assented George, "everybody was hunted from the basement except those you see here now."
At this moment Coroner Mix joined them.
"Going to look into this case a little, Old Spicer?" he asked.
"I have some thoughts of doing so," was the reply.
"I hope you will," said the coroner. "If there is any information I can give you, I will impart it gladly."
"Are there any clews to work on as yet?" asked Old Spicer.
"Very few, so far as I have been able to learn."
"What do you know about the woman, anyway?"
"Very little indeed. The fact is, Spicer, there seems to be a blissful ignorance on every hand, even regarding the history of the victim and her family affairs."
"Ah-ha! she kept her family affairs to herself, did she?"
"It seems so. A mystery looms up at the very outset of the case. But of that hereafter."
"All right, the mystery can wait, if you say so. But with regard to her relatives, surely something is known about them. What have you been able to find out?"
"In the first place, I have ascertained that Mrs. Ernst had been in this country between thirty and forty years, coming from Germany; and that her financial manager, for a long time past, was Maier Zunder."
"She was a widow, I believe?"
"Yes, a good deal of a widow. She had been married three times, and her three husbands are dead."
"Indeed?"
"Yes; the first died in Germany."
"What was his name?"
"George Pfaff. After his death she came to the United States and met her second husband, Franz Natolph, in New York."
"He came to New Haven with her, didn't he?" asked Stricket.
"Yes," was the reply, "and they started in the saloon-business in this very place."
"There was a pretty serious row, wasn't there, in which Natolph got hurt?"
"Yes, one night, in this very room, Natolph was struck in the head with a bottle, nearly cracking his skull. Typhoid fever set in, and that and the injuries from the bottle soon after caused his death."
"How long is it since Ernst, her third husband, died?" asked Old Spicer.
"Less than ten years," was the reply.
"She left no children, I believe?"
"No – never had any, so far as I have been able to learn."
"She has kept up the business, married or single?"
"Yes: to the very hour of her death."
Old Spicer glanced at the dead body on the sofa.
"She was a very stout woman," he remarked, "but, I believe, was not in good health."
"No," answered the coroner, "she has been troubled of late years with a severe asthmatic attack. She was rarely seen outside of this basement, for a flight of stairs was a terror to her."
"She suffered from rheumatism, I have been told."
"Yes, fearfully; it settled in her limbs, and caused a lameness, which was relieved somewhat by the assistance of the black walking-stick you see by her side."
"But she did go out sometimes?"
"Only at rare intervals, and then always in a carriage."
"She was quite well off – rich, in fact?"
"Of late years she has been increasing her wealth pretty fast. She owns this house, and the large brick block directly back of it, which fronts on York Street."
"She was mighty close-fisted," observed Stricket.
"Yes," assented the coroner, "she was of a parsimonious disposition, and by some in this neighborhood was called very grasping and miserly."
"It seems to me the chief ought to know something about her affairs," remarked Stricket, in a musing tone; "for, if I remember rightly, he was employed by her years ago, when he was practicing law."
"You are right, Mr. Stricket," assented the coroner, "years ago he was her counsel, but only, as he informs me, on two or three occasions."
At that moment the chief and several other officials joined them. As they seemed very willing to talk, Old Spicer determined to be a listener, and very sparing of his own words.
CHAPTER III.
OLD SPICER BEGINS AN INVESTIGATION
"What do you think of the case, Spicer?" asked the chief, carelessly.
"I have formed no decided opinion as yet," was the reply, "have you?"
"Well," rejoined the chief, "I am beginning to map out a theory."
"I should like to hear it," said Spicer.
"I have no objection to giving you my ideas," returned Bollmann, "you see of late, the old woman had become more grasping than ever. She didn't care who came here so long as they left plenty of money behind them, and there's no doubt of it, the greater part of those who frequented the place were a pretty tough set."
"That's evident, I think."
"Yes, young men and young women have been frequently seen in this basement, whose hilarity was so violent at times during the night that the upper tenants were more or less disturbed. We infer, too, from what we have seen of the series of rooms we have stumbled upon, that they were not for the accommodation of the most law-abiding of our citizens."
"You think, then, this murder was committed by some of the dead woman's patrons?"
"I think that may be the case."
"And you will shape your investigation accordingly?"
"Yes; and our first move will be to find out who was here last night."
"Have you made any progress in that direction?"
"One of the tenants of the house – Otto Webber – who will remove from here in a day or two, came into the basement last night, about 8.30, to tell Mrs. Ernst he was about to vacate his apartments. He had with him Alexander Lane and Andrew Lane, brothers, who live on Congress Avenue. Andrew is to rent the tenement to be vacated by Webber. The latter introduced the widow to him. While they were talking, the sound of female voices and those of a couple of men reached them, from one of the little back rooms."
"Ah-ha! did Webber catch a glimpse of them?"
"No, he did not see any of the party; neither did his companions. But, Spicer, my men are hunting for that quartet."
"So?"
"Yes, just so."
"What else have you to go by?"
"A
