Effective Robotics Programming with ROS Third Edition Anil Mahtani Luis Sanchez Enrique Fernandez Aaron Martinez
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- 6. Table of Contents Effective Robotics Programming with ROS Third Edition Credits About the Authors About the Reviewer www.PacktPub.com eBooks, discount offers, and more Why subscribe? Customer Feedback Preface What this book covers What you need for this book Who this book is for Conventions Reader feedback Customer support Downloading the example code Downloading the color images of this book Errata Piracy Questions 1. Getting Started with ROS PC installation Installing ROS Kinetic using repositories Configuring your Ubuntu repositories Setting up your source.list file Setting up your keys Installing ROS Initializing rosdep Setting up the environment Getting rosinstall How to install VirtualBox and Ubuntu Downloading VirtualBox
- 7. Creating the virtual machine Using ROS from a Docker image Installing Docker Getting and using ROS Docker images and containers Installing ROS in BeagleBone Black Prerequisites Setting up the local machine and source.list file Setting up your keys Installing the ROS packages Initializing rosdep for ROS Setting up the environment in the BeagleBone Black Getting rosinstall for BeagleBone Black Basic ROS example on the BeagleBone Black Summary 2. ROS Architecture and Concepts Understanding the ROS Filesystem level The workspace Packages Metapackages Messages Services Understanding the ROS Computation Graph level Nodes and nodelets Topics Services Messages Bags The ROS master Parameter Server Understanding the ROS Community level Tutorials to practise with ROS Navigating through the ROS filesystem Creating our own workspace Creating an ROS package and metapackage Building an ROS package Playing with ROS nodes
- 8. Learning how to interact with topics Learning how to use services Using Parameter Server Creating nodes Building the node Creating msg and srv files Using the new srv and msg files The launch file Dynamic parameters Summary 3. Visualization and Debugging Tools Debugging ROS nodes Using the GDB debugger with ROS nodes Attaching a node to GDB while launching ROS Profiling a node with valgrind while launching ROS Enabling core dumps for ROS nodes Logging messages Outputting logging messages Setting the debug message level Configuring the debugging level of a particular node Giving names to messages Conditional and filtered messages Showing messages once, throttling, and other combinations Using rqt_console and rqt_logger_level to modify the logging level on the fly Inspecting the system Inspecting the node's graph online with rqt_graph Setting dynamic parameters Dealing with the unexpected Visualizing nodes diagnostics Plotting scalar data Creating a time series plot with rqt_plot Image visualization Visualizing a single image 3D visualization Visualizing data in a 3D world using rqt_rviz
- 9. The relationship between topics and frames Visualizing frame transformations Saving and playing back data What is a bag file? Recording data in a bag file with rosbag Playing back a bag file Inspecting all the topics and messages in a bag file Using the rqt_gui and rqt plugins Summary 4. 3D Modeling and Simulation A 3D model of our robot in ROS Creating our first URDF file Explaining the file format Watching the 3D model on rviz Loading meshes to our models Making our robot model movable Physical and collision properties Xacro – a better way to write our robot models Using constants Using math Using macros Moving the robot with code 3D modeling with SketchUp Simulation in ROS Using our URDF 3D model in Gazebo Adding sensors to Gazebo Loading and using a map in Gazebo Moving the robot in Gazebo Summary 5. The Navigation Stack – Robot Setups The navigation stack in ROS Creating transforms Creating a broadcaster Creating a listener Watching the transformation tree Publishing sensor information
- 10. Creating the laser node Publishing odometry information How Gazebo creates the odometry Using Gazebo to create the odometry Creating our own odometry Creating a base controller Creating our base controller Creating a map with ROS Saving the map using map_server Loading the map using map_server Summary 6. The Navigation Stack – Beyond Setups Creating a package Creating a robot configuration Configuring the costmaps – global_costmap and local_costmap Configuring the common parameters Configuring the global costmap Configuring the local costmap Base local planner configuration Creating a launch file for the navigation stack Setting up rviz for the navigation stack The 2D pose estimate The 2D nav goal The static map The particle cloud The robot's footprint The local costmap The global costmap The global plan The local plan The planner plan The current goal Adaptive Monte Carlo Localization Modifying parameters with rqt_reconfigure Avoiding obstacles Sending goals
- 11. Summary 7. Manipulation with MoveIt! The MoveIt! architecture Motion planning The planning scene World geometry monitor Kinematics Collision checking Integrating an arm in MoveIt! What's in the box? Generating a MoveIt! package with the Setup Assistant Integration into RViz Integration into Gazebo or a real robotic arm Simple motion planning Planning a single goal Planning a random target Planning a predefined group state Displaying the target motion Motion planning with collisions Adding objects to the planning scene Removing objects from the planning scene Motion planning with point clouds The pick and place task The planning scene The target object to grasp The support surface Perception Grasping The pickup action The place action The demo mode Simulation in Gazebo Summary 8. Using Sensors and Actuators with ROS Using a joystick or a gamepad How does joy_node send joystick movements?
