[COMPLETE STORY.] THE HARMONY OF DEATH

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXV, Issue 2, 15 July 1905, Page 49

[COMPLETE STORY.] THE HARMONY OF DEATH

By

C. Whittier Tate

HOW A DIABOLICAL SCHEME WAS DISCOVERED IN TIME AND MADE TO ACT AS A BOOMERANG.

AS I sat beside Saintsbury in the pew near the front of St. lake’s 1 felt a nervous chill come over me, and must have shivered perceptibly. It was the wedding of Leonora Curtyse and Wilson Carroll. We were listening to a violin solo, composed and rendered by Victor Satolini, a protege of Saintsbury, and it was probably the thought of the performer, as well as his strange music, which so affected me, for I invariably associated the fellow with the several members of the eat family. Oddly enough, I recalled at the moment the first occasion on which I had met the Italian about a year before. It was just after Saintsbury returned from Home with 7 his "find,'’ as he called the violinist. I entered our rooms late one afternoon and found my friend listening in rapt attention to this fellow, who was standing in the middle of the room, playing at random some fantastic creation of his own wild brain. I remember now that I had felt that same chill then, for the sight of the musician and his peculiar music repulsed me. He was graceful of form and carriage, his features were exquisitely moulded, and his brilliant, black eyes Hashed frankly upon me as I entered. Yet in the sinuous movement of his arm as he skilfully manipulated his bow, as well as in a certain indefinable expression of his eyes, there was something feline. Now. as we sat in the church, Saintsbury perceived me shrug my shoulders once or twice, and then spoke sharply: “What is the matter with you, Carl?” he snapped. “I’m blessed if I know, Jim,” I replied, “but I wish that confounded Italian friend of yours would stop his infernal wailing.” .Saintsbury smiled. “Once you take a dislike to a chap, Carl, angels couldn't convince you that you’re wrong. Satolini is a genius, and his work, is marvellous.” . “So is the devil’s,” I growled in an undertone, for the bridal party was coming down the aisle. I observed Leonora as she slowly marched past our pew, and it struck me that she appeared strangely agitated. Her face was.even paler than usual, and her naturally calm eyes wore a wild, distracted look. Once, in the few moments during which I could, observe her closely, she east a quick, nervous glance over to where Satolini was concealed in the bower of palms. I knew that she was a very nervous and high-strung girl, but 1 had not supposed that the. ceremony would have quite so noticeable an effect upon her. I whispered as much to Saintsbury, •who grunted something unintelligible in reply, for he, too, seemed rather out of kev. When I turned baek the wedding party were ranged before the altar, and the bishop was slowly advancing toward them. 1 noted that the organ accompaniment softly died away, and the soloist proceeded for a few bars alone. Then suddenly he struck an odd chord, and followed it by one which I am totally unable to describe. Suflice it to say that a convulsive tremour seemed to pass through the listeners, and we squirmed about uneasily in our seats. Jlv glance was riveted on Leonora at the moment, and I saw a violent trembling take possession of her, following which’ she swayed slightly, and then sank in a heap at her father's feet. Wilson Carroll, the groom, had a moment before come through the door from the sacristy, and he ran forward to catch her, but before ho could reach the spot, she lay on the marble steps. For a moment there was silence among the astonished spectators, and then confusion reigned, those who had come to see a fashionable wedding feel* ing instinctively that a tragedy had taken its place. And, indeed, it was so. Dr. Thorne, the Curtyses’ family physician, hurried up the aisle and hastily examined the girl, only to announce that she was dead.

