The Benson Murder Case by S. S. Van Dine Read Free Book Online Page A

a brunette, Sergeant.”
    â€œIt’s all right with me,” agreed Heath, jocularly. By this time, I think, he had entirely forgiven Vance for destroying the cigarette butt.

Chapter IV
The Housekeeper’s Story
    (
Friday
,
June
14
th
; 11
a.m.
)
    â€œNow,” suggested Markham, “suppose we take a look over the house. I imagine you’ve done that pretty thoroughly already, Sergeant, but I’d like to see the layout. Anyway,I don’t want to question the housekeeper until the body has been removed.”
    Heath rose.
    â€œVery good, sir. I’d like another look myself.”
    The four of us went into the hall and walked down the passageway to the rear of the house. At the extreme end, on the left, was a door leading downstairs to the basement; but it was locked and bolted.
    â€œThe basement is only used for storage now,” Heath explained, “and the door which opens from it into the street areaway is boarded up. The Platz woman sleeps upstairs—Benson lived here alone, and there’s plenty of spare room in the house—and the kitchen is on this floor.”
    He opened a door on the opposite side of the passageway, and we stepped into a small modern kitchen. Its two high windows, which gave into the paved rear yard at a height of about eight feet from the ground, were securely guarded with iron bars, and, in addition, the sashes were closed and locked. Passing through a swinging door we entered the dining-room, which was directly behind the living-room. The two windows here looked upon a small stone court—really no more than a deep air-well between Benson’s house and the adjoining one—and these also were iron-barred and locked.
    We now re-entered the hallway and stood for a moment at the foot of the stairs leading above.
    â€œYou can see, Mr. Markham,” Heath pointed out, “that whoever shot Benson must have gotten in by the front door. There’s no other way he could have entered. Living alone, I guess Benson was a little touchy on the subject of burglars. The only window that wasn’t barred was the rear one in the living-room; and that was shut and locked. Anyway, it only leads into the inside court. The front windows of the living-room have that ironwork over them; so they couldn’t have been used even to shoot through, for Benson was shot from the opposite direction…. It’s pretty clear the gunman got in the front door.”
    â€œLooks that way,” said Markham.
    â€œAnd pardon me for saying so,” remarked Vance, “but Benson let him in.”
    â€œYes?” retorted Heath unenthusiastically. “Well, we’ll find all that out later, I hope.”
    â€œOh, doubtless,” Vance drily agreed.
    We ascended the stairs, and entered Benson’s bedroom, which was directly over the living-room. It was severely but well furnished, and in excellent order. The bed was made, showing it had not been slept in that night; and the window-shades were drawn. Benson’s dinner-jacket and white piqué waistcoat were hanging over a chair. A winged collar and a black bow-tie were on the bed, where they had evidently been thrown when Benson had taken them off on returning home. A pair of low evening shoes were standing by the bench at the foot of the bed. In a glass of water on the night-table was a platinum plate of four false teeth; and a toupee of beautiful workmanship was lying on the chiffonier.
    This last item aroused Vance’s special interest. He walked up to it and regarded it closely.
    â€œMost int’restin’,” he commented. “Our departed friend seems to have worn false hair; did you know that, Markham?”
    â€œI always suspected it,” was the indifferent answer.
    Heath, who had remained standing on the threshold, seemed a little impatient.
    â€œThere’s only one other room on this floor,” he said, leading the way down the hall. “It’s also a