Murder by the Clock by Rufus King — Read

Lieutenant Valcour was out of the door in no time and racing along the corridor up the stairs to the floor above. Somewhere -- somewhere was the entrance to the stairs leading farther up to the attic. Ah! -- softly now, quietly, not to disturb or shock. Thank God the treads were firm and didn't creak.

There was a window in the attic, at the garden end of its peak, not a large window, but big enough to permit the cold white light of morning to illumine the place grayly.