“Just how much money was Field demanding, Mrs. Russo?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” she said, laughing disdainfully. “Monte was no piker. All he wanted was—fifty thousand dollars!”
The Inspector seemed unmoved. “Go on.”
“So there they were,” she continued, “jabbering back and forth, with Monte getting colder and Morgan getting madder. Finally Morgan picked up his hat and yelled, ‘I’ll be damned, you crook, if I’m going to be milked any more! You can do what you please—I’m through, do you understand? I’m through for good!’ He was blue in the face. Monte didn’t get up from his chair. He just said, ‘You can do as you please, Benjamin my friend, but I give you exactly three days to hand that money over. And no bargaining, remember! Fifty thousand, or—but surely I don’t have to remind you of the unpleasant consequences of refusal.’ Monte sure was slick,” she added admiringly. “Could sling the lingo like a professional.
“Morgan kept fiddling with his hat,” she went on, “just as if he didn’t know what to do with his hands. Then he exploded with, ‘I told you where you get off, Field, and I mean every word of it. Publish those papers, and if it means ruin to me—I’ll see to it that it’s the last time you’ll ever blackmail anybody!’ He shook his fist under Monte’s nose, and looked for a minute as if he was going to do him in then and there. Then all of a sudden he quieted down and without saying another word walked himself out of the apartment.”
“And that’s the story, Mrs. Russo?”
“Isn’t it enough?” she flared. “What are you trying to do—protect that murdering coward? … But it isn’t all. After Morgan left, Monte said to me, ‘Did you hear why my friend said?’ I made believe I didn’t, but Monte was wise. He took me on his lap and said playfully, ‘He’ll regret it, Angel. …’ He always called me Angel,” she added coyly.
“I see. …” The Inspector mused. “And just what did Mr. Morgan say—that you took for a threat against Field’s life?”
She stared at him incredulously. “Good gravy, are you dumb, or what?” she cried. “He said, ‘I’ll see to it it’s the last time you’ll ever blackmail anybody!’ And then when my darling Monte was killed the very next night. …”
“A very natural conclusion,” smiled Queen. “Do I understand that you are preferring charges against Benjamin Morgan?”
“I’m not preferring anything except a little peace, Inspector,” she retorted. “I’ve told you the story—now do what you want with it.” She shrugged her shoulders and made as if to rise.
“One moment, Mrs. Russo.” The Inspector held up a small and delicate finger. “You referred in your story to some ‘papers’ that Field was holding over Morgan’s head. Did Field at any time during the quarrel between them actually bring out these papers?”
Mrs. Russo looked the old man coolly in the eye. “No sir, he didn’t. And make believe I’m not sorry he didn’t, too!”
“A charming attitude of yours, Mrs. Russo. One of these days. … I hope you understand that your skirts are not entirely—ah—clean in this matter, in a manner of speaking,” said the Inspector. “So please consider very carefully before you answer my next question. Where did Monte Field keep his private documents?”
“I don’t have to consider, Inspector,” she snapped, “I just don’t know. If there was any chance of my knowing I would, don’t worry.”
“Perhaps you made a few personal forays of your own when Field was absent from his apartment?” pursued Queen, smiling.
“Perhaps I did,” she answered with a dimpling cheek. “But it didn’t do any good. I’d swear they’re not in those rooms. … Well, Inspector, anything else?”
The clear voice of Ellery seemed to startle her. But she coquettishly patted her hair as she turned towards him.
“As far as you know, Mrs. Russo,” said Ellery icily, “from long and no doubt intimate association with your gallant Leander—how many different silk tophats did he possess?”
“You’re the original crossword puzzle, aren’t you?” she gurgled. “As far as I know, Mr. Man, he had only one. How many does a guy need?”
“You’re certain of that, I suppose,” said Ellery.
“Sure’s you’re born, Mr.—Queen.” She contrived to slip a caress into her voice. Ellery stared at her as one stares at a strange zoological specimen. She made a little moue and turned about gayly.
“I’m not so popular around here so I’ll beat it. … You’re not going to put me in a nasty cell, are you, Inspector? I can go now, can’t I?”
The Inspector bowed. “Oh yes—you may go, Mrs. Russo, under a certain amount of surveillance. … But please understand that we may still require your delightful company at some not distant date. Will you remain in town?”
“Charmed, I’m sure!” she laughed and swept out of the room.
Velie snapped to his feet like a soldier and said, “Well, Inspector, I guess that settles it!”
The Inspector sank wearily into his chair. “Are you insinuating, Thomas, like some of Ellery’s stupid fiction-sergeants—which you are not—that Mr. Morgan be arrested for the murder of Monte Field?”
“Why—what else?” Velie seemed at a loss.
“We’ll wait a while, Thomas,” returned the old man heavily.
XVI
In Which the Queens Go to the Theatre
Ellery and his father regarded each other across the length of the little office. Velie had resumed his seat with a puzzled frown. He sat quietly for a time in the growing silence, seemed suddenly to make a decision and asking permission left the room.
The Inspector grinned as he fumbled with the lid of his snuffbox.
“Did you get a scare, too, Ellery?”
Ellery, however, was serious. “That woman gives me a case of Wodehouse willies,” he said, shuddering. “Scare is much too mild a word.”
“I couldn’t for the moment grasp the significance of her attitude,” said Inspector Queen. “To think that she knew, while we have been fumbling around. … It scattered my wits.”
“I should say the interview was highly successful,” commented Ellery. “Principally because I’ve been gathering a
