Queen was silent for a moment. Then—“We’ll let that pass for the moment, Morgan. Why did you go to see Field Sunday night?”
“For a very good reason,” answered the lawyer bitterly. “On Thursday, a week ago, Field called me up at my office and told me that he was making a last business venture that entailed his procuring fifty thousand dollars at once. Fifty thousand dollars!” Morgan laughed dryly. “After he had milked me until I was as flabby financially as an old cