CHAPTER XXI
THE RADIOGRAPH WITNESS
It was apparent that quick action was necessary if the mystery was everto be solved. Kennedy evidently thought so, too, for he did not waiteven until he returned to his laboratory to set in motion, through ourold friend, Commissioner O'Connor, the machinery that would result inwarrants to compel the attendance at the laboratory of all thoseinterested in the case. Then he called up Dr. Leslie and finally Dr.Blythe himself.
Back again in the laboratory, Kennedy employed the time in developingsome plates of the pictures he had taken, and by early evening, after abrief study of them, his manner indicated that he was ready.
Dr. Leslie, whom he had asked to come a little before the rest, arrivedearly, and a few moments later Dr. Blythe, very much excited by themessage he had received.
"Have you found anything?" he asked eagerly. "I've been trying all sortsof tests myself, and I can't prove the presence of a thing--not athing."
"Not ergot?" asked Kennedy quietly.
"No," he cried, "you can't prove anything--you can't prove that she waspoisoned by ergot."
Dr. Leslie looked helplessly at Kennedy, but said nothing.
"Not until recently, perhaps, could I have proved anything," returnedKennedy calmly. "Evidently you didn't know, Dr. Blythe, that the firstsuccessful isolation of an alkaloid of ergot from the organs in a caseof acute ergotism had been made by two Pittsburgh scientists. True, upto the present toxicologists had to rely on the physical properties ofthis fungus of rye for its identification. That may have made it seemlike a safe poison to someone. But I have succeeded in isolatingergotinin from the sample of the contents of the organs of the poorgirl."
Without pausing, he picked up a beaker. "Here I have the residue leftfrom an acid solution of an extract of the organs, treated withchloroform. It is, as you see, crystalline."
In his other hand he held up another beaker. "Next I got the residueobtained by extraction of the acid aqueous liquid with ether. That, too,is crystalline."
Kennedy displayed something in the shape of long needles, the sides ofwhich were not quite parallel and the ends replaced by a pair of faces.
Quickly he dissolved some of the crystals in sulphuric acid. Then headded another chemical from a bottle labeled ferro chlorid. The liquid,as we bent over it, changed quickly to a brilliant orange, then acrimson, next a green, and finally became a deep blue.
"What he has derived from the body responds to all the chemical testsfor ergotinin itself," remarked Dr. Leslie, looking quickly across atDr. Blythe.
Dr. Blythe said nothing.
I smelt of the stuff. Odors with me, as, I suppose, with other people,have a psychological effect, calling up scenes associated with them.This odor recalled something. I strove to recollect what it was. Atlast it came with a rush.
"The meat sauce!" I exclaimed involuntarily.
"Exactly," replied Kennedy. "I have obtained that bottle. There wasergot in it, cleverly concealed by the natural smell and taste of thesauce. But who put it there? Who had the knowledge that would suggestusing such a poison? Who had the motive? Who had been dining with herthat fatal evening?"
Kennedy had no chance to answer his questions, even if he had intendedto do so.
The door of the laboratory opened and Rita Tourville, in charge of oneof O'Connor's men, who looked as if he might have enjoyed it better ifthe lady had not been so angry, entered. Evidently O'Connor had timedthe arrival closely to what Craig had asked, for scarcely a moment laterFaber came whirling up in one of his own cars. Not a word passed betweenhim and Rita, yet I felt sure that they had some understanding of eachother. Leila arrived shortly, and it was noticeable that Rita avoidedher, though for what reason I could not guess. Finally came Jacot,blustering, but, having made the officer the safety-valve of hismercurial feelings, quickly subsiding before us. Dr. Blythe appearedamazed at the quickness with which Kennedy moved now.
"In ordinary times," began Kennedy, noting as he spoke the outwardattitude of our guests toward each other, "the world would have stoodaghast at the disappearance of such a masterpiece as the Fete byWatteau. It would have ranked with the theft of Gainesborough's Duchessof Devonshire, Da Vinci's Mona Lisa, the brown-skinned Madonna of theMexican convent, Millet's Goose-girl, and the Shepherd and Flock, theportrait of Saskia by Rembrandt, and other stolen masterpieces.
"But today the vicissitudes of works of art in war time pass almostunnoticed. Still there is a fascination exercised over the human mind byworks of art and other objects of historic interest, the more so becausethe taking of art treasures seems to have become epidemic in northernEurope."
He laid down what looked more like two rough sketches than photographs,yet they were photographs, though the relative brightness of color inphotographs was quite different. Outlines were displaced, also. Uglyspots and bands marred the general effect. They were peculiar.
"They are X-ray images or radiographs of two oil paintings, both claimedto be copies of Watteau's famous Fete," explained Kennedy, picking upone of them.
"In a radiograph of the body," he continued, "the difference ofbrightness that distinguishes the heart from the lungs, bones fromflesh, is due to the different densities of tissues. In these picturesthe same effect is produced by the different densities of the pigments,especially of their principal and heaviest elements."
He paused and laid down a chart. "For anyone who doubts what I am aboutto prove, I have made a scale of oil colors arranged in accordance totheir transparency to Roentgen rays by applying standard pigments tocanvas in patches of equal thickness.
"I think you can see what I am driving at. For instance, a design drawnin a heavy pigment will show through a layer of a less dense pigment,under the influence of the X-ray--just as bones show through flesh. Inother words, an ordinary photograph reproduces only the surface of apainting. A radiograph represents all the pigments underneath, alsoproducing effects in proportion to their densities.
"Let me show you the practical result of all this in studying suchradiographs, as worked out by a German student. I have made several veryinteresting and conclusive discoveries which these radiographs I havetaken illustrate."
