna," remarked Muller. "Indeed it is, sir; indeed it is. As it would well have to be with the royal castles right here in the neighbourhood! Indeed it would have to be safe with the Court coming here all the time."
She crept slowly and tremblingly up the stairs behind the head bookkeeper and was very glad when she was left alone for a few minutes while Pokorny went in to see the commissioner. But as soon as his errand was known, both the bookkeeper and his companion were led into the office of Head Commissioner Dr. von Riedau, who had charge of the Hietzing murder case.
The evening paper printed an exact description of the man's appearance and his clothing. It was about ten o'clock next morning when Mrs. Klingmayer, a widow living in a quiet street at the opposite end of the city from Hietzing, returned from her morning marketing. It was only a few little bundles that she brought with her and she set about preparing her simple dinner.
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