Mike Ashley - The Mammoth Book of Perfect Crimes and Impossible Mysteries

“Listen carefully. I’ve checked this from my own observation, from the police investigations, and from my later search with Peake.

“When we entered the penthouse this morning, Gleeb’s passkey didn’t suffice; we had to break the entrance door in because it was bolted on the inside by a strong bar. The walls of the studio are of brick and they have no windows except on the northern side where there is a sheer drop to the ground. The window there was fastened on the inside and the skylight was similarly fastened. The only other exit from the studio is the door to the bedroom. This was closed and the key turned in the lock; the key was on the studio side of the door.

“Yes, I know,” Tarrant went on, apparently forestalling an interruption; “it is sometimes possible to turn a key in a lock from the wrong side, by means of pincers or some similar contrivance. That makes the bedroom, the lavatory and the kitchenette adjoining it, possibilities. There is no exit from any of them except by the windows. They were all secured from the inside and I am satisfied that they cannot be so secured by anyone already out of the penthouse.”

He paused and looked over at Katoh, whose head nodded up and down as he made the successive points. “Two persons in penthouse when murder committed. One is victim, other is Salti man. After murder only victim is visible. One door, windows and skylight are only exists and they are all secured on inside. Cannot be secured from outside. Therefore, Salti man still in penthouse when you enter.”

“But he wasn’t there when we entered. The place was thoroughly searched. I was there then myself.”

“Maybe trap-door. Maybe space under floor or entrance to floor below.”

“Yes,” said Tarrant, “well, now get this. There are no trapdoors in the flooring of the penthouse, there are none in the walls and there are not even any in the roof. I have satisfied myself of that with Peake. Gleeb, the manager, who was on the spot when the penthouse was built, further assures me of it.”

“Only place is floor,” Katoh insisted. “Salti man could make this himself.”

“He couldn’t make a trap-door without leaving at least a minute crack,” was Tarrant’s counter. “At least I don’t see how he could. The flooring of the studio is hardwood, the planks closely fitted together, and I have been over every inch of it. Naturally there are cracks between the planks, lengthwise; but there are no transverse cracks anywhere. Gleeb has shown me the specifications of that floor. The planks are grooved together and it is impossible to raise any plank without splintering the grooving. From my own examination I am sure none of the planks has been, or can be, lifted.

“All this was necessary because there is a space of something like two and a half feet between the floor of the penthouse and the roof of the apartment building proper. One has to mount a couple of steps at the entrance of the penthouse. Furthermore, I have been in part of this space. Let me make it perfectly clear how I got there.

“The bedroom adjoins the studio on the south, and the lavatory occupies the north-west corner of the bedroom. It is walled off, of course. Along the northern wall of the lavatory (which is part of the southern wall of the studio) is the bath-tub; and the part of the flooring under the bath-tub has been cut away, leaving an aperture to the space beneath.”

I made my first contribution. “But how can that be? Wouldn’t the bath-tub fall through?”

“No. The bath-tub is an old-fashioned one, installed by Saltri himself only a few weeks ago. It is not flush with the floor, as they make them now, but stands on four legs. The flooring has only been cut away in the middle of the tub, say two or three planks, and the opening extended only to the outer edge of the tub. Not quite that far, in fact.”

“There is Salti man’s trap-door,” grinned Katoh. “Not even door; just trap.”

“So I thought,” Tarrant agreed grimly. “But it isn’t. Or if it is he didn’t use it. As no one could get through the opening without moving the tub – which hadn’t been done, by the way – Peake and I pulled up some more of the cut plank by main force and I squeezed myself into the space beneath the lavatory and bedroom. There was nothing there but dirt; I got plenty of that.”

“How about space below studio?”

“Nothing doing. The penthouse is built on a foundation, as I said, about two and a half feet high, of concrete building blocks. A line of these blocks runs underneath the penthouse, directly below the wall between the studio and bedroom. As the aperture in the floor is on the southern side of that wall, it is likewise to the south of the transverse line of building blocks in the foundation. The space beneath the studio is to the north of these blcoks, and they form a solid wall that is impassable. I spent a good twenty minutes scrummaging along the entire length of it.”

“Most likely place,” Katoh confided, “just where hole in lavatory floor.”

“Yes, I should think so too. I examined it carefully. I could see the ends of the planks that form the studio floor partway over the beam above the building blocks. But there isn’t a trace of a loose block at that point, any more than there is anywhere else… To make everything certain, we also examined the other three sides of the foundation of the bedroom portion of the penthouse. They are solid and haven’t been touched since it was constructed. So the whole thing is just a cul-de-sac there is no possibility of exit from the penthouse even through the aperture beneath the bath-tub.”

“You examine also foundations under studio part?”

“Yes, we did that, too. No result. It didn’t mean much, though, for there is no entrance to the space beneath the studio from the studio itself, nor is there such an entrance from the other space beneath the bedroom portion. That opening under the bath-tub must mean something, especially in view of the recent installation of the tub. But what does it mean?”

He looked at Katoh long and searchingly and the other, after a pause, replied slowly: “Can only see this Salti man construct this trap, probably for present use. Then he do not use. Must go some other way.”

“But there is no other way.”

“Then Salti man still there.”

“He isn’t there.”

“Harumph,” said Katoh reflectively. It was evident that he felt the same respect for a syllogism that animated Tarrant, and was stopped, for the time being at any rate. He went off on a new tack. “What else specially strange about setting?”

“There are two other things that strike me as peculiar,” Tarrant answered, and his eyes narrowed. “On the floor, about one foot from the northern window, there is a fairly deep indentation in the floor of the studio. It is a small impression and is almost certainly made by a nail partly driven through the planking and then pulled up again.”

I thought of the nail through the picture. “Could he have put the picture down on that part of the floor in order to drive the nail through it? But what if he did?”

“I can see no necessity for it, in any case. The nail would go through the canvas easily enough just as it stood on the easel.”

Katoh said: “With nail in plank, perhaps plank could be pulled up. You say no?”

“I tried it. Even driving the nail in sideways, instead of vertically, as the original indentation was made, the plank can’t be lifted at all.”

“O.K. You say some other thing strange, also.”

“Yes. The position of the easel that holds the painting of the dead girl. When we broke in this morning, it was turned away from the room, toward the bedroom door, so that the picture was scarcely visible even from the studio entrance, let alone the rest of the room. I don’t believe that was the murderer’s intention. He had set the rest of the stage too carefully. The requiem; the candles. It doesn’t fit; I’m sure he meant the first person who entered to be confronted by the whole scene, and especially by that symbolic portrait. It doesn’t accord even with the position of the stool, which agrees with the intended position of the easel. It doesn’t fit at all with the mentality of the murderer. It seems a small thing but I’m sure it’s important. I’m certain the position of the easel is an important clue.”