The Leavenworth Case

‘Mr Harwell is Mr Leavenworth’s private secretary, sir; the one who did his writing.’

‘Very good. Now at what time of the day or night did you make this discovery?’

‘It was early, sir; early this morning, about eight.’

‘And where?’

‘In the library, sir, off Mr Leavenworth’s bedroom. We had forced our way in, feeling anxious about his not coming to breakfast.’

‘You forced your way in; the door was locked, then?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘On the inside?’

‘That I cannot tell; there was no key in the door.’

‘Where was Mr Leavenworth lying when you first found him?’

‘He was not lying, sir. He was seated at the large table in the centre of his room, his back to the bedroom door, leaning forward, his head on his hands.’

‘How was he dressed?’

‘In his dinner suit, sir, just as he came from the table last night.’

‘Were there any evidences in the room that a struggle had taken place?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Any pistol on the floor or table?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Any reason to suppose that robbery had been attempted?’

‘No, sir. Mr Leavenworth’s watch and purse were both in his pockets.’

Being asked to mention who were in the house at the time of the discovery, he replied, ‘The young ladies, Miss Mary Leavenworth and Miss Eleanore, Mr Harwell, Kate the cook, Molly the upstairs girl, and myself.’

‘The usual members of the household?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Now tell me whose duty it is to close up the house at night.’

‘Mine, sir.’

‘Did you secure it as usual, last night?’

‘I did, sir.’

‘Who unfastened it this morning?’

‘I, sir.’

‘How did you find it?’

‘Just as I left it.’

‘What, not a window open nor a door unlocked?’

‘No, sir.’

By this time you could have heard a pin drop. The certainty that the murderer, whoever he was, had not left the house, at least till after it was opened in the morning, seemed to weigh upon all minds. Forewarned as I had been of the fact, I could not but feel a certain degree of emotion at having it thus brought before me; and, moving so as to bring the butler’s face within view, searched it for some secret token that he had spoken thus emphatically in order to cover up some failure of duty on his own part. But it was unmoved in its candour, and sustained the concentrated gaze of all in the room like a rock.

Being now asked when he had last seen Mr Leavenworth alive, he replied, ‘At dinner last night.’

‘He was, however, seen later by some of you?’

‘Yes, sir; Mr Harwell says he saw him as late as half-past ten in the evening.’

‘What room do you occupy in this house?’

‘A little one on the basement floor.’

‘And where do the other members of the household sleep?’

‘Mostly on the third floor, sir; the ladies in the large back rooms, and Mr Harwell in the little one in front. The girls sleep above.’

‘There was no one on the same floor with Mr Leavenworth?’

‘No, sir.’

‘At what hour did you go to bed?’

‘Well, I should say about eleven.’

‘Did you hear any noise in the house either before or after that time, that you remember?’

‘No, sir.’

‘So that the discovery you made this morning was a surprise to you?’

‘Yes, sir.’

Requested now to give a more detailed account of that discovery, he went on to say it was not till Mr Leavenworth failed to come to his breakfast at the call of the bell that any suspicion arose in the house that all was not right. Even then they waited some little time before doing anything, but as minute after minute went by and he did not come, Miss Eleanore grew anxious, and finally left the room saying she would go and see what was the matter, but soon returned looking very much frightened, saying she had knocked at her uncle’s door, and had even called to him, but could get no answer. At which Mr Harwell and himself had gone up and together tried both doors, and, finding them locked, burst open that of the library, when they came upon Mr Leavenworth, as he had already said, sitting at the table, dead.

‘And the ladies?’