…AND READ THE PAGE

Prasilov, famed, fabulous Polish astrologer lay dead on the floor of the observation room in the ancient stone tower in Cornwall, England. Shot through the right temple, his massive head rested on a huge book of astrological charts, opened at his own horoscope! Death had been instantaneous. A Revolver of foreign make lay a few feet distant.

Fordney and Chief Inspector Tarwheel puffed up the long flight of stone steps.

“The door was locked, sir. We had to force it,” explained Constable Stibble.

The chief inspector picked up a key lying near the body, looked inquiringly at Stibble.

“That’s where it was, sir. I’ve disturbed nothing.”

Had Prasilov locked himself in and dropped the key there hoping to confuse or baffle the police? Had it fallen from the lock when the door was forced, or was there another explanation? The Professor wondered.

The body removed, Fordney lifted the massive book and studied the seer’s horoscope. There was a small amount of blood where his head had rested. Peering over Fordney’s shoulder, Tarwheel read the prediction on that date of the noted astrologer’s death by suicide!

“Something queer here, Professor,” the chief inspector observed. “But”—he frowned—“what could it be but suicide?”

“Murder,” said Fordney.

Fifteen minutes later, from halfway down the stone steps, Tarwheel called a bit impatiently: “Coming, Professor?”

The astrological book under his arm, Fordney took a last look around. Blood on the floor previously hidden by the book was the only remaining evidence of the tragedy.

“Coming,” he answered. Didn’t Tarwheel know it was murder?

What clue proved not suicide but murder? Turn page for solution.