The Spider

When the student of medicine, Richard Bracquemont, decided to move
into room #7 of the small Hotel Stevens, Rue Alfred Stevens (Paris 6),
three persons had already hanged themselves from the cross-bar of the
window in that room on three successive Fridays.

The first was a Swiss traveling salesman. They found his corpse on
Saturday evening. The doctor determined that the death must have
occurred between five and six o'clock on Friday afternoon. The corpse
hung on a strong hook that had been driven into the window's cross-bar
to serve as a hanger for articles of clothing. The window was closed,
and the dead man had used the curtain cord as a noose. Since the
window was very low, he hung with his knees practically touching the
floor-a sign of the great discipline the suicide must have exercised
in carrying out his design. Later, it was learned that he was a
married man, a father. He had been a man of a continually happy
disposition; a man who had achieved a secure place in life. There was
not one written word to be found that would have shed light on his
suicide...not even a will.

Furthermore, none of his acquaintances could recall hearing anything
at all from him that would have permitted anyone to predict his end.

The second case was not much different. The artist, Karl Krause, a
high wire cyclist in the nearby Medrano Circus, moved into room ¹7 two
days later. When he did not show up at Friday's performance, the
director sent an employee to the hotel. There, he found Krause in the
unlocked room hanging from the window cross-bar in circumstances
exactly like those of the previous suicide. This death was as
perplexing as the first. Krause was popular. He earned a very high
salary, and had appeared to enjoy life at its fullest. Once again,
there was no suicide note; no sinister hints. Krause's sole survivor
was his mother to whom the son had regularly sent 300 marks on the
first of the month.