- 12. Using joystick data to move our robot model Using Arduino to add sensors and actuators Creating an example program to use Arduino Robot platform controlled by ROS and Arduino Connecting your robot motors to ROS using Arduino Connecting encoders to your robot Controlling the wheel velocity Using a low-cost IMU – 9 degrees of freedom Installing Razor IMU ROS library How does Razor send data in ROS? Creating an ROS node to use data from the 9DoF sensor in our robot Using robot localization to fuse sensor data in your robot Using the IMU – Xsens MTi How does Xsens send data in ROS? Using a GPS system How GPS sends messages Creating an example project to use GPS Using a laser rangefinder – Hokuyo URG-04lx Understanding how the laser sends data in ROS Accessing the laser data and modifying it Creating a launch file Using the Kinect sensor to view objects in 3D How does Kinect send data from the sensors, and how do we see it? Creating an example to use Kinect Using servomotors – Dynamixel How does Dynamixel send and receive commands for the movements? Creating an example to use the servomotor Summary 9. Computer Vision ROS camera drivers support FireWire IEEE1394 cameras USB cameras Making your own USB camera driver with OpenCV
- 13. ROS images Publishing images with ImageTransport OpenCV in ROS Installing OpenCV 3.0 Using OpenCV in ROS Visualizing the camera input images with rqt_image_view Camera calibration How to calibrate a camera Stereo calibration The ROS image pipeline Image pipeline for stereo cameras ROS packages useful for Computer Vision tasks Visual odometry Using visual odometry with viso2 Camera pose calibration Running the viso2 online demo Performing visual odometry with viso2 with a stereo camera Performing visual odometry with an RGBD camera Installing fovis Using fovis with the Kinect RGBD camera Computing the homography of two images Summary 10. Point Clouds Understanding the Point Cloud Library Different point cloud types Algorithms in PCL The PCL interface for ROS My first PCL program Creating point clouds Loading and saving point clouds to the disk Visualizing point clouds Filtering and downsampling Registration and matching Partitioning point clouds Segmentation Summary
- 14. Index
- 15. Effective Robotics Programming with ROS Third Edition
- 16. Effective Robotics Programming with ROS Third Edition Copyright © 2016 Packt Publishing All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embedded in critical articles or reviews. Every effort has been made in the preparation of this book to ensure the accuracy of the information presented. However, the information contained in this book is sold without warranty, either express or implied. Neither the authors, nor Packt Publishing, and its dealers and distributors will be held liable for any damages caused or alleged to be caused directly or indirectly by this book. Packt Publishing has endeavored to provide trademark information about all of the companies and products mentioned in this book by the appropriate use of capitals. However, Packt Publishing cannot guarantee the accuracy of this information. First published: September 2013 Second edition: August 2015 Third edition: December 2016 Production reference: 1231216 Published by Packt Publishing Ltd. Livery Place
- 17. 35 Livery Street Birmingham B3 2PB, UK. ISBN 978-1-78646-365-4 www.packtpub.com
- 18. Credits Authors Anil Mahtani Luis Sánchez Enrique Fernández Aaron Martinez Reviewer Lentin Joseph Commissioning Editor Kartikey Pandey Acquisition Editor Narsimha Pai Content Development Editor Abhishek Jadhav Technical Editor Gaurav Suri Copy Editors Safis Editing Dipti Mankame
- 19. Project Coordinator Judie Jose Proofreader Safis Editing Indexer Pratik Shirodkar Graphics Kirk D'Penha Production Coordinator Shantanu N. Zagade Cover Work Shantanu N. Zagade
- 20. Another Random Scribd Document with Unrelated Content
- 21. she went on, that what she was telling us was wrung from her by compulsion and was not said merely as so many words. "Madame she asked me to hand him an envelope." "And what then?" "In return I was to get one." "Did you get one?" "Yes, sir." Celeste was saying no more than necessary. "What was in it?" The girl shrugged in her best Parisian. I may have been convinced that she did know what was in the return envelope. But there was clearly no way to prove it. We were forced to take her word on the matter. Doyle himself realized that handicap. "Now, Celeste," began Doyle again, passing over that uncompleted phase, as though there was much he could have said, only refrained from doing so to go on to the next point, "what about the belladonna?" "She used it to brighten her eyes," returned the maid, as glibly as if she had practised the reply. "I mean—when did she use it last? Be careful. I know more than you think." "Yesterday," she replied, in a low voice, somewhat startled at Doyle's assumption of omniscience. "Why?" "Her eyes were dull." "She had been crying the night before—eh?" There was no answer.
- 22. "Ah—then there had been a quarrel between Mrs. Wilford and her husband the day before?" Doyle's assurance, like a clairvoyant having struck a profitable lead, overwhelmed Celeste. She said nothing, but it was evident that Doyle had hit upon something at least approximating the truth. "Did she threaten again to leave him?" persisted Doyle, now taking further advantage. "Oh—no—no—no! Madame would not quarrel. She would not leave monsieur—I know it." I glanced again at Kennedy. I saw that he placed no great reliance on what Celeste said, unless it were substantiated in some outside manner. It seemed to be about all we could get out of her, at least at this time. Moreover, following Doyle's wishes, we decided to let him handle both the Rascon affair and such watching and questioning of Celeste as may seem necessary. Kennedy was not unwilling. To tell the truth, the Rascon affair was indeed unsavory and a mess we could afford to let alone. "That's all, my girl, for the present," concluded Doyle. "Oh—by the way—not one syllable of this to Mrs. Wilford. And if you breathe a word I shall know it. It will go hard with you, you understand?" She bowed and McCabe took her away. It had been all right while she was with us. But the moment McCabe loomed up on the scene, it was different. She tossed her head with offended dignity and marched off. For some moments longer Doyle and we discussed the new phase of the case. It was greatly to Doyle's satisfaction that we allowed him to be unhampered in what he had unearthed. It had evidently worried him to think of having us two amateurs dragging across the trail he had uncovered. Finally he left us, satisfied that he had done a great stroke of work. For some moments after he was gone Kennedy was silent and in
- 23. deep study. "What do you make of it all?" I asked, breaking in on his thoughts, for fear something might interrupt before I could obtain Craig's personal impression. "Very important, perhaps—not for any evidence it may furnish in itself regarding what happened, for Rascon confessed that it was all faked, but important for its effect upon the minds of those concerned." Somehow I was not pleased at Doyle's discovery. In my heart I was hoping for anything that would relieve the load of suspicion on Honora. This did not. "You see," went on Kennedy, "it's not always what people know, the facts, that are important. Quite as important, oftentimes, are the things that they think they know, what they believe. People act on beliefs, you know." Much as I hated to admit it in this instance, I was forced to grant that it was true. "That may be," I confessed, "but why did she pay? Isn't it likely that it was a frame-up against her?" Kennedy smiled as he realized I was defending her. "Quite the case," he argued. "I suppose you know that some of these private detectives are really scandalous in their operations?" "Indeed I do." "Then can't you understand how a woman who knows might be driven desperate by it? Honora was well informed in the ways of the world. She knew that people would say, 'Where there's so much smoke, there's fire.' I'll wager that you've said the same thing, yourself, about articles in your own paper." I nodded reluctantly. It was a fact. "Why, this private-detective evil is so bad," he went on, vehemently, "that judges ordinarily won't take the testimony of a private
- 24. detective in this kind of case unless it is corroborated. And yet, in spite of that fact, you can always find some one to believe anything, especially in society, provided the tale is told circumstantially. She knew that, as I say. And it must have been exasperating. It must have preyed on her mind. No doubt, if you sift the matter down you'll find that it was just this move on the part of her husband that killed whatever spark of love there might have been glowing in her heart. Suspicion does that." I decided not to pursue my own argument. I felt that the more I attempted to defend or excuse Honora, the more Kennedy bent and twisted the thing to some other purpose of his own. I could only trust that something would come to the surface that would set things in a different light. Doyle had been gone some time and Kennedy was beginning to get a little nervous over what was delaying Doctor Leslie with the materials from the autopsy from which he expected to discover much that would straighten out the tangle of what it really was that had occurred in Wilford's office on that fatal night. We had about decided to take a run over to the city laboratories to find out, when the door opened and a hearty voice greeted us. It was no other than Doctor Leslie himself, with an assistant carrying the materials from the autopsy, as he had promised. The fact was that he had not been so very long. Events had crowded on one another so fast that we had not appreciated the passage of time. As the attendant laid the jars down on Craig's laboratory table, Leslie seemed to have almost forgotten about them himself. "I've made a discovery—I think," he announced, eagerly. "Perhaps it's gossip—but at any rate, it's interesting." "Fire away," encouraged Kennedy, listening, but at the same time preparing impatiently to plunge into the deferred analysis might now be made.
