How Was She Killed?
“If I ever do it, I’ll do it in that way.”
These were the words I accidentally overheard one day, many years ago, as I was walking along the beach at one of our celebrated summer resorts. The person who uttered the above mentioned remark, a young man of about 28 or 30, spoke only half aloud and was evidently unaware that there was anyone within hearing distance. It was not my purpose to play eavesdropper. I was in a thoughtful mood myself, and with my head bowed almost upon my breast I had overtaken the young man and overheard his words. He had been reading a paper-covered novel of the sensational kind. As I passed him I glanced at the title. It was, “How was she killed?” I passed on my way as if I had not heard anything, and the young man turned to his book, in which he was evidently much interested. I had taken a sufficiently good look at the man to enable me to recognize him again. My memory for faces and forms is very good. On my return to the hotel I saw a number of copies of “How Was She Killed?” on sale. Partly out of curiosity I bought one and read it. I was afterward glad I did so.
Two years after the incident just narrated I was detailed to undertake the solution of a mystery surrounding the death of an unknown young lady. She had been found dead in thewoods. It looked like a case of suicide by poison, as there were no marks of any kind upon the body to show that death had been the result of violence. An examination of the stomach was held, but there was no trace of poison in it. It was in a perfectly healthy condition. There was nothing to show that death had resulted from natural causes. If it was a case of suicide, how had the act been committed; if of murder, how had the murderer done his work? No one claimed the body and it lay for several days in the morgue.
The examination of the doctors and others had evidently not been of a very thorough nature. I examined the body myself very carefully and found what they had apparently overlooked—a tiny mark near the heart, so small that at first sight it was not observable. At my request the heart was opened and examined. The result was as I had expected. The organ contained a fine steel needle, pointed at both ends. This was what had caused the unfortunate woman’s death. She had been murdered, and the murderer had done his work in such a manner as to allay all suspicion—almost. I immediately thought of the sensational novel, “How Was She Killed?” The victim in that story had met her death at the hands of her lover in exactly this way. Had this young lady a lover or any one who wished to get her out of the way? It was a week before she was identified;and when she was, her lover—a scheming rascal—was found to be no other than the man I had encountered two years before and had overheard make the remark with which this story opens. It was an easy task to prove him guilty of the murder of his sweetheart, and he saved himself from the gallows only by committing suicide after his trial and conviction.