Page:Weird Tales v02 n01 (1923-07-08).djvu/70

 The Mysterious Midnight Visitor Played An Important Part in This Murder Trial



N THE COURSE of my practise of law I have gained considerable reputation for my ability in the solution of mysteries; but, strange to say, the case which first brought me into public notice and laid the foundation for this reputation was one which caused me to lose confidence in my own powers.

Although, in the eyes of the public, the enigma contained therein was satisfactorily answered, the circumstances presented a riddle the key to which I have never found.

Some ten years ago, my partner and I, young "limbs of the law," occupied an office in one of those rare old buildings innocent of such frivolities as elevators and hall men. Our business office, though by courtesy designated in the plural on its gilt sign, consisted of one large, gloomy and weird old room located on the second floor and reached by a long flight of creaky stairs.

My partner was responsible for its selection; he was guided by the double theory that a certain amount of eccentricity was a valuable quality in a professional man and that the antiquated building might shed a sort of mellowness over our own young careers.

Mine has always been rather a sensitive nature, readily in sympathy with all beings, and, in consequence, just as readily put out of tune by a false note in my surroundings. It is doubtless for that reason that I have found my mind serves me to the best advantage during the hours around midnight. I have, at this period, a mental buoyancy and a sense of freedom from outside influences that come to me at no other time.

So it happened that on a summer's night, a decade passed, as the clock in the neighboring church boomed the hour of twelve, I was seated at a table in my office surrounded by books and deep in precedents. An unimportant case had wandered my way, and I was determined, by thorough preparation and careful handling, to make the smallness of the interest its least conspicuous feature.

The door stood ajar for ventilation, for the weather was warm; a single lamp stood at my elbow on the table, its rays, scarce penetrating to the corners of the room, making grotesque shadows among the furniture—a collection of antiques as old-fashioned as the building itself.

I was deeply engrossed with the decision I was reading, and why I looked up I do not know, as I had heard no sound; but I raised my eyes from the book and was somewhat startled to see a man standing directly across the table from me.

A pair of keen dark eyes were set in a face of singular earnestness; the black hair above a high forehead was thinning; a small mustache surmounted a kindly mouth. Something about his appearance struck me as peculiar, yet what, for the life of me, I could not say.

"Well, sir, what can I do for you?" I asked, 69