Dead! A shudder passed through the assembly of relatives and friends, and the stricken groom stood there beside her father in silence —grief too great for words to express had swept over their hearts. „ The white-haired bishop, who so often had stood in death’s calm presence, tried to say something comforting, but he failed miserably and broke down. 1 turned to Saintsbury. but be was gone! This was a surprise, for he bad said nothing to me when* he left, and I wondered where lie had disappeared to. Facing about, I caught sight of Satolini leaning against one of the choir stalls. His cold, handsome features wore a cynical smile as he observed the group at the foot of the steps. Me was speaking, and his suave voice seemed like the purring of a eat. “Miss Curtyse has been poisoned,” he said; “it is a matter for the police, my friends.” To add to the general confusion, the two policemen who had been station’d at the entrance now entered the building, and pushed their way down the crowded aisle to the little group of excite persons on the altar steps. At this moment 1 saw Saintsbury slip out of the door which was used by the organist for access io the music room. He beckoned me to precede him out of the church, which I did nothing loath to leave that scene of consternation and death. Once outside, Saintsbury quickly joined me, and we proceeded in silence (town the street. “Well, what do you think of it?’’ he finally asked. “I had no idea,” I replied slowly, “that Leonora had such a wea k* heartr.” “Neither had I,” he remarked, "but Carl, do you realise that Miss Curty-e was m u rde red f” “Murdered-*” 1 -exclaimed in wonderment, for Satolini’s remark had ma le no particular impression on me. I re-garded-it merely ns an expression of the suspicious nature of the Italian. “What do you mean?” I added. “Poisoned?” He was silent a moment, as if weighing the possibility of my last query. “Not exactly.'’ he replied; “my theory of the means by which the crime was committed has not been fully .developed as yet. I must have time to investigate.” ‘But who would have done such a thing?’’ 1 demanded incredulously, could not possibly have iiad an enemy in the world.” “As 1 told you, 1 have not yet worked out my ideas, and must have time to go into it fully.” “Go into it!” I echoed, for -the thought of the Hon. James Saintsbury. a wealthy young litterateur and artist of considerable di-timtion, turning detective was astounding to me. “But really, Jim, hadn’t that better be left to those usually employed to ferret out these a flairs?’’ “No. Carl,” he replied, decidedly. “I am going to Investigate this matter on my own account. But let us hurry, for 1 leave town to-night, and must start as soon as possible.” I inquired where he was off to, for I knew that he had no previous intention of quitting London. “To Paris for a day or two on important business,” he answered shorrly, and I knew my friend too well to pursue the theme further. We soon arrived at tin* building in which the bachelor chambers we shared together were located, and on entering, Saintsbury proceeded to pack up a few articles in his portmanteau. He departed that night without further reference to the subject of Leonora’s death, except to advise mo, tor information as to how the crime was not committed. to follow (he results of the police investigations, as det ailed in the papers. My friend, although he possessed the

artistic temperament, was nevertheless exceedingly practical, and he was intensely interested in applied science. When anything aroused his curiosity, lie followed the effect to its cause with a thoroughness which was extraordinary. His scientific researches were marked with a penetrative ability, and such a complete lack of sentiment, that 1 realised he would make an admirable amateur sleuth. 1 regarded his judgment as uncommonly accurate, and was convinced that he had perceived some detail of this affair which had escaped all 1 he The newspaper theories as to the cause of the tragedy, I found, wore about equally divided between heart failure from the excitement and poison* ing. The coroner had taken up the matter, an inquest was set for the third day following, and during the interim an autopsy was to be performed. I was much surprised to see that Victor Satolini had been placed under arrest on suspicion, having been heard to make some threats against the deceased. The groom, so the papers stated, was prostrated by the shock, ami knowing Wilson as I did, I regarded it as little less than miraculous that he had survived the blow. 1 was at a loss to see how Satolini had been connected with the crime, if, indeed, any had been committed. Saintsbury, I remembered, had picked the fellow up in a dance hall in Rome, where In* was playing, and being a musician of considerable accomplishment himself, niy friend was struck by the Italian’s i emarkable rendition. lie spoke.to the man, who turned out to be a highly educated gentleman of good family, having until recently occupied the position of professor of psychology at the university, but because of his faith in various of the occult sciences, which he widely aired, the authorities had dismissed him; ami. being unable to secure a similar position, he had sunk into the employment in which my friend found him. (Saintsbury, 1 might mention, has travelled widely in the East, and is :-n authority and wild enthusiast regarding all branches of occultism.) So, drawn by common interests to the man. ami enamoured of his wonderful music, Saintsbury took him under his ample financial wing and brought him to London, where he had secured many lucrative appointments for him, and had introduced him to a few of his intimates. Among these was Miss Curtyse, with whom the'ltalian immediately fell headlong in love. She seemed dangerously interested in him for a time, and then suddenly refused to receive him again at her house. Satolini became very angry. and vowed revenge for his rebuff, but. both he and Leonora preserved silence as to its cause. When the engagement of the girl to Carroll was announced, he heatedly told my friend that they would never be married, but Saintsbury was too well acquainted with the Italian’s passing fils of temper to take any serious notice of his threats. 'rime had passed on and Satolini seemed to have forgotten the incident. When the day for the wedding was set hr asked Saintsbury to use his influence to have him appointed soloist to play during the ceremony, promising to compos? a bridal march especial I v for the

