lift where he lives, how could I get him down the stairs?' That was all. Then came some of the conventional phrases with which one ends a telephone conversation."
He carefully folded the ticket and looked at me inquiringly.
"Well?" he said. "What do you think of that?"
"I think it rather hazardous to draw such far-reaching conclusions from those few words," I said. "How do you know it was the murderer whom they were talking about?"
"Who else could it have been?" the engineer replied. "The man who can't go out because there's no lift in the building he lives in is the murderer, I'm certain of that. I now know what he's like. A freak of pathological bulk, and very likely lame into the bargain. Do you think it will be very difficult to find him?"
He began developing his plans for my benefit, striding up and down the room.
"For one thing, there's the Medical Association whom we could ask. A 'case' of that kind could hardly be unknown to the specialists. Then there's the fact that human beings of that size nearly always have heart trouble. So I may be able to find out more about him from a heart specialist. He's an Italian, and apparently doesn't understand a word of German, and that further reduces the number of possible suspects. But I hope to be able to save myself the trouble of following up all these possible leads, because I think there will be a much simpler way of finding the murderer. There's only one thing I don't understand. What attracted Eugen Bischoff to this Italian? Did he have a taste for monsters and freaks of nature?"
"How do you know the murderer is an Italian?" I asked.
"To say I know it would be an over-statement," the engineer replied. "It's only a conclusion I've drawn. No doubt you'll again call it hazardous. That doesn't matter. I'll try to explain to you why I'm convinced that the murderer must be Italian, and then you can say what you like about it."
He collapsed into the armchair and rested his chin on the backs of his clasped hands.
"I must go back to the prehistory of the case," he began. "Do you remember that the naval officer whom Eugen Bischoff told us about set out to track down his brother's killer? We know what happened. One day he came home unusually late for his midday meal, and he committed suicide an hour later. That day he had found and spoken to his brother's murderer. That's clear to you, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"Then listen to this. In the last days of his life Eugen Bischoff similarly came home very late, the first time on Wednesday and the second time on Friday. He came by taxi, because at table he mentioned that he had some trouble ahead with the police — his driver had collided with the trailer of a tram in the Burggasse, and he would have to give evidence. On Saturday, when he came home late again, he was tired, distracted and monosyllabic. Dina assumed that rehearsals had gone on longer than usual, but did not ask about it. Today I discovered that on all three days rehearsals ended at the usual time. So you see that in both cases the circumstances that preceded the crime were the same. I can see only one difference, but it's an important one. You know what I'm referring to?"
"No."
"Strange that it hasn't occurred to you. Well, the murderer exercised a strong suggestive influence over his victim. To all appearances the naval officer succumbed to this on the very first day. In Eugen Bischoff's case it took the murderer three days to impose his will. Can you explain that to me? Actors in general are easily suggestible people, one would expect a naval officer to put up a much more energetic resistance. I have thought about it, and have found only one satisfactory explanation. The murderer speaks a language familiar to the naval officer in which, however, Eugen Bischoff could make himself understood only in clumsy and roundabout ways. From that I conclude that the man must be an Italian, for Italian was the only foreign language of which Eugen Bischoff had any knowledge. You
He carefully folded the ticket and looked at me inquiringly.
"Well?" he said. "What do you think of that?"
"I think it rather hazardous to draw such far-reaching conclusions from those few words," I said. "How do you know it was the murderer whom they were talking about?"
"Who else could it have been?" the engineer replied. "The man who can't go out because there's no lift in the building he lives in is the murderer, I'm certain of that. I now know what he's like. A freak of pathological bulk, and very likely lame into the bargain. Do you think it will be very difficult to find him?"
He began developing his plans for my benefit, striding up and down the room.
"For one thing, there's the Medical Association whom we could ask. A 'case' of that kind could hardly be unknown to the specialists. Then there's the fact that human beings of that size nearly always have heart trouble. So I may be able to find out more about him from a heart specialist. He's an Italian, and apparently doesn't understand a word of German, and that further reduces the number of possible suspects. But I hope to be able to save myself the trouble of following up all these possible leads, because I think there will be a much simpler way of finding the murderer. There's only one thing I don't understand. What attracted Eugen Bischoff to this Italian? Did he have a taste for monsters and freaks of nature?"
"How do you know the murderer is an Italian?" I asked.
"To say I know it would be an over-statement," the engineer replied. "It's only a conclusion I've drawn. No doubt you'll again call it hazardous. That doesn't matter. I'll try to explain to you why I'm convinced that the murderer must be Italian, and then you can say what you like about it."
He collapsed into the armchair and rested his chin on the backs of his clasped hands.
"I must go back to the prehistory of the case," he began. "Do you remember that the naval officer whom Eugen Bischoff told us about set out to track down his brother's killer? We know what happened. One day he came home unusually late for his midday meal, and he committed suicide an hour later. That day he had found and spoken to his brother's murderer. That's clear to you, isn't it?"
"Yes."
"Then listen to this. In the last days of his life Eugen Bischoff similarly came home very late, the first time on Wednesday and the second time on Friday. He came by taxi, because at table he mentioned that he had some trouble ahead with the police — his driver had collided with the trailer of a tram in the Burggasse, and he would have to give evidence. On Saturday, when he came home late again, he was tired, distracted and monosyllabic. Dina assumed that rehearsals had gone on longer than usual, but did not ask about it. Today I discovered that on all three days rehearsals ended at the usual time. So you see that in both cases the circumstances that preceded the crime were the same. I can see only one difference, but it's an important one. You know what I'm referring to?"
"No."
"Strange that it hasn't occurred to you. Well, the murderer exercised a strong suggestive influence over his victim. To all appearances the naval officer succumbed to this on the very first day. In Eugen Bischoff's case it took the murderer three days to impose his will. Can you explain that to me? Actors in general are easily suggestible people, one would expect a naval officer to put up a much more energetic resistance. I have thought about it, and have found only one satisfactory explanation. The murderer speaks a language familiar to the naval officer in which, however, Eugen Bischoff could make himself understood only in clumsy and roundabout ways. From that I conclude that the man must be an Italian, for Italian was the only foreign language of which Eugen Bischoff had any knowledge. You
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