COPYRIGHT, 1932, BY HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED INCLUDING THE RIGHT TO REPRODUCE THIS BOOK OR PARTS THEREOF IN ANY FORM

The Riverside Press
CAMBRIDGE · MASSACHUSETTS
PRINTED IN THE U.S.A.

TO
MY MOTHER

FOREWORD

The solution of criminal mysteries constitutes one of the most absorbing, possibly the most intriguing forms of mental activity existent. It calls for something more than mere cold intelligence and reasoning ability, requiring in addition native perception, intuition, and a natural understanding of human behavior under stress of emotion and passion. Furthermore, some knowledge of pathological or abnormal behaviorism is a requisite.

Mr. Ripley’s excellently thought-out series of mysteries might be said to represent a very adequate cross-section of the problems perennially confronting the law-enforcers and official crime-solvers of the nation. The points of evidence are cleverly assembled and the nuances of incrimination are very subtly shaded.

It would be well for the reader interested in successfully solving these problems to endeavor to think, not as a detective, but as the criminal in the case would think, in order to arrive at a correct solution. I have found that to deal adequately with the criminal after conviction, and while in confinement, it is necessary to understand his personal problems. To accomplish this, one must first think as does the criminal, discover the sequent conclusions upon which he based his anti-social activities, and thereupon make use of these findings to assist him toward rehabilitation.

In this novel challenge to amateur criminologists, who suffer from a dearth of laboratory specimens upon which to experiment, Mr. Ripley offers an excellent opportunity—that of examining and forming conclusions upon the more elemental, vital, and dramatic aspects of various typical criminal situations, without the drawback of fantasy and concocted sordidness, which, for the practical criminologist, takes the glamour and color out of this thing called—Crime.

Lewis E. Lawes

AUTHOR’S PREFACE

Chief Inspector Kelley, that grizzled veteran of the Detective Bureau, was talking to his nephew, Jim Barry, who had indicated a desire to enter the uncrowded field of criminology.

‘The average policeman,’ he said, ‘looks upon the lay criminologist in much the same manner as the professional in any field regards the amateur. Generally speaking, that attitude is justified.

‘In thirty years of police work, however, I have met no one in detective circles, in or out of the force, who so effectively combines theoretical knowledge with practical application as Professor Fordney.

‘A man of definite scientific attainments and recognition, he yet appreciates that the simple fundamentals of crime detection are effective in ninety per cent of all criminal cases. While he has unraveled by scientific means some amazing and extremely baffling crimes that otherwise would have gone unsolved, he puts his greatest reliance on those basic principles upon which rests the whole structure of crime detection.

‘His major theory is that most crimes are simple; that their solution calls only for the exercise of ordinary talents developed to an extraordinary degree; that the stupidity of the average criminal himself, and not the brilliance of the detective, is responsible for his detection.

‘In that, I might tell you, he finds complete corroboration in the experience of such an outstanding detective of world-wide reputation as Sir Melville L. Macnaghten, C.B., late Chief of the Criminal Investigation Department of Scotland Yard. Commenting on the capture of a particularly vicious murderer, he remarked, “But for the fact that the student of criminal history is constantly faced with the stupidity of the criminal, there would be nothing more remarkable in this case than the fatuity of the man who, having murdered solely for personal gratifications, and taken every precaution, as he thought, to avoid discovery, immediately wrote blackmailing letters in which he showed guilty knowledge of a secret murder.”

‘Fordney could undoubtedly explain such an inconsistency as this by his uncanny knowledge of criminal psychology,’ continued Kelley. ‘Among psychologists his insight into the criminal mind and its reactions is appreciated as being authoritative.

‘His greatest interest is his class in criminology at the University. He still finds time, however, to assist actively the police of many cities who frequently consult him on cases they find unusually puzzling.

‘There are instances also in which his part has been that of a bystander, where a word of suggestion, modestly given, has frequently disposed of cases before they were brought to the attention of the police.