- 25. "I stopped at the Medical Society," hastened Leslie. "Do you know, it seems to be the gossip of the profession, under cover, about Lathrop and his wife. News spreads fast—especially scandal, like the talk of her knowing Wilford, which, thanks to some of Mr. Jameson's enterprising fraternity, the papers have already printed. Well, from what I hear, I don't believe that she really cared for Vail Wilford at all. It seems that she was using him just because he was a clever lawyer. As nearly as I can make it out, she had set herself to secure the divorce and capture Shattuck—wealthy, fascinating, and all that, you know." "Shattuck—she!" I exclaimed. Kennedy, however, said nothing, but shot a quick glance at me, recalling by it our still fresh meeting with both Vina and Shattuck, as well as the visit from Rascon. I remembered also that it had been evident at our first meeting with Doctor Lathrop that he had shown a keen interest in what his wife was doing. Had it been really jealousy—or was it merely wounded pride? Kennedy still did not venture to comment, but I saw that he was very thoughtful and that his eyes were resting on the book of Freud which we had been discussing some time before. What was passing in his mind I could not guess, but would have hazarded that it had something to do with Honora's dreams. At least the recollection of them flashed over me. Had Doctor Lathrop been the lion in her path, in some way? What had that dream meant? So far it had not been explained. Little more was said, but after a few moments' chat with Doctor Leslie, Craig set determinedly to work, making up for the time that had passed without any laboratory addition to his knowledge of the case. Leslie waited awhile, then excused himself. He had hardly gone when Craig looked up from his work at me. "Walter," he said, briskly, "I wish that you would try to find out more about that story of Leslie's."
- 26. Seeing that I was merely in the way, as he worked, now, I was delighted at the commission. I left him as he returned to the work of analyzing the materials Leslie had brought. For, I reasoned, here was a new angle of the case—Vina as the cause of all the trouble—and I was determined to find something bearing on it to add as my contribution to the ultimate solution.
- 28. I VIII THE POISONED GLASS went out, at Craig's suggestion, eager to discover something more of the interesting bit of gossip which Leslie had hinted at about Vina and Doctor Lathrop. In fact, the relations of this pair interested me only slightly less than those of Honora and Vail Wilford. Just where to go I was in some doubt, for I had not an extensive acquaintance in the medical profession of the city, in which both Doctor Lathrop and Doctor Leslie stood high in their respective fields. However, I reasoned that Lathrop's social position offered a more promising approach than even his professional connections. Thus, I determined to reassume the rôle of reporter for The Star which I had often used before with success in ferreting out odd bits of information of use to Kennedy. Accordingly, I soon found that the best point of departure was The Star itself and to the office I went, hoping to find our society reporter, Belle Balcom, whom I knew to be a veritable Social Register and Town Topics combined into one quick-witted personality. "I suppose, Miss Balcom," I began, as I found her finishing a spicy bit of copy in the reporters' room, while I sat on the edge of her typewriter table—"I suppose you're following this Wilford case closely?" She nodded vivaciously. "There hasn't been much to follow yet," she replied, eager to get whatever inside news she might for her society column. "Professor Kennedy is on the case, isn't he? You ought to know more about it than I do."
