There were evidences of her ineffectual struggle with the person who had strangled her. Besides the dishevelled condition of her hair, one of the shoulder-straps of her gown had been severed, and there was a long rent in the fine lace across her breast. A small corsage of artificial orchids had been torn from her bodice, and lay crumpled in her lap. One satin slipper had fallen off, and her right knee was twisted inward on the seat of the davenport, as if she had sought to lift herself out of the suffocating clutches of her antagonist. Her fingers were still flexed, no doubt as they had been at the moment of her capitulation to death, when she had relinquished her grip upon the murderer’s wrists.
The spell of horror cast over us by the sight of the tortured body was broken by the matter-of-fact tones of Heath.
“You see, Mr. Markham, she was evidently sitting in the corner of this settee when she was grabbed suddenly from behind.”
Markham nodded. “It must have taken a pretty strong man to strangle her so easily.”
“I’ll say!” agreed Heath. He bent over and pointed to the girl’s fingers, on which showed several abrasions. “They stripped her rings off, too; and they didn’t go about it gentle, either.” Then he indicated a segment of fine platinum chain, set with tiny pearls, which hung over one of her shoulders. “And they grabbed whatever it was hanging round her neck, and broke the chain doing it. They weren’t overlooking anything, or losing any time. … A swell, gentlemanly job. Nice and refined.”
“Where’s the Medical Examiner?” asked Markham.
“He’s coming,” Heath told him. “You can’t get Doc Doremus to go anywheres without his breakfast.”
“He may find something else—something that doesn’t show.”
“There’s plenty showing for me,” declared Heath. “Look at this apartment. It wouldn’t be much worse if a Kansas cyclone had struck it.”
We turned from the depressing spectacle of the dead girl and moved toward the centre of the room.
“Be careful not to touch anything, Mr. Markham,” warned Heath. “I’ve sent for the finger-print experts—they’ll be here any minute now.”
Vance looked up in mock astonishment.
“Finger-prints? You don’t say—really! How delightful!—Imagine a johnnie in this enlightened day leaving his finger-prints for you to find.”