‘If the Professor is convinced you have the natural qualifications, Jim, and a real inclination for work, I can get you into his class. He will take not only a personal, but a fatherly, interest in you, as in the rest of his students. You will receive the finest possible training given by a man of broad understanding and great human sympathies. Out of his vast experience and knowledge, gained in studying crime in all parts of the world, he will develop in you those qualities essential to success in this field.

‘You will find him a genial, ruddy, kindly man of fifty, with a waistline of forty. There is nothing subtle in his face or manner. A characterful nose rises above a strong and determined mouth, adorned by a blond mustache. A pair of keen but smiling blue eyes completes a commonplace face. Although he refuses to admit it, his rapidly thinning hair causes him great concern. A bit vain, the old codger, but don’t tell him I told you so,’ laughed the Inspector.

‘Scrupulously dressed, he looks like an amiable and highly successful business executive. He’s a mixer and thoroughly enjoys the good things of life. He views the passing parade with a keen sense of humor, few illusions, and a genuine interest in his fellow man. Detests hypocrisy; would rather see ten guilty men acquitted than one innocent man condemned. Recognizes his own fallibility, but knows his own worth and does not suffer from that abominable social vice, false modesty.

‘You might be interested in knowing his only hobby is that of designing, making, and repairing toys for children. He’s known to hundreds of them as the Toy Man.

‘Though a bachelor, he looks with favor on the ladies, enjoys their company and is thoroughly sociable.

‘It’s a pleasure and an education to know him. More than once he’s helped your old uncle and absolutely refused the credit that was his,’ concluded Inspector Kelley.

In the following pages you will find some interesting experiences taken from the Professor’s case book. They illustrate forcibly his contention that crime is simple and that most criminals are caught, not by any superhuman qualities of the detective, but by their own ignorance, stupidity, or carelessness.

In these accounts every fact, every clue necessary to the solution is given. The answer is in the story itself. You need look nowhere else but there. Each problem has only one possible solution.

Written in less than two hundred and sixty words, these little stories can be read in a minute.

Here is your chance to work on an absolute equality with the Professor; to match your wits with his and the criminal’s. You know as much as the Professor does. Now you have an opportunity of proving just how good a detective you are and what poor detectives your friends are.

The author hopes you will find them as fascinating reading as they were in the telling by the Professor.