- 29. "Yes, he's on it," I replied, trying to head off any inquiry on her part that might be embarrassing. "And already we know that it will be quite involved." "I know it," she asserted, and, as we chatted, I found, to my surprise, that she did know about the people concerned in the case. "You see," she explained, when I ventured to express my astonishment, "it's my business to be acquainted with what passes as 'news' to the readers of the society page. And then, too, you know that scandal and gossip constitute much of the small talk of the social set which figures in the society notes. By the way, I suppose you know about that little affair between Mrs. Wilford and Mrs. Lathrop out at the Brent Rock Country Club?" I was at once interested. It was exactly the sort of thing I had sought. "No," I confessed. "But I can quite appreciate that an encounter between Honora and Vina would be likely to be spirited—and add to our knowledge of the case. What was it?" Belle Balcom smiled breezily. For, whatever she might say about the smart set, she had been writing their gossip so long that she, too, quite appreciated a choice morsel of scandal. I have noticed that none of my profession ever gets so blasé that a new piece of "inside" news loses its charm—and I confess that in that respect I am quite like my fraternity. "It seems," she retailed, "that the Wilfords and the Lathrops were at the club at a Saturday-night dance two or three weeks ago. Of course, you know, the attentions that Mr. Wilford had been paying to Mrs. Lathrop had been noticeable for some time, then, and had been the source of a good deal of discussion and comment among various members of their set." "Of course," I encouraged. "Well, it was just a bit more noticeable that night than at other times. Mr. Wilford was with her practically all the time. Of course, Honora Wilford had noticed it, not only that night, but many times
- 30. before. This time, though, she overheard one of the other women who didn't know that she was so near, talking about it and laughing with her partner." "That was the last straw," I anticipated. "Exactly. She waited until she saw Vail Wilford for a moment alone. As luck would have it, he was going for a sherbet for Mrs. Lathrop at the time. Mrs. Wilford was cutting. 'I suppose you realize that your wife is present to-night,' she said, icily. 'At least one dance is customary to let the world know that a husband and wife are on speaking terms.'" "What did he say to that?" "Oh, of course he mumbled that he had intended to dance with her next—but he went on and got the sherbet. The next dance he was too late." "Then Hades popped loose," I ventured. "You might say that. In the middle of the dance, Honora Wilford, who had declined more partners during the evening than most of the other women at the club had accepted, rose and deliberately walked across the dancing-floor, ostentatiously bowing good night to every one as she passed. You couldn't help noticing it. Even if any one had missed it, the summoning of her car would have been enough. It pulled up at the door of the club, with the cut-out open. It was scarcely eleven o'clock, too, and no one was thinking of going home at that time. Not a word was said. There was no scene. Yet that dance almost stopped." It was interesting, perhaps important for the case, yet not precisely what I had started out to find. "What of Doctor Lathrop?" I asked. "What did he do?" "He wasn't in the room at the time. He was down in the café. Wilford tried to brazen it out and Vina acted properly surprised. She can be quite an actress, too, when she wants to be. No, Doctor Lathrop didn't pay any attention to it—that is, not so any one saw it. But
- 31. Vance Shattuck did. I remember him particularly that evening. Of course I know many of the stories back in his life—and a good deal of what they say about him now. He had been one of the partners Honora had persistently refused, but they did sit out a dance together and I'm sure it was she that ended the tête-à-tête, not he. He seemed to have very little interest in any one else there, and I saw him taking in the whole affair. Once he started forward, as if to offer to escort her home, then checked himself. I think he seemed to be rather pleased than otherwise at the turn of events in that little affair." "Playing a deep game?" I suggested. Belle Balcom shrugged. "I don't know—perhaps. Really, I thought at the time that this was not a triangle, but the making of a fine quadrangle—that is," she laughed breezily, "if you include Vance Shattuck, I guess you would call it a pentangle." "At any rate, all grist for the society-news mill," I smiled. "Doctor Lathrop really knew of the incident, didn't he?—at least, learned of it afterward?" "I imagine so." "You know the talk about the Lathrops?" I hinted. "I think I do—and I knew it long before this case started people's tongues wagging, too." "I understand it wasn't Wilford, after all, that Vina was interested in —but Shattuck himself." "So they say. Society gets its geometry pretty mixed in some of these angles," she laughed. "But do you think there is anything in the story about them?" I asked. "You're a very persistent interviewer," she returned. "Perhaps—but like the honest Japanese schoolboy, 'I ask to know.' It isn't interviewing for publication, you know. Really, I feel that if you
- 32. do know anything, it is your duty to tell it. You can never know how valuable it may be to the case." "Of course—if you put it on a high ethical ground, that's different," she temporized. "I do. Listen. A crime has been committed. You have no more right to hold back one fact that may help to clear it up than you would to shield the person who committed it, in law, you know." "You're right. Yes—I'm convinced that it was the case—that she was merely playing with Vail Wilford, using him to get her freedom from the doctor, and that she was convinced that all she needed to do was to set herself to capture Vance Shattuck and he was as good as hers. That might be true of some men—sometimes," she added, "but Mr. Shattuck is too—too sophisticated to fall an easy prey to any one. You know, no woman can pursue him. He is a born pursuer." She paused a minute and nodded frankly at me. "No woman should trust him—yet many have. Some day, I really believe, such men always meet a woman who is more than a game-fish to an angler. Between you and me, I think Vance Shattuck has met her—and that there is nothing he would stop at to get her. But Vina is not that woman—nor can she understand. Yes, you are absolutely right in what you hinted at regarding Vina. I think you'll do well to watch the Lathrops—but mostly watch Vance Shattuck. There—I've said more than I intended to say, already. And remember, this is not a woman's intuition. I've been watching little things, here and there, and putting what I know together. Now—I've some more items to add to my column—it's short to-day." "Really, you ought to be a detective," I thanked her, as I turned from the desk. "You've helped me a great deal." "Flatterer," she returned, picking up a galley proof. "Come back again. If I hear anything more I'll let you know. I like Professor Kennedy." "Then it's to him you've been talking—not to me?" I asked, quizzically. "Or am I like John Alden—not speaking enough for
- 33. myself, Priscilla?" "Please—I must read this proof. No—you're not talking for Miles Standish. Still, I consider you quite harmless. If you don't go now, I'll make you write the notes to take the place of these turned slugs in the proof." I departed in better humor, as I always was after a verbal encounter with Belle Balcom. More than that, she had given me enough to put some phases of the case in an entirely new light. As I hastened back to the laboratory I realized that the scheming of Vina had given an entirely new twist to the case, one which was beyond my own subtlety to interpret. On the way out of the city room I ran into Brooks, whose assignment was the Police Headquarters. "Great case your friend Kennedy's on now," he paused to comment, and I knew that he was hinting for information. "Yes. By the way," I replied, determined not to give it to him, but to sound him before he had a chance to do the same to me, "what do you fellows up at Headquarters know about the Rascon Detective Agency?" "Rascon?" he answered, quickly, and I could see his mind was working fast and that if we needed any assistance in hounding that gentleman, Brooks would give it voluntarily, hoping to get his own story out of it. "Why, Rascon has a reputation. They say he has pulled some pretty raw deals. The city force doesn't think much of him, I can tell you. Is he mixed up in it?" "Yes—indirectly," I admitted. "I thought perhaps you might keep an eye on him. There may be a story in him. Only, your word on one thing: Not a sentence is to go into The Star about him until you've got my O. K." "I'll promise. What's he done? He does a good deal of shady business, I know."