occasion. My friend had readily obtained Carroll’s consent, and Satolini certainly fulfilled his promise of an original composition. Thinking these facts over. I* could not perceive any evidence against the Italian, save a possible motive: and detest him as I did. still I could not believe him capable of deliberately poisoning the girl. The day before the inquest was appointed to be held, a packet was delivered me by a special messenger, who stated that he had bought it direct from Paris. It contained a short note from Saintsbury, which gave me no information as to the mystery, and eon tained a letter addressed to (hr prosecutor, with the request That 1 deliver it personally immediately upon receipt. Saintsbury mentioned that he would be obliged to remain in Paris several days longer. I visited the prosecutor, who was an acquaintance of ours, ami presented the letter. He read it over while 1 waited, and from a scrutiny of his face I gathet ed that he was astonished at its contents. When he laid it aside, however, he mentioned nothing of its purport, and 1 left the office considerably mystified. That evening the papers stated that the autopsy had revealed nothing, and the conclusion of the physicians was that death had resulted from perfectly natural causes. On the following day. when the inquest was called, it was adjourned for a week, at the request of the prosecutor, pending, the newspapers stated, further investigations. Satolini was held, awaiting the result of the inquest. I was completely bewildered by this turn of affairs, and now impatiently looked forward to the return of my friend, who, I felt sure, would clear up the matter. In the meantime the public lost interest in the case, which was referred to as “a very sad affair.” The press made some scathing remarks about the detention of the musician on insufficiency of evidence, and I could not but feel that they were right. A day or two later. I received a let ter postmarked Rome, in which Saints bury said that he was still gathering evidence, and would not arrive in Lon don until the time for the inquest, at which he requested my presence, stat ing that “I would have flu* surprise of my life,” but. giving no definite details of what to expect. The day for the hearing came at last, and I journeyed to the Coroner’s Court with a feeling of suppressed excitement. There was hut a handful of spectators present, and the prosecutor immediately opened his case. Dr. Thorne testified that the dvceas ed had a very weak heart ami in his opinion bad succumbed to the unwonted excitement. The physicians who had performed the autopsy stated that .no traces of poison could be found, and they, one and all subscribed to I home’s theory. Several persons te-fified that they had heard Satolini make the threats against the deceased which had caused his arrest and detention. I looked about for Saintsbury. lull he was not in t-he court room: and the prosecutor appeared to be too busy to interrupt with idle questions just then. My glance then wainlercd <wrr to where Satolini sat hes'ule his lawyer. He was apparently rather amused at the proceedings, ami regarded flu* witnesses with a supercilious smile. Hr nodded jauntily to me. but an oern sional gleam in his eye brought back the old feeling that I was in the presence of a great, human eat.

Still, if the man was guilty. I reflected, he certainly was a remarkable a?!or. The coroner looked wearily at the clock several times while the examination dragged along, as though he would like to be relieved of the formality and dismiss the matter then and there. • lust as the evidence seemed about exhausted, ami as I fancied that the coroner was impatiently preparing to discharge the prisoner. Saintsbury burst into the Courtroom, followed by a short, dark gentleman, apparently a Frenchman. The prosecutor immediately arose. ‘Your Honor,” said hr, addressing the Court, *‘l have one other and a most important witness who will tell Us what he knows about this affair. Mr James Saintsbury will take the witness stand.” The coroner appeared disgusted at this delay, but. my friend was sworn. lie told of his meeting with Satolini and of bringing him to England, of the introduction to Leonora, the Italian’s vain infatuation for her, bis threats, and all the details which I already knew. He staled his facts in a clear, incisive voice, absolutely void of all sentiment or passion, as though lie were lecturing on a subject which lie knew thoroughly, but in which lie had no interest.

He went on: “L attended the ceremony, where I had obtained permission for Signor Satolini to play an original composition for the wedding march, and during his rendition of it 1 noted that it was an extraordinary piece, and that it had a varied, though noticeable, effect upon those who heard it. With me it produced a sensation which 1 have felt but once before, when 1 listened to a snake charmer in India who controlled the performances of a most vicious reptile by the weird music which he produced with his violin.

“As .Miss Curty.se passed the pew where 1 was seated, I observed her features very closely, and noted that she had the peculiarly tense look of one who is hypnotised. She walked up the aisle as if under the influence of a spell, and the music then look on a still more extraordinary tone.

“As she stood before the altar, the organ accompaniment ceased, the soloist con tinning for a few bars alone to where the 'composition reaches a first or false climax. At, this point .Y ! ‘mokt* remarkable chord appears, such*a one as could only be produced by a' master violinist’.” Saintsbury paused a moment, looking

earnestly over the Courtroom, anti then he went on: ’Possibly you gentlemen have read something in regard to the new theory of musical hypnotism. ’lf so, you will appreciate. in' a measure, what 1 am about to explain. “Signor Satolini was, up to a year ago, professor of psychology in the University of Rome, from which I have just returned. lie was dismissed from that position because of his views concerning certain psychological phenomena, including hypnotism and various branches of occultism, which have not general sanction in conservative institutions. “He is an accomplished musician, and a short time before his dismissal he published a brochure on his theories of musical hypnosis, a copy of which I have, although its circulation was suppressed by tlie Roman authorities. In it he sets forth the result of a number of experiments, such as the hypnotising of various persons, notably women, by peculiar notes and series of chords rendered on a violin, also the effect of music upon cats, mice and snakes; and relates several instances where he succeeded in producing the death of a dog by striking certain chords, which, he states, shattered the animal's nervous system. “Then he draws his deductions that it would be possible fo kill a human being by Ihe same means, and that women would be more susceptible than men, also arguing that highly nervous persons are more readily affected by music than others.