H. A. Ripley

CONTENTS

Foreword by Lewis E. Lawes vii

Author’s Preface ix

It Stands to Reason! A New National Game xix

1. A Crack Shot 1

2. On the Scent 3

3. Fatal Error 5

4. The Poison Murder Case 7

5. A Strange ‘Kidnaping’ 9

6. A Valuable Formula 11

7. Strangled 13

8. Death in the Office 15

9. They Usually Forget Something 17

10. The Professor Gives a Lesson 19

11. Upstairs and Down 21

12. Class Day 23

13. A Hot Pursuit 25

14. A Question of Identity 27

15. A Yachtsman’s Alibi 29

16. Murder at Coney Island 31

17. Too Clever 33

18. Bloody Murder 35

19. Death Back-Stage 37

20. An Easy Combination 39

21. A Modern Knight 41

22. The Jewel Robbery 43

23. Before the Coroner’s Inquest 45

24. The Fifth Avenue Hold-Up 47

25. Behind Locked Doors 49

26. Lost at Sea 51

27. A Suave Gunman 53

28. Accidental Death 55

29. Easy Money 57

30. Robbery at High Noon 59

31. The Wrong Foot Forward 61

32. Death Attends the Party 63

33. No Way Out 65

34. Midnight Murder 67

35. Speakeasy Stick-Up 69

36. Behind Time 71

37. A Broken Engagement 73

38. The Holden Road Murder 75

39. Fisherman’s Luck 77

40. The Unlucky Elephant 79

41. The Professor Listens 81

42. Ten-Fifteen 83

43. Rapid Transit 85

44. The Professor is Disappointed 87

45. A Dramatic Triumph 89

46. Murder at the Lake 91

47. The Professor Studies a Coat 93

48. Too Late 95

49. Sergeant Reynolds’s Theory 97

50. Daylight Robbery 99

51. A Simple Solution 101

52. Who? 103

53. Murder in the Swamp 105

54. Death by Drowning 107

55. Tragedy at the Convention 109

56. A Murderer’s Mistake 111

57. Babe Comes Through 113

58. A Soldier of Fortune 115

59. Number Twenty-Six 117

60. The Pullman Car Murder 121

61. Forgery 123

62. The Christmas Eve Tragedy 125

63. A Knight of the Bath 127

64. Murder in the First Degree 129

65. A Rendezvous with Death 131

66. A Rum Regatta 133

67. Who is the Heir? 135

68. The Professor Stops a Blunder 137

69. The Perfect Crime 139

70. The Professor Sees Through It 141

71. The Kidnapers’ Cleverness 143

Solutions 145

IT STANDS TO REASON!
A NEW NATIONAL GAME

Here is a fascinating game of wits for a party of any size. It can be played in either of two ways.

1. Select one or more stories from the Minute Mysteries that particularly appeal to you. Make as many copies of each as there are guests at the party. Then pass the copies around and allow three minutes, say, for your guests to study them. At the end of this time each must hand you a written solution, giving the line of reasoning which was used. You compare these with the solutions at the back of the book; the one who is most often correct is the winner.

2. Instead of making copies of each story, you may read it aloud, slowly and carefully. If any of the listeners so desire, it may be read a second time. But after this no questions may be asked.

After the period agreed upon has elapsed, each guest writes out his solution as in (1), and hands it to you for comparison with the book.

Method number 1 puts the emphasis on one’s powers of reasoning and analysis; method number 2 adds to these a premium on an accurate memory.

MINUTE MYSTERIES

1
A Crack Shot

Professor Fordney was hunting in the Rockies when informed of a tragedy at one of the camps. Thinking he might be of some help, he went over, and, after introducing himself, Butler, the victim’s companion, told him of the accident.

‘When Marshall hadn’t returned to camp at nine o’clock last night, I was a bit worried because he didn’t know these mountains. There wasn’t a star out and it was dark and moonless, so I decided to look around for him. We’re five miles from anyone, you know.

‘Putting more wood on the fire, I set out. After searching for an hour, I was coming up the slope of a ravine when I saw a pair of eyes shining out at me in the dark.

‘Calling twice, and getting no answer, I fired, thinking it was a mountain lion. Imagine my horror when I reached the spot, struck a match, and saw I had nearly blown the head off Marshall. A terrible experience!

‘I carried his body back to camp and then walked to the nearest house to report the accident.’

‘How far from camp did you find Marshall?’ asked Fordney.

‘About a quarter of a mile.’

‘I see your right hand is bandaged. How do you manage to shoot with it?’

‘Oh, I use either hand.’

‘Mind if I look at the gun?’

‘Not at all,’ said Butler, handing it over.

‘H’m, European make, I see. Had it long?’

‘No, it’s rather new.’

‘Why did you deliberately murder Marshall?’ demanded Fordney abruptly ... ‘for that’s what you did.’

How did the Professor know Butler had murdered his companion?

2
On the Scent

‘I couldn’t wait to be announced,’ said George Collins, Florida’s foremost prohibition agent, and a great wit, as he stepped into the Professor’s office.

‘How long are you going to be in New York?’ asked Fordney, as the two friends shook hands.

‘I’m due back in Miami now,’ replied Collins, ‘but I wanted to congratulate you on your success in the Hicks murder case. I wish interesting things like that would happen in my game. However, I did have an amusing experience last December.

‘Sneaky Joe, a stool-pigeon, tipped me off to a huge still he said was working about forty miles from headquarters. A narrow road through dense woods led to the spot. Arriving there, I found an old dilapidated shanty screened by trees. As I entered the woods, I smelled alcohol. Sneaky Joe was right, after all, I thought, as I drove up to the shanty.

‘I got out and peered cautiously around, but the place seemed deserted. After opening the door and entering the house, however, I knew liquor was not being made there. I searched the woods, but found nothing. As I was driving back along the road at a good rate, I discovered the alcohol I smelled was coming from my own radiator! Imagine my chagrin!’