- 34. I was not averse to telling Brooks a bit, for I knew I could trust him. Besides, if the truth is to be told, on a big case it is the newspaper men who do quite as much of the digging out the facts as the police do. The most efficient detectives in the world are the newspaper men—and the regular detectives get a great deal of credit for what the newspaper men do. "He has been up to a fine piece of double crossing," I replied. "Now all I can tell you is that Wilford hired him to watch Mrs. Wilford. He faked a good deal—meetings with Vance Shattuck and that sort of thing. She gave up to him to suppress some of the fakes. But—well, I'd like to know more. Doyle, I think, has the fellow right. Now be careful. Don't let either of them know I tipped you off—and remember, your typewriter is broken until I tell you it's all right to go ahead." "Thanks for the tip, Jameson," said Brooks, as I bustled away. "I'll look it up—and let you know." "Have you found anything yet?" I inquired, half an hour later, as I entered the laboratory and found Kennedy still deeply engaged in the study of the materials which had been brought over by Doctor Leslie. As I watched him I saw that he was at work over a quantitative analysis, rather than searching blindly for something as yet unknown. "Yes," he replied, frankly, to my surprise, though, on second thought, I recalled that only when he was in doubt was Kennedy secretive. "I have. What about you?" "The hint from Leslie was right," I replied, and as briefly as I could I repeated what Miss Balcom had told me. Kennedy listened attentively, and when I had finished merely remarked, "That explains some things that I haven't cleared up yet." "Now tell me what you have found," I urged. "I'm very eager to know."
- 35. "It was as I thought," he replied, slowly, "when I talked first with Leslie and Doyle. Wilford was not killed by atropin." "Then what was it?" I asked, mystified. "You remember, I found his pupils contracted almost to a pin-point?" he asked. "Yes. Was it morphine, as in the cases Doyle cited?" Craig shook his head. "No, it wasn't morphine, either. I had to go at it with practically no other hint. However, in this case the elimination of drugs was comparatively easy. I simply began testing for all I could recall that had the effect of contracting the pupils of the eyes. There was one thing that helped very much. The contraction was so marked in this case that I started off by looking for the drug which occurred to me next after morphine. I don't claim any uncanny intelligence for it, either. That part of it was all just pure luck." "Luck be hanged!" I exclaimed. "It's knowledge, preparedness. Would I ever have hit on it by luck?" "Still, I was as much surprised to find it so soon as you are to hear it." "I'll concede anything," I hastened. "I'm burning with curiosity. What was it?" "Wilford died of physostigmine poisoning," he answered. I suppose my face wrinkled with disappointment, for Craig laughed outright. "And—physostigmine—is what?" I inquired, quite willing to admit my ignorance if by that I might get ahead in understanding the mystery. "What does it do?" "It's a drug used by oculists, just as they use atropin, but for the precisely opposite effect. Atropin dilates the pupils; physostigmine contracts them. Both are pre-eminent in their respective properties." "Used by oculists!" I exclaimed, remembering suddenly that Honora Wilford's father, Honore Chappelle, had been an oculist.
- 36. Kennedy apparently did not wish to encourage my quick deduction, for he paid no attention. "Yes," he repeated, thoughtfully, "it causes a contraction of the pupils more marked than that produced by any other drug I know. That was why I tried the test for it first—simply because it was at the top of the scale, so to speak." Interested as I was in physostigmine, which, by the way, now came tripping off my tongue like the name of an old friend, I could not forget our first acquaintance with the case. "But what about the atropin in the glass—and in the bottle?" I asked, hesitatingly. "I did not say that I had cleared up the case," cautioned Craig. "It is still a mystery. Atropin has not only the opposite effect on the eye from physostigmine, but there is a further most unusual fact about the relationship of these two drugs. This is one of the few cases where we find drugs mutually antagonistic. And they are antagonistic to a marked degree in this instance, too." He paused a moment and I tried to follow him, but was too bewildered to make an inch of progress. Here was a man killed, we knew, by a drug which Craig had recognized. Yet in the glass on his desk had been found unmistakable traces of another drug. Was it an elaborate camouflage? If so, it seemed to be utterly purposeless, for, even if Kennedy had not discovered the poison, the veriest tyro at the game must have done so comparatively soon. I gave it up. I could see no chance that the atropin might have been put in the glass either to point or to obscure suspicion. It was too clumsy and a brain clever enough to have conceived the whole thing would not have fallen into such an egregious error. It was too easy. But, if the obvious were rejected, what remained? By the grave look on Kennedy's face I was convinced that there was a depth of meaning to this apparent contradiction which even he himself had not fathomed yet. "Atropin is an antidote to physostigmine," he continued. "Three and a half times the quantity almost infallibly counteracts the poisonous
- 37. dose." "But," I objected, "there was no trace of physostigmine in either glass, was there?" "No," he replied, "the glasses are here. I got them from Doyle's office while you were away. Not a trace in either. In fact, one of the glasses is really free from belladonna traces. The physostigmine I discovered was all in the stomach contents of Wilford—and there is a great deal of it, too. When you come right down to the point, we've taken a step forward—that's all. There's a long way to go yet." "But what of the physostigmine?" I queried. "How do you suppose it was given?" He shook his head in doubt. "I made a close examination. There were no marks on the body such as if a needle had been used. Besides, my investigations showed that a needle need not have been used. There are peculiar starch grains in the stomach associated with the poison. I admit I still have no explanation of that." For some minutes Kennedy worked along thoughtfully over his analysis, though I knew that he was merely endeavoring to determine in his own mind the next important move to make. "I think I'll vary my custom, in this case," he decided, finally. "I'm going to announce what I have discovered as I go along. If you tell it to one you may depend that it will spread to the others eventually. It will be interesting to see what happens. Often when you do that it's the quickest way to have the whole truth come out—especially if some one is trying to conceal it." There was a tap on the laboratory door and I rose to open it, admitting Doyle himself, quite excited. "What's the matter?" greeted Kennedy. "There's the deuce to pay up at the Wilford apartment," replied Doyle. "Shattuck called there to see Mrs. Wilford this afternoon and offer her his sympathy."