“Satolini at one time exercised quite an influence over Miss Curtyse, by means. I have just discovered, of bis remarkable music; to such a degree that she became afraid of him and refused to see him when alone. This angered him greatly, and he stated to me, when her engagement to Mr Carroll was announced, that they would never be married.

“He was well acquainted with her exceedingly nervous temperament, and taking this into consideration he prepared to carry out his threat by composing a piece for her bridal march of such a nature that it would place her under hynotic influence, and then, at the climax, he sprang upon her already badly shattered nerves a chord calculated to break her high-strung nervous system.” Satolini's . counsel jumped up. .“I object, your honor, to this nonsensical parade of .wild ideas and unproved theories,” he shouted. There was a long argument between the lawyers, the coroner finally deciding to admit it, pending an examination of the precedents. “Go on, sir,” he said to Saintsbury. “I have with me M. Dupre, professor of psychology at the University of Paris. He is a recognised authority along this line, and lie will presently corroborate my statements.” said. Saintsbury calmly, “but first, lavish to play over Satolini’s ‘Bridal March,’ the score of which I obtained from the music rack during the commotion following the tragedy in St. Luke's. There is upon it some hand-writing of his, which I can identify,” he added. The prosecutor passed him up the sheets, together with a violin, which I instantly recognised as Satolini’s. It was a very fine instrument, made by Medard, one of the most famous successors of Stradivari us, and had a remarkable timbre. 1 learned afterward that my friend had obtained it on his way to the court at tlie Italian’s rooms, where he was well known by the servants. Saintsbury was tuning the instrument. and all eyes were turned in his direction, when suddenly Satolini leaped from his chair. Before lie could reach the door two bailiffs seized him, but he seemed to writhe out of their grasp as some great sinuous animal might have done, though he was finally subdued and the coroner ordered that lie be handcuffed. The fellow’s lawyer now came over to his manacled client and they whispered together for some moments; then the counsellor turned to the court. “Your honor, we object to the playing of this selection in ovidenc.?,” he said. Tlie prosecutor was on his feet instantly. ami a lively legal battle ensued, in which the latter was again tentatively victorious. Satolini then asked permission to leave the court room while the piece was being played, but the coroner denied tlie request. Saintsbury explained a few points regarding the music, and then began to play. He was an accomplished violinist nnd rendered the piece well.

t As the theme develop-d we became strangely restless, ami 1 am sure that every one there felt the spell of the composition. 1 glanced over to where Satolini sat. and wgs surprised to see’that he iftid completely'broken down. His head was sunk, his lithe body was 1 nnclicd up. and ho resembled, for all the world, a ferocious beast finally driven to bay. From time to time lie glared wildly at Saintsbury. Tlie violin wail 'd out the notes and there were few of us but would have liked to cover our cars and hear no more. Yet the thing fascinated cue, and we appeared, it struck me, like persons passing through a terrifying dream. Saiirtsbury finally struck the chord which he claimed had caused Leonora's death, and 1 saw ‘ very one about me shudder from the effect of it. Th? room was much smaller than the church, and We were under the direct influence of the music. There were several succeeding bars, and then 1 saw Satolini suddenly struggle to cover his ears, forgetting the handcuffs about his wrists. At the same instant Saintsbury struck the final chord. Satolini uttered a shriek and sprang from his seat, then a convulsive shock seemed to run down his spine and he fell to the floor. That last chord had been even more intense than th.? one which killed Leonora, and it was several moments before any one sufficiently recovered from its effects to pick up the Italian.

Dr. Pierce, the coroner’s physician, was the first to recover, anil he hurried over to where the musician lay and turned the body over. “He is dead.” lie exclaimed, after a hasty examination. It was true —Satolini had been killed by his own wild creation. It was Saintsbury’s theory that the fellow had accurately judged the point at which his own animal-lik.? system would be shattered and had originally intended to play on to the end and thus commit suicide, but that after he had killed the girl he lost

his courage. Certainly he was unable to ei-ptrol himself in the court-room wlisn the suicide chord was reached, and died like tlie coward he was. Noiie'of those there will ever forget that very irregular session of the coroner’s court, and we agreed that the score of the “Bridal March” should be immediately destroyed, for though fortunately no one save its creator suffered from the effects of tlie nerve-shattering composition, there is no telling what a public rendition of it might have caused.