He stood there quietly waiting, watching over the ghastly discovery.
In about ten minutes the police commissioner and the coroner, followed by two roundsmen with a litter, joined the solitary watcher, and the latter could return to his post.
The policemen set down their litter and waited for orders, while the coroner and the commissioner bent over the corpse. There was nothing for the physician to do but to declare that the unfortunate man had been dead for many hours. The bullet which struck him in the back had killed him at once. The commissioner examined the ground immediately around the corpse, but could find nothing that pointed to a struggle. There remained only to prove whether there had been a robbery as well as a murder.
"Judging from the man's position the bullet must have come from that direction," said the commissioner, pointing towards the cottages down the lane.
"People who are killed by bullets may turn several times before they fall," said a gentle voice behind the police officer. The voice seemed to suit the thin little man who stood there meekly, his hat in his hand.
The commissioner turned quickly. "Ah, are you there already, Muller?" he said, as if greatly pleased, while the physician broke in with the remark:
"That's just what I was about to observe. This man did not die so quickly that he could not have made a voluntary or involuntary movement before life fled. The shot that killed him might have come from any direction."The commissioner nodded thoughtfully and there was silence for a few moments. Muller - for the little thin man was none other than the celebrated Joseph Muller, one of the most brilliant detectives in the service of the Austrian police - looked down at the corpse carefully.. He took plenty of time to do it and nobody hurried him. For nobody ever hurried Muller; his well-known and almost laughable thoroughness and pedantry were too valuable in their results. It was a tradition in the police that Muller was to have all the time he wanted for everything. It paid in the end, for Muller made few mistakes. Therefore, his superior the police commissioner, and the coroner waited quietly while the little man made his inspection of the corpse.
"Thank you," said Muller finally, with a polite bow to the commissioner, before he bent to brush away the dust on his knees.
"Well?" asked Commissioner Holzer.
Muller smiled an embarrassed smile as he replied:
"Well ... I haven't found out anything yet except that he is dead, and that he has been shot in the back. His pockets may tell us something more.""Yes, we can examine them at once," said the commissioner. "Ihave been delaying that for I wanted you here; but I had no idea that you would come so soon. I told them to fetch you if you were awake, but doubted you would be, for I know you have had no sleep for forty-eight hours.""Oh, I can sleep, at least with one eye, when I'm on the chase,"answered the detective. "So it's really only twenty-four hours, you see." Muller had just returned from tracking down an aristocratic swindler whom he had found finally in a little French city and had brought back to a Viennese prison. He had returned well along in the past night and Holzer knew that the tired man would need his rest. Still he had sent for Muller, who lived near the police station, for the girl's report had warned him that this was a serious case. And in serious cases the police did not like to do without Muller's help.