The Professor laughed heartily and said to his friend, ‘Stay over for my birthday party tonight, the ladies would love to hear that yarn of yours.’

What did the Professor find preposterous in Collins’s story?

3
Fatal Error

‘Crowley was an eccentric and taciturn old fellow, but I liked him,’ remarked Fordney. ‘When he was found dead last December, I took a personal interest in the case. Harold Bronson, his last known caller, had this to say of his visit:

‘“After leaving word at my hotel where I might be reached if wanted, I arrived at Crowley’s suburban estate shortly after five o’clock. I found him seated in the dusk at the end of his library table. Courteously enough for him, he waved me into a chair at the other end and invited me to dine with him at eight o’clock. Reaching for my cigarettes, I remembered that Crowley did not permit smoking.

‘“His principal contributions to our discussion were his usual nods of approval, grunts, and monosyllables. Very sparing of words, was Mr. Crowley.

‘“About seven o’clock the telephone rang and he asked me to answer it. It was my wife asking me to return at once to see an unexpected visitor. Finishing the conversation, I returned to my chair and, after I explained the call, Crowley nodded assent to my request to leave immediately.

‘“On the way out, as the lights had not been turned on, I bumped my head, which explains this bruise. Just as I reached the door, he called after me—‘See you tomorrow at ten.’ He was certainly all right when I left him shortly after seven.”

‘Although Bronson’s telephone alibi was later proved sound, he had hardly finished his story before I was convinced he was implicated,’ concluded Fordney.

What directed suspicion to Bronson?

4
The Poison Murder Case

‘I’m going to the theater now,’ Bob Kewley told Professor Fordney at their club. ‘I wish you’d spend the evening with Uncle John. He’s been worried lately.’

Upon reaching the Kewley home an hour later, Fordney found the butler in an agitated state.

‘After ordering coffee, Mr. Kewley locked himself in his library an hour ago, sir. When I rapped on the door just now, he didn’t answer.’

The two men forced the lock and found John Kewley on the floor, an empty strychnine bottle at his side. The terrace door was open. After a careful examination, Fordney returned home. A few hours later, Bob Kewley entered his living-room.

‘Thought I’d stop in on my way home. Don’t you think Uncle John looks worried?’

‘Your uncle, Bob, is dead. Strychnine. Your butler and I found him lying on the floor, but were too late to save him.’

‘How horrible, Fordney! Why was the library door locked, do you suppose?’

‘That puzzles me. Has your butler been with you long?’

‘For years,’ replied Bob, his head buried in his hands.

‘Well, you’re a wealthy man now.’

‘What of it? Uncle John meant more to me than all the money in the world.’

‘I wish I could believe that,’ replied Fordney. ‘You’ll need a better alibi than those,’ pointing to the ticket stubs Bob was nervously fingering.

How had Kewley aroused the Professor’s suspicions?

5
A Strange ‘Kidnaping’

‘I haven’t the faintest idea why I was kidnaped,’ said Johnson to Professor Fordney, an hour after he returned home. ‘I never miss Sunday evening services, you know, so I’m afraid I haven’t much time to discuss it now.’

‘Oh, just a brief account of your experience is all that is necessary,’ remarked the Professor.

So Johnson proceeded.

‘I was walking along Burnham Street about 2 A.M. Friday when two masked men, with drawn guns, ordered me into a blue sedan. I was blindfolded and gagged. After driving for about an hour, I was led into a house and down some stairs to a small room, where they removed my blindfold and gag. They took off my outer clothing and hung it on a chair. Then they questioned me at length about the Shirley case and refused to believe I knew nothing of it.

‘Exasperated, they threatened to kill me, and when I remonstrated, one of them hit me on the head with a black-jack and I went down unconscious.

‘The next thing I knew was when I came to with a terrific headache. I lay still for a few minutes and, hearing nothing but the ticking of my watch, I cautiously got to my feet and groped for the door, as the room was in darkness. Before I could locate it, two men, still masked, entered, turned on the light, apologized profusely for the treatment I had received, and said they had mistaken me for someone else. Then they gave me something to eat, blindfolded me again, and drove me to within a block of my home, still apologizing for the mistake. Before I could remove my blindfold after getting out of the car, it had sped away.