He paused a moment, for the sake of emphasis. "You will notice," heresumed carefully, "the lace frill above the bodice on the figure ofMadame de Montespan, in this radiograph. In the painting the frill issharply defined and can be clearly distinguished from the bodice. Butlook at this radiograph. It appears tattered. It overflows the bodice.
"That led me to suspect that the bodice was widened as anafterthought--perhaps to diminish the area of white. That is the reasonwhy the white shows through the bodice in the radiograph. But in thisother one the bodice and the frill are substantially as they must be inthe original."
Again he paused, as if taking up a new point. "This radiograph,--numberone, I may call it--shows a broad light band on the right hand of thefigure, of which not a trace is to be found either in the otherradiograph or the painting itself. It represents the first rough sketchof an arm and hand.
"Again, in this first radiograph the ring and little fingers are closetogether and a sixth finger appears between the index and middlefingers. From that I infer that the hand hung limp with the fingersnearly in contact in the first sketch and that the fingers wereafterward separated. But in this second radiograph the arm, hand andfingers are perfect."
It was fascinating to listen to Kennedy as he delved down into theinvisible beneath the very oils and dug out their hidden mystery.
"Take the head and shoulder," he continued. "Radiograph number oneclearly shows flaking of the painting which has been painted over toconceal it. Ordinary light reveals no trace, either, of a long crack onthe shoulder which evidently was filled with a thick mass of pigmentcontaining too little white lead to obliterate the crack in theradiograph. White spots above the ear, in the radiograph, probablyindicate an excess of white lead used in retouching. At any rate,radiograph number two contains no such defects."
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sp; Kennedy paused before drawing the conclusion. "The radiograph of anoriginal picture reveals changes made by the artist in the course of hiswork. The counterfeiter, like other copyists, reproduces as accuratelyas possible the final result. That is all he can see. He makes errorsand corrections, but of a different kind. There are no serious changes.
"So, a radiograph of even a part of a picture shows the layers ofpigment that are hidden from the eye and the changes made during thecomposition of the work. One can easily distinguish the genuine from thespurious copies, for it is absolutely impossible for an imitator to makea copy that will stand the X-ray test.
"You see," he went on enthusiastically, "the most striking feature ofthese radiographs is their revelation of details of the first sketch,which have been altered in the finished picture. We actually obtain aninsight into the methods of an artist--" he paused, adding--"who hasbeen dead for centuries."
It was wonderful what Kennedy was getting out of those, to us, blurredand indistinct skiagraphs. I studied the faces before me. None seemed toindicate any disposition to break down. Kennedy saw it, too, andevidently determined to go to the bitter end in hammering out the truthof the mystery.
"One moment more, please," he resumed. "The radiograph shows even morethan that. It shows the possibility of detecting a signature that hasbeen painted over, in order to disarm suspicion. The detection is easierin proportion to the density of the pigment used for the signature andthe lack of density of the superposed coat."
He had laid the radiographs on the table before him, with a finger onthe corner of each, as he faced us.
"At the bottom of each of the paintings in question," he shot out,leaning forward, "you will find nothing in the way of a signature. Buthere, in radiograph number two, for instance, barely discernible, arethe words, "R. Fleming," quite invisible to the eye, but visible to theX-ray. These words have been painted over. Why? Was it to prevent anyonefrom thinking that the owner had ever had any connection with RhodaFleming?"
I was following Kennedy, but not so closely that I missed a fearfulglance of Rita from Faber to Jacot. What it meant, I did not know. Theothers were too intent on Kennedy's exposure to notice. I wonderedwhether someone had sought to conceal the fact that he had a copy of thefamous Watteau, made by Miss Fleming?
"Look at the bottom of the other radiograph, number one, further towardthe left," pursued Kennedy resistlessly. "There you will discover tracesof an 'A' and a 'W,' which do not appear on the painting. Between thesetwo are marks which can also be deciphered by the X-ray--'AntoineWatteau.' Perhaps it was painted over lightly so that an original couldbe smuggled in as a copy. More likely it was done so that a thief andmurderer could not be traced."
As Kennedy's voice rang out, more and more accusatory, Rita Tourvillebecame more and more uncontrollably nervous.
"It was suggested," modulated Kennedy, playing with his little audienceas a cat might with a mouse, "that someone murdered Rhoda Fleming withthe little-understood poison, ergot, because of an infatuation for thepicture itself. But the modern crook has an eye for pictures, just asfor other valuables. The spread of the taste for art has taught thesefellows that such things as old masters are worth money, and they willeven murder now to get them. No, that radiograph which I have labelednumber one is not a copy. It is of the genuine old master--the realWatteau.
"Someone, closely associated with Miss Fleming, had found out that shehad the original. That person, in order to get it, went even so far asto--"
Rita Tourville jumped up, wildly, facing Craig and crying out, "No,no--his _is_ the copy--the copy by Miss Fleming. It was I who told himto paint over the signature. It was I who called him away--bothnights--on a pretext--when he was dining with her--alone--called himbecause--I--I loved him and I knew--"
Faber was on his feet beside her in a moment, his face plainly showinghis feelings toward her. As he laid his hand on her arm to restrain her,she turned and caught a penetrating glance from Jacot's hypnotic eye.
Slowly she collapsed into her chair, covering her face with her hands,sobbing. For a moment a look of intense scorn and hatred blazed inLeila's face, then was checked.
Craig waved the radiograph of the real Watteau as he emphasized his lastwords.
"In spite of Rita Tourville's unexpected love for Faber, winning himfrom your victim, and with the aid of your wife, Leila, in the role ofmaid, the third member of your unique gang of art thieves, you areconvicted infallibly by my X-ray detective," thundered Craig as hepointed his finger at the now cowering Jacot.