The Weak-Eyed Bat

Jennie was disposed of.

“So,” Nora hissed. “You can’t think of what the murderer had to gain by this letter! You and the inspector had it all figured out that Tom’s body was meant to be found and now that your argument is proven you’ve forgotten about it. The murderer wants the body found and tells you where to find it. He wasn’t seen and he wasn’t heard, and you’re no closer to him now than you were before. He’s gained his point and risked nothing.”

“Risked everything,” Prye said brusquely. “If we weren’t living in the backwoods this note would hang him. Paper and pencils can be traced. Pencils, like bullets, leave their distinctive marks, and a handwriting expert can deduce almost as much from printing as he can from handwriting. He measures the spaces between letters, words, and lines, the pressure used, the slant of lines and letters, and the width of margins. If ink had been used he could tell what kind of ink, and by the use of a tintometer estimate how long ago the note was written. But there are only about a dozen of these experts on the continent and none of them is in Muskoka. All I can do is observe the obvious facts: that the pencil had a soft lead and the paper is cheap and matches the envelope. We don’t stand much chance of finding the supply the paper came from, since the murderer has probably burned it by this time.”

“Why don’t you get everyone to print the alphabet in block letters and compare them?” Nora suggested.

“One test would do no good. The murderer would take pains to print his letters in a different way. Such a test is useful only when it is repeated after a period of time. After a month, for instance, the subject of the test would no longer remember how he had forged each letter in the first place, and the differences in the two tests, while not conclusive in a court of law, would give us a definite lead. But I don’t care to wait a month. Do you?”

“No,” said Nora, shivering.

When Inspector White arrived he was in the worst of humor. The delivery of the letter under the noses of eight of his men he construed as an insult to his ability and he was quite correct in assuming that the commissioner would think the same.

But the inspector was a hardy optimist, and eventually his trained eye detected a silver lining: “The letter clears up one thing anyway. We’re not dealing with an outsider, but with someone who is living among us, someone who knows Jennie and who is well-posted on the routine in the various cottages.”

“That cheers me,” Nora said.

Inspector White seemed to become aware of her for the first time. “What are you doing here, Miss Shane?” he said sternly.

“Well, I’m — helping. I mean I came over to help but I find there is nothing to help with, so I’m just leaving.”

Inspector White regarded her coldly. “You’re staying. Mr. Smith has been busy all day lodging complaints with Constable Jakes. One of the complaints is against you and a Chinaman called Wang. Mr. Smith claims that the two of you were trespassing not ten feet away from a no-trespassing sign and that you were effecting an entrance through his kitchen window with intent to rob.”

“I thought he was away,” Nora said.

“Obviously.”

“He’s a silly creature anyway. We weren’t going to rob him, we weren’t even trying to get in his silly window.”

“You were posing for a photograph,” Prye said helpfully.

Nora ignored him and said to the inspector: “I’ve known Wang for years, you see. He used to be our houseboy until Miss Bonner lured him away by offering him higher wages.”

“Down with capitalism,” Prye said.

“Anyway,” Nora went on coldly, “he told me he thought Miss Bonner was spying on me with a pair of field glasses and I don’t like to be spied on. I thought I could find out the truth more delicately than asking her outright.”

“So you tested her,” Prye said, and turned to Inspector White. “Sometimes Miss Shane becomes lost in the intricacies of her own mind. She is trying to reduce to words a very complex and typically female idea: if Miss Bonner had field glasses she would see the tableau arranged for her by Miss Shane and Wang and if she saw it she would immediately question Wang on his behavior. Did she?”

“No,” Nora said. “Ralph told me later she was sleeping at the time.”

Inspector White rose to his feet and said in his most impressive tones: “Miss Shane, your explanation is so absurd that I believe it. Your actions were irresponsible, frivolous, and illegal.”

“I’ll sit in the corner,” Nora said, very subdued.

Inspector White took the letter from the table and reread it.

“Prye, who wrote this?”

Prye looked up, startled. “The murderer, I suppose. No reason why anyone else should. Besides, the murderer is the only one who knew where the body was and had a motive for writing the letter.”

“Professor Frost knew this afternoon that we had found Little’s body. How does that information strike you?”