‘It’s all very mysterious to me. I can’t make anything of it.’

‘I won’t give you away, Johnson,’ smiled the Professor. ‘Your wife undoubtedly believes your yarn, but you’d better think up a better one the next time.’

What flaw did the Professor find in Johnson’s story which proved the ‘kidnaping’ was a fake?

6
A Valuable Formula

‘I had just stepped behind that screen near the door to wash my hands when a man, gun in hand, entered the room and stood motionless for a few seconds,’ said Hyde. ‘Apparently satisfied no one was here, he walked to the desk over there by the window. As he rummaged through the papers in the drawer, I hastily dialed headquarters, leaving the receiver off the hook, trusting you would trace the call. I was afraid to talk because I was unarmed and he looked like a desperate fellow.’

‘You say he took nothing but a valuable formula from your desk?’ inquired the Professor.

‘That’s all; he touched nothing else.’

‘Rather careless to leave such an important paper lying about like that, wasn’t it?’

‘Well, I suppose so, though it was only a copy. I sold the original to Schmitz yesterday for twenty thousand dollars and I intended to destroy the duplicate tonight.’

‘Would that formula be valuable to anyone else?’

‘Yes, it would be worth twice as much to Schmitz’s competitors.’

‘Why didn’t you sell it to them in the first place, then?’

‘Schmitz financed me while I was perfecting the formula, so I thought it only right to sell it to him, even though I could have got more for it from the other firm.’

‘As this is such a small, bright room and you observed so much through that crack in the screen,’ said Fordney sarcastically, ‘you should be able to give us a very good description of the intruder.’

‘Oh, I can do that,’ Hyde replied, with assurance. ‘He was a big fellow about six feet tall and weighed around two hundred pounds. He had jet-black hair, swarthy complexion, an unusually large nose, and a vicious-looking mouth. As he left obviously unaware of my presence, I noticed he had a big rip in the back of his blue coat.’

‘Well, Hyde, as part of your story is incredible, you can’t expect me to believe any of it.’

Why did the Professor say this?

7
Strangled

‘Twenty-two days of this hot, dry spell,’ groaned Professor Fordney. ‘I can’t remember a stretch like it.’

‘Tell us about the Greer case, Professor,’ urged the rocking-chair brigade. ‘It’ll take your mind off the heat.’

‘Well, you know the salient facts. The body of Irene Greer, lying on the railroad right-of-way, was found half a mile from here by a fishing party at 6 A.M. day before yesterday. It could be seen that she was a beautiful girl despite the tousled hair matted with mud and a nasty bruise on her cheek. Her flaming red dress was torn and dirty. She had on shoes, but no stockings. Incidentally, her clothes were of the finest quality. Her body indicated that she had received a terrific beating, poor girl.

‘From appearances she had been placed on the track with the expectation that she would be struck by a train and identification made impossible. No doubt she was unconscious when this was done, but she must have revived temporarily and crawled to the gravel right-of-way before a train came along. There she died.

‘A peculiar circumstance is that, while her body was bruised and twisted, there were no marks on her throat to indicate strangulation, yet Dr. Bridewell says that was the cause of death.

‘She was found in a desolate spot. Oh, yes, she was probably strangled with a scarf which, employed in a certain manner, would leave no outward trace.

‘Now you folks should know how I learned Irene Greer was attacked elsewhere and then brought to the vicinity where she was found,’ smiled the Professor.

Do you?

8
Death in the Office

When Professor Fordney reached Gifford’s office, he found a policeman already there.

‘Gifford’s dead,’ he was told. ‘What brings you here?’

‘He telephoned me a few minutes ago; said he had been shot; then I had a hard time understanding him. This street is on your beat, isn’t it?’

‘Yes. I heard the shot when I was in Smith’s cigar store. It took me a while to locate it. The door was locked and I had to break in.’

As they walked into an inner office, they saw Gifford’s body, a bullet through the heart, lying in a pool of blood.