- 38. I glanced over to Kennedy, who nodded to me. It was evidently the visit about which we already knew. "I wasn't there," went on Doyle, "but McCabe was, of course. I don't know just what happened, but McCabe and Shattuck had some kind of run-in—Shattuck protested against the way we're holding Mrs. Wilford, and all that. Some mess!" He shook his head dubiously. "Why?" prompted Kennedy. "What's the trouble?" "Trouble enough. Mrs. Wilford's almost in a state of hysteria. When I tried to smooth things over she ordered me out of the apartment, said she'd receive whom she pleased and when and where she pleased." Kennedy scowled. I could well imagine Doyle "smoothing" anything over. A road-roller would have been tactful by comparison. "I think she's breaking," he pursued. "I know I'm on the right track. I thought you might like to know it. If I don't get a confession—say, I'll eat my shield!" With difficulty I restrained myself. It was not policy to offend Doyle, I reasoned. "Say," pursued Doyle, with a knowing nod, "you remember I found out that some one had been at that office the night Wilford was murdered?" "Yes," agreed Kennedy. "Well—who was it?" demanded Doyle. "Who must it have been? Who wanted her husband out of the way? Isn't it clear?" There was no mistake that he implied Honora. "By the way," interposed Kennedy, "I think I've found the poison that killed him." "Belladonna—eh?" "No. Just the opposite—physostigmine." Doyle stared. Yet he could not dispute.
- 39. "Maybe it was. But it's a poison just the same—ain't it?" he hastened. Then he added, aggressively, "I know what I'm going to do. I'm going to put a dictagraph in that place." Kennedy smiled encouragingly. I knew what his thought was. This was the height to which Doyle's mind reached. Yet, I reasoned, perhaps it was not without its value, after all.
- 41. "I IX THE ASSOCIATION TEST think I ought to visit Mrs. Wilford, after that," decided Kennedy, the moment Doyle had left. "This case is really resolving itself into a study of that woman, or rather of her hidden personality." Accordingly he doffed his acid-stained smock which he wore about the laboratory, and we set out for the Wilford apartment. When we arrived we were not surprised to find Honora in a highly nervous state, really bordering on hysteria, as we had been told by Doyle. McCabe had taken up a less conspicuous place in which to watch her, from a neighboring apartment in which he had got himself placed. As we met her, it actually seemed as if Honora had turned from Doyle and McCabe to Kennedy. "Were the dreams I wrote for you all right?" she asked, with a rather concealed anxiety. "Perfectly satisfactory," replied Kennedy, reassuringly. "I haven't finished with them yet. I'll tell you about them later. They were all right, but I never have enough of them. I suppose Doctor Lathrop used to say that too?" She nodded. Evidently Craig had won her confidence, in spite of what she must have known about us by this time. "Are there any other dreams that you have thought of since?" he inquired, pressing his advantage. She passed her hand over her forehead wearily and did not answer immediately.
- 42. "You look tired," Craig remarked, sympathetically. "Why not rest while we talk?" "Thank you," she murmured. As he spoke, Kennedy had been arranging the pillows on a chaise- longue. When he finished, she sank into them, resting her head, slightly elevated. Having discussed the various phases of the psychanalysis before with Kennedy, I knew that he was placing her at her ease, so that nothing foreign might distract her from the free association of ideas. Kennedy placed himself near her head and motioned to me to stand farther back where she could not see me. "Avoid all muscular exertion and distraction," he continued. "I want you to concentrate your attention thoroughly. Tell me anything that comes into your mind. Tell all you know of your feelings. Concentrate. Repeat all you think about. Frankly express all the thoughts you have, even though they may be painful and perhaps embarrassing." He said this soothingly and she seemed to understand that much depended upon her answers and the fact that she did not try to force her ideas. "Tell me—of just what you are thinking," he pursued. Dreamily she closed her eyes, as though allowing her thoughts to wander. "I am thinking," she replied, slowly, still with her eyes closed, "of a time just after Vail and I were married." She choked back the trace of a sob in her voice. "It is a dream," she went on. "I seem to be alone, crossing the fields —it is at the country estate where we spent our honeymoon. I see a figure ahead of me. It is Vail. But each time that I get close to him— he has disappeared into the forest that skirts the field."
