Sit down, Mrs. Platz, Markham greeted her kindly. Im the District Attorney, and there are some questions I want to ask you.
She took a straight chair by the door and waited, gazing nervously from one to the other of us. Markhams gentle, persuasive voice, though, appeared to encourage her; and her answers became more and more fluent.
The main facts that transpired from a quarter-of-an-hours examination may be summed up as follows:
Mrs. Platz had been Bensons housekeeper for four years and was the only servant employed. She lived in the house, and her room was on the third, or top, floor in the rear.
On the afternoon of the preceding day Benson had returned from his office at an unusually early houraround four oclockannouncing to Mrs. Platz that he would not be home for dinner that evening. He had remained in the living-room, with the hall door closed, until half past six, and had then gone upstairs to dress.
He had left the house about seven oclock, but had not said where he was going. He had remarked casually that he would return in fairly good season, but had told Mrs. Platz she need not wait up for himwhich was her custom whenever he intended bringing guests home. This was the last she had seen him alive. She had not heard him when he returned that night.
She had retired about half past ten, and, because of the heat, had left the door ajar. She had been awakened some time later by a loud detonation. It had startled her, and she had turned on the light by her bed, noting that it was just half past twelve by the small alarm-clock she used for rising. It was, in fact, the early hour which had reassured her. Benson, whenever he went out for the evening, rarely returned home before two; and this fact, coupled with the stillness of the house, had made her conclude that the noise which had aroused her had been merely the backfiring of an automobile in Forty-ninth Street. Consequently, she had dismissed the matter from her mind, and gone back to sleep.
At seven oclock the next morning she came downstairs as usual to begin her days duties, and, on her way to the front door to bring in the milk and cream, had discovered Bensons body. All the shades in the living-room were down.
At first she thought Benson had fallen asleep in his chair, but when she saw the bullet hole and noticed that the electric lights had been switched off, she knew he was dead. She had gone at once to the telephone in the hall and, asking the operator for the Police Station, had reported the murder. She had then remembered Bensons brother, Major Anthony Benson, and had telephoned him also. He had arrived at the house almost simultaneously with the detectives from the West Forty-seventh Street station. He had questioned her a little, talked with the plain-clothes men, and gone away before the men from Headquarters arrived.
And now, Mrs. Platz, said Markham, glancing at the notes he had been making, one or two more questions, and we wont trouble you further Have you noticed anything in Mr. Bensons actions lately that might lead you to suspect that he was worriedor, let us say, in fear of anything happening to him?
No, sir, the woman answered readily. It looked like he was in special good-humor for the last week or so.
I notice that most of the windows on this floor are barred. Was he particularly afraid of burglars, or of people breaking in?
Wellnot exactly, was the hesitant reply. But he did use to say as how the police were no goodbegging your pardon, sirand how a man in this city had to look out for himself if he didnt want to get held up.
Markham turned to Heath with a chuckle.
You might make a special note of that for your files, Sergeant. Then to Mrs. Platz: Do you know of anyone who had a grudge against Mr. Benson?
Not a soul, sir, the housekeeper answered emphatically. He was a queer man in many ways, but everybody seemed to like him. He was all the time going to parties or giving parties. I just cant see why anybodyd want to kill him.
Markham looked over his notes again.
I dont think theres anything else for the present. How about it, Sergeant? Anything further you want to ask?
Heath pondered a moment.
No, I cant think of anything more just now. But you, Mrs. Platz, he added, turning a cold glance on the woman, will stay here in this house till youre given permission to leave. Well want to question you later. But youre not to talk to anyone elseunderstand? Two of my men will be here for a while yet.
Vance, during the interview, had been jotting down something on the fly-leaf of a small pocket address-book, and as Heath was speaking, he tore out the page and handed it to Markham. Markham glanced at it frowningly and pursed his lips. Then after a few moments hesitation, he addressed himself again to the housekeeper.
You mentioned, Mrs. Platz, that Mr. Benson was liked by everyone. Did you yourself like him?
The woman shifted her eyes to her lap.
Well, sir, she replied reluctantly, I was only working for him, and I havent got any complaint about the way he treated me.
Despite her words, she gave the impression that she either disliked Benson extremely or greatly disapproved of him. Markham, however, did not push the point.
And by the way, Mrs. Platz, he said next, did Mr. Benson keep any fire-arms about the house? For instance, do you know if he owned a revolver?
For the first time during the interview, the woman appeared agitated, even frightened.
Yes, sir, Ithink he did, she admitted, in an unsteady voice.
Where did he keep it?
The woman glanced up apprehensively, and rolled her eyes slightly as if weighing the advisability of speaking frankly. Then she replied in a low voice:
In that hidden drawer there in the center-table. Youyou use that little brass button to open it with.
Heath jumped up, and pressed the button she had indicated. A tiny, shallow drawer shot out; and in it lay a Smith and Wesson thirty-eight revolver with an inlaid pearl handle. He picked it up, broke the carriage, and looked at the head of the cylinder.
Full, he announced laconically.
An expression of tremendous relief spread over the womans features, and she sighed audibly.
Markham had risen and was looking at the revolver over Heaths shoulder.
Youd better take charge of it, Sergeant, he said; though I dont see exactly how it fits in with the case.
He resumed his seat, and glancing at the notation Vance had given him, turned again to the housekeeper.
One more question, Mrs. Platz. You said Mr. Benson came home early and spent his time before dinner in this room. Did he have any callers during that time?
I was watching the woman closely, and it seemed to me that she quickly compressed her lips. At any rate, she sat up a little straighter in her chair before answering.
There wasnt no one, as far as I know.
But surely you would have known if the bell rang, insisted Markham. You would have answered the door, wouldnt you?
There wasnt no one, she repeated, with a trace of sullenness.
And last night: did the door-bell ring at all after you had retired?
No, sir.
You would have heard it, even if youd been asleep?
Yes, sir. Theres a bell just outside my door, the same as in the kitchen. It rings in both places. Mr. Benson had it fixed that way.
Markham thanked her and dismissed her. When she had gone, he looked at Vance questioningly.
What idea did you have in your mind when you handed me those questions?
I might have been a bit presumptuous, y know, said Vance; but when the lady was extolling the deceaseds popularity, I rather felt she was over-doing it a bit. There was an unconscious implication of antithesis in her eulogy, which suggested to me that she herself was not ardently enamored of the gentleman.