“Where?”
“In her suite at the Chancellor.”
“Unchaperoned?”
“Pul-ease, Mr. Queen!” The Inspector grinned lasciviously. “What d’ye think this is, Old Home Week? Sure! And that maid?she’s the one that gave Thomas all the dope?is ready to testify to goings-on.”
Ellery raised his eyebrows. “Goings-on? Kirk and the Llewes wench?”
“Put your own construction to it,” snickered the Inspector. “I’m a pure-minded old cuss who always believes the best of everybody. But at night with a raving beauty in the kind of clothes she wears, or rather doesn’t wear . . . “ He shook his head. “And, after all, this Kirk lad is young and he looks normally lusty to me. He began to take her around to parties and he introduced her to all his friends and to his family?regular tea-party, it was. Then came the dawn.”
“Meaning?”
“The dawn,” repeated the Inspector dreamily. “He woke up, I guess. Got tired of playing tiddledywinks, or whatever the hell it was he was playing. Anyway, he started to try to avoid her. Well, fawncy that. What d’ye think happened? The usual thing. She hung on with that damn’ smile of hers. I’ll bet she hangs pretty!”
“It’s not difficult to see what must have happened,” said Ellery thoughtfully, “and I suppose you yourself could see it if you’d stop playing the vicarious satyr?which is sheerest pose, my dear pater, as only I can know?and get back to normal. When Jo Temple appeared on the scene young Donald must have suffered a complete change of heart. From the tender and slightly unorthodox love-scene I inadvertently blundered into with Macgowan three days ago he fell in love with her on the spot. Naturally, exit Miss Llewes as far as young Lothario is concerned. And Miss Llewes?who’s playing a deep and dirty game?pleasantly refuses to exit. Result?Mr. Kirk has headaches and goes about with a Help!-the-tigress-is-after-me sort of look on his honest young pan.”
“This Sewell woman has a hold on him, I’m positive,” said the Inspector. “A hold he can’t wriggle out of. He’s in a tough spot. And then if she’s trying to bleed him . . . Say, he is in a tough spot! Or do you think he’s strapped financially because he’s been paying her heavy sugar for blackmail?”
“It’s possible that that may have contributed, dad, although I feel sure his financial troubles antedated the advent of Miss Llewes. I know one thing now, however, which was dark mystery before.”
“Well?”
“The secret of that scribbled message Glenn Macgowan left for Kirk the evening of the murder. Remember what it said? ‘I know now. You’re dealing with a dangerous character. Go easy until I can talk to you aside. Don, watch your step.’”
“Maybe,” grumbled the Inspector. “I was half-hoping Macgowan was referring to our fat little corp-us.”
“No, no, I’m sure that’s not the case. Macgowan obviously was suspicious of the Llewes woman from the beginning?he’s a shrewd chap, Macgowan, and with his strong streak of moral rectitude would probably have been suspicious of such a dazzling worldly creature under any circumstances . . . .”
“Macgowan?” said the Inspector dubiously. “Never struck me that way. I thought he’s sort of a regular guy.”
“Oh, he’s regular enough; but there are some things one can’t live down, and one of them is a moral streak. His family burned witches in Salem Town. I don’t mean that Macgowan’s above affairs of the flesh, to put it politely; but he is above?or below?the notoriety and scandal that sometimes result from them. It’s a pragmatic morality.”
“All right, all right; I give up. So what?”
“He must have looked the Llewes wench up quietly and discovered something about her the very afternoon of the murder. I suspect his source of information may have been identical with Velie’s?the woman’s maid. At any rate, he felt that he had to warn Kirk against her at the earliest opportunity?ergo, the note. Yes, yes, I’m sure that’s it.”
“Sounds plausible,” admitted the Inspector grudgingly.
“Shows you that it never pays to use strong-arm methods, father dear. You’ve been reading too much Hammett. I’ve always said that if there’s one class who should be excluded from the reading of contemporary blood-and-thunder of the so-called realistic school of fiction it’s our worthy police force. Breeds shocking illusions of grandeur . . . . Where was I? Yes; here we’ve solved a mystery without so much as a suspicion in the minds of the principals that we know where the body is?er?buried.”
“Don’t you think Donald Kirk has discovered his note from Macgowan is missing?” grinned the Inspector.
Ellery murmured: “I doubt it. He was in a terrific stew that night. And even if he has discovered it’s missing, he must think he lost it somewhere. Certainly he doesn’t suspect me of burglarious methods. That’s one advantage of looking scholarly.”
“He hasn’t acted funny towards you?”
“That’s precisely why I made that really scintillant assertion.”
“Hmm.” The Inspector watched Ellery struggle into his coat. “I have the funny notion something’s due to break on this case.”
“Baggage?”
“You wait,” said the Inspector slyly, “and see.”
* * *
Ellery had not long to wait. He was lounging comfortably before his fire that evening reading aloud to Djuna?who looked fiercely bored?the Mock Turtle’s oration when the Inspector burst into their apartment.
“Ell What d’ye think?” The old gentleman flung his hat down and thrust his jaw at Ellery.
Ellery put the book down and Djuna, with a huge sigh of relief, slipped away. “It’s broken?”
“It’s broken. Busted wide open, my son. Wide open!” The Inspector strutted up and down in his coat like some latter-day Napoleon. “We searched the Sewell woman’s rooms at the Chancellor this afternoon.”
“Do tell!”
“I’m giving it to you. She was out somewhere and we worked fast. What d’ye think we found?”
“I haven’t the remotest idea.”
“Jewelry!”
“Ah.”
The Inspector sneezed cheerfully over his snuff. “Well, it was a plain figure. Trench cables that the woman’s got a yen for jewels; and here we find a slough of the stuff hidden in her apartment. Damned good stuff, too; no junk. So we assumed it wasn’t hers and I sent the boys hot on the trail to try and trace the ice. Know what we found?”
Ellery sighed. “I suppose this is vengeance. Am I as exasperating to you at times as you are to me now? No I WTiat?”
“We hit the regular jewelry trade and found that the ice is unique. Old pieces in rare settings with histories attached to ‘em. Collectors’ items.”
“Good lord!” exclaimed Ellery. “Don’t tell me the fool stole them!”
“As to that,” murmured the Inspector, “I wouldn’t know, y’see. But one thing I do know.” He yanked at Ellery’s lapel. “Get out of that chair; we’re going places. One thing I do know . . . . The trade to a man told us who’s supposed to own that stuff. Matter of common knowledge, they