- 43. She stopped. "Now—I see the figure—a figure—but—it is not Vail—no, it is another man—I do not know him—with another woman—not myself." She had opened her eyes as though the day-dream was at an end, but before she finished the sentence she had deliberately closed them again. From what I learned of the method of psychanalysis, I recalled that it was the gaps and hesitations which were considered most important in arriving at the truth regarding the cause of any nervous trouble. More than that, as she had said the words, it was easy to read into her remarks the fact that she knew there had been another woman in Wilford's life. It had wounded her deeply, in spite of the fact—as Kennedy had demonstrated by the Freud theory—that she really had not cared as greatly for Wilford as even she herself had thought. Even to me it was plain in this day-dream recollection that the man throughout it was really Vail. She knew it was Vail and she knew that woman with him was Vina. But in her wish that it should not be so, she had unconsciously changed the face on the "figure" she saw. It was her endeavor to preserve what she desired. She had unconsciously striven not to have it her husband, as it was not herself she saw in the vision with him. "Go on," urged Kennedy, gently. "Is there anything else that comes into your mind?" "Yes" she murmured, dreamily. "I am thinking about some of Vail's clients." "About any of them in particular?" hastened Kennedy, eager to catch the fleeting thought before she might either lose or conceal it. "About any one contemplating a suit for divorce?" "Y-yes," she replied before she realized it, her eyes opening as she came out of the half-relaxed state again, recalled by the sound of
- 44. Kennedy's voice. "What were you thinking about that person?" "That he was devoting entirely too much time to that sort of practice," she answered, quickly, avoiding a direct reply. "I can remember when I first knew him that he was in a fair way to be a very successful corporation lawyer. But the money and the cases seemed to come to him—the divorce cases, I mean." Kennedy ignored the last, explanatory part of the remark, as though he penetrated that it disguised something. He did not wish to put her on guard. "Devoting too much time to the practice?" he queried, "or do you mean you think he was devoting too much time and attention to the particular client?" Honora was thoroughly on guard now, in spite of him. Had she known, she probably would never have allowed herself to be led along until Kennedy struck on such an important "complex." But, quite evidently, she knew nothing of the Freud theory and trusted that her own control of herself was sufficient. And, indeed, it would have been had it not been that the dreams betrayed so much, that even she did not realize, to one who understood the theory. She did not answer. "Who is it that you were thinking about?" persisted Craig, refusing to be turned aside. "Oh, no one in particular," she replied, quickly, with a petulant little shrug. Yet it was plain now that she had been thinking of some one, both in the last remarks and perhaps in the day-dreams she had repeated. She was now trying to hide the name from us. By this time, also, Honora was sitting bolt-up-right on the chaise- longue, staring straight at Kennedy, as though amazed at her own frankness and a bit afraid of what it had led her into.
- 45. "Was it Vina Lathrop?" he asked, suddenly. "No—no!" she denied, emphatically. Yet to me it was evident that it most certainly had been Vina whom she had in mind. The association test of the waking state quite accorded with the results of the dream study which Kennedy had made. Moreover, it was now evident that Honora was holding back something, that she had taken refuge in silence. Vainly Kennedy now strove to restore the relaxed condition, in which she might let her thoughts wander at will. It was of no use. She simply would not let herself go. Deftly he changed his tactics altogether and the conversation drifted off quickly to inconsequential topics, such as would restore any shaken confidence in him. Clearly it was too early to come to an open break with her. Besides, I understood, Kennedy would rather have allowed her to believe that she had come off victor than to have pressed any minor advantage. "Please don't repeat this," he remarked, as we were leaving. "You can readily understand the reason. I quite appreciate the uncomfortable position in which the city detectives have placed you, Mrs. Wilford. Depend on me, I shall use every influence I have with them to mitigate the hardship of their presence. Besides, I know how brutally annoying they can be. You understand—my position is quite different. And if I can be of any assistance to you, no matter in what way, don't fail to command me." I had expected her to be a bit put out by our continued quizzing. On the contrary, however, she seemed to be actually grateful for Kennedy's sympathy, now that he had ceased treading upon dangerous ground. "Thank you," she sighed, as we rose to leave her. "I feel that you are always trying to be fair to me."
- 46. Kennedy hastened to assure her that we were, and we left before the final good impression could be destroyed. "I consider you an artist, Craig," I complimented, as we left the elevator a few minutes later, after a brief talk with McCabe in which Kennedy urged him to keep a close watch, but to seem not to be watching. "We go to cross-examine; we leave, friends. But I don't yet understand what the idea was of trying the association test on her." "Couldn't you see that when we came there she was in a state verging on hysteria?" he replied. "No doubt, if McCabe had stayed she would have been quite over the verge, too. But it would not have done them any good. They always think that if any one 'blows up,' as they call it, they'll learn the truth. That's not the case with a woman as clever as Honora. If she gave way to hysteria, she would be infinitely more likely to mislead them than to lead them. Besides, in the study of hysteria a good deal of what we used to think and practise is out of date now." I nodded encouragingly, not so much that I cared about the subject of hysteria, either what was known of it now or long ago, as that I was deeply interested in anything whatever that might advance the case. "Perhaps," he went on, "you are not aware of the fact that Freud's contribution to the study of hysteria and even to insanity is really of greater scientific value than his theories of dreams, taken by themselves. Study of Freud, as you can see, has led us already to a better understanding of this very case." "But what sort of condition did you think her in before you reassured her at the start by the association test?" Kennedy thought a moment. "Here is, I feel, what is known as one of the so-called 'borderline cases,'" he answered, slowly. "It is clearly a case of hysteria—not the hysteria one hears spoken of commonly as such, but the condition which scientists to-day know as such.
- 47. "By psychanalytical study of one sort or another we may trace the impulse from which hysterical conditions arise, penetrate the disguises which these repressed impulses or wishes must assume in order to appear in the consciousness. Such transformed impulses are found in normal people, too, sometimes. The hysteric suffers mostly from reminiscences which, paradoxically, may be completely forgotten. "Thus, obsessions and phobias have their origin, according to Freud, in sexual life. The obsession represents a compensation, a substitute for an unbearable sex idea, and takes its place in consciousness." "That is," I supplied, "in this case you mean that her husband's lack of interest in her was such an unbearable idea to her that in her mind she tried to substitute something to take its place?" "Precisely. In normal sex life, as you recall, the Freudists say that no neurosis is possible. Also recall what I said, that sex is one of the strongest of impulses, yet subject to the greatest repression—and hence is the weakest point in our cultural development. Often sex wishes may be consciously rejected, but unconsciously accepted. Well, now—hysteria arises through the conflict between libido—the uncontrollable desire—and sex repression. So, when they are understood, every hysterical utterance has a reason back of it. Do you catch the idea? There is really method in madness, after all. "Take an example," he continued. "When hysteria in a wife gains her the attention of an otherwise inattentive husband, it fills, from the standpoint of her deeper longing, an important place. In a sense it might even be said to be desirable for her. You see, the great point about the psychanalytic method, as discovered by Freud, is that certain symptoms of hysteria disappear when the hidden causes are brought to light and the repressed desires are gratified." "But," I interrupted, "how does this analysis apply to the case of Honora Wilford?" Kennedy considered a moment. "Very neatly," he answered. "Honora is suffering from what the psychanalysts call a psychic trauma—a
- 48. soul wound, as it were. Recall, for instance, what our dream analysis has already shown us—the old love-affair with Shattuck. To her mind, that was precisely like a wound would have been to the body. It cut deeply. Seemingly it had healed. Yet the old scar remained—a repressed love. It could no more be taken away than could a scar be taken from the face." "Yet was not open and visible like a physical scar," I agreed. "Quite the case. Then," he pursued, "came a new wound—the neglect by her husband whom she thought she loved, and the discovery of Vina Lathrop as the trouble-maker." "I begin to see," I returned. "Those two sets of facts, the old scar and the new wound, are sufficient, you think, to explain much in her life." "At least they explain about the hysteria. In her dream, a wave of recollection swept over her and, so to speak, engulfed her mind. In other words, reason could no longer dominate the cravings for love so long repressed. The unconscious strain was too great. Hence the hysteria—not so much the hysteria and the isolated outburst which Doyle saw, as the condition back of it which must have continued for days, perhaps weeks, previous to the actual murder of Wilford." I frowned and objected inwardly. Was Craig, also, laying a foundation for the ultimate conviction of Honora? Before I could question him there was an interruption at the door and I sprang to open it. "Hello, Jameson!" greeted Doctor Leslie; then catching sight of Kennedy, he entered and asked, "Have you discovered anything yet, Professor?" "Yes," replied Craig, "I should say I have." Leslie was himself quite excited and did not wait for Craig to go on. "So have I," he exclaimed, searching Kennedy's face as he spoke. "Did you find physostigmine in the stomach contents I sent you? I did in what I retained."