Fordney stooped to pick up a revolver.

‘It’s an easy jump to the ground,’ observed the policeman, who was standing by an open window.

‘Did you know, sir,’ he added, ‘that Gifford has been troubled lately by blackmailers?’

‘Yes. The last time I saw him, he told me he had been shot at a couple of weeks ago.’

Fordney walked over to the door and found the lock was sprung, but the key still in it.

‘I suppose,’ ventured the policeman, ‘that the blackmailers got him. They must have locked the door from the inside when they entered, shot him, and then jumped out the window.’

‘No,’ said Fordney, who was examining the key he had removed from the lock. ‘There weren’t any murderers in here. Gifford committed suicide.’

Why was the Professor sure that it was suicide?

9
They Usually Forget Something

‘Here is a good illustration of the old bromide that the smartest criminal leaves some clue in even the most carefully planned crime,’ mused Professor Fordney.

‘While in Colshire, a beautiful little English village, I was asked by the local police to assist them in a rather puzzling affair.

‘Suspicion of a particularly brutal murder had been directed toward an illiterate underworld character. He was accused of sending the following note found in the murdered man’s pocket:

sir john when i last seen you i sed i will kill you if the muney ain’t here by mundy; all of it

yurs truly, XX

‘When Wellington, the Chief Constable, asked my opinion, I told him the writer of the note, and therefore probably the murderer, was obviously an educated man. After explaining why I was sure of that, he agreed with me.

‘An odd sort of case. The murderer was found to be an extremely wealthy American whose sister had married the murdered man’s brother.’

‘Well,’ laughed Bill Cargo to whom Fordney had been speaking. ‘It’s getting too involved for me. I can’t figure it out.’

How had Fordney determined the American was an educated man?

10
The Professor Gives a Lesson

‘Cardoni came into Inspector Kelley’s office yesterday,’ said Fordney to his Criminology Class.

‘“I want to speak to you alone, Chief,” he said, eyeing me with frank suspicion.

‘“It’s all right. Go ahead,” said Kelley.

‘“I’ve got some information on the Curtis kidnapers. How much is it worth?”

‘“That all depends. Let’s hear the story.”

‘“They’re in one of my old buildings, down on the East Side. Three men and a woman. All you’ve got to do, Chief, is to take this, walk in an’ surprise ’em,” said our informer, tossing a Yale key on Kelley’s desk. “They rented a room from me about a week ago.”

‘“Sounds much too easy, Cardoni. I want something more definite than that. What makes you think they’re the kidnapers?”

‘“I heard them having an argument as I was doing some repair work in the hall. One of the guys threatened to squeal if he didn’t get a bigger cut. It sounded interestin’, so I peeked through the keyhole. They were sittin’ at a table in the middle of the room on which there was a stack of money.”

‘“Your story doesn’t yet show they had any connection with the Curtis kidnaping,” Kelley said.

“NO? Well, last night I heard them mention ‘Curtis’ several times. And that ain’t all,” continued Cardoni, with a triumphant air. “Here’s a code message one of them must have dropped. Well, Chief, how much do I get?”

“Get out!” hollered Kelley as he made a pass at Cardoni.’

Why was the informer treated so rudely?

11
Upstairs and Down

‘Let’s hear your story,’ said Inspector Kelley to Policeman Kirk, as Fordney dropped into a comfortable chair at Headquarters.

‘The neighbors were worried because they hadn’t seen old lady Brill about for a couple of days and asked me to investigate.

‘Getting no answer to my ring, I broke open the front door, ran upstairs, and, not seeing her, ran down and through the hall, unlocked the kitchen door, and found her on the floor, a bullet through her heart and a gun beside her. The windows and the doors to the porch and cellar were locked on the inside and nothing seemed to be disturbed.

‘Looked like suicide to me. However, I learned her nephew was at the house yesterday about the time the doctor said she died, so I brought him in,’ concluded Kirk.

‘Why did you run upstairs before examining the lower floor?’ asked Kelley.

‘Thought I heard a noise up there, sir,’ replied the policeman.