- 49. Kennedy nodded quietly. "What does it mean?" queried Leslie, puzzled. Kennedy shook his head gravely. "I can't say—yet," he replied. "It may mean much before we are through, but for the present I think we had better go slow with our deductions." Leslie evidently had hoped that Kennedy's active mind would have already figured out the explanation. But in cases such as this facts are more important than clever reasoning and Kennedy was not going to commit himself. "Doyle tells me that he has put in a dictagraph in the Wilford apartment," ventured Leslie, changing the subject unwillingly. "Has he learned anything yet?" "No, not yet. It's too soon, I imagine." Leslie paused and glanced about impatiently. Things were evidently not going fast enough to suit him. Yet, without Kennedy, he felt himself helpless. However, there was always one thing about Leslie which I was forced to like. He was no poser. Even when Doyle and the rest did not recognize Kennedy's genius, Leslie quite appreciated it. Although he was a remarkably good physician, he knew that the problems which many cases presented to him were such that only Kennedy could help him out. "You've heard nothing more about the gossip regarding Mrs. Lathrop and Shattuck?" I asked. "No, nothing about that. But there is something else that I have found out," he added, after a moment—"something that leads to Wilford's office." Kennedy was interested in a moment. We had been so occupied with the case that we had not even a chance to go down there yet, although that would have been one of the first things to do, ordinarily, unless, as in this case, we were almost certain that the
- 50. ransacking of Doyle and Leslie had destroyed those first clues that come only when one is called immediately on a case. "I've been looking about the place," went on Leslie, encouraged by Kennedy's interest. "I knew you'd be busy with other things. Well, I've discovered one of the other tenants in the building who did not leave his office on the same floor until just after seven o'clock last night." "Yes?" inquired Craig. "Did he see or hear anything?" Leslie nodded. "Early in the evening there must have been a woman who visited Wilford," he hastened. "Who was she?" "The tenant doesn't know." "Did he see her?" "No. He remembers hearing a voice on the other side of the door to the hall. He didn't see any one, he says, and it is quite likely. When I asked him if he overheard anything, he replied that he could catch only a word here and there. There was one sentence he caught as he closed his own door." "And that was—?" "Rather loudly, the woman said: 'Give her up, Vail. Can't you see she really doesn't love you—never did—never could?'" Leslie paused to watch the effect of the sentence on us. I, too, studied Kennedy's face. "Did she leave soon?" asked Craig. Leslie shook his head. "I don't know. The tenant left and that was all I heard." "Well, Wilford was not dead then, we know," considered Craig. "Could she have been there when he died? Of course you don't know." "It's possible," replied Leslie.
- 51. To myself, I repeated the words: "Give her up, Vail. Can't you see she really doesn't love you—never did—never could?" A few hours ago I should have been forced to conclude that only Vina might have said it, knowing as she did the peculiar nature of Honora and the relations between Wilford and his wife. But now, with the hints discovered by Leslie and amplified by Miss Balcom, I could not be so sure. The remark might have come equally well from Honora herself and have applied to Vina—for Honora, too, might have known that it was not love for Wilford that prompted Vina's interest in her husband, but the desire to make sure of her divorce for the purpose of being free to capture Vance Shattuck. Interesting and important as the discovery was, it did not help us, except that it added to the slender knowledge we had of what had taken place at the office. A woman had been there. Who it was, whether Honora or Vina, we did not know. Nor did we know how long she had stayed, whether she might merely have dropped in and have gone before the crime was committed. "You've told Doyle?" asked Kennedy. "Naturally. I had to tell him. Remember, it was much later that he found that some one else had been at the office, according to the janitor's story." "I do remember. That's just what I have been thinking about. I suppose he'll tell it all around—he usually does use such things in his third-degree manner." Leslie smiled, then sobered. "Quite likely. Does it make any difference?" "Not a bit. I'm rather hoping he does tell it around. I've decided in this case to play the game with the cards on the table. Then some one is sure to make a false move and expose his hand, I feel sure." Quickly I canvassed the situation. All might be involved, in one way or another—either Vina or Honora might have been the early visitor; later it might have been either Shattuck or even Lathrop, or perhaps
- 52. neither, who had been there, as far as the janitor's vague observation was concerned. "There was something strange that went on at that office the night of the murder," ruminated Kennedy. "Maybe there is some clue down there, after all, that has been overlooked. You've searched, you say. Doyle has searched. The place must have been pretty well gone over. However, I can see nothing left but to search again," he decided, quickly. "We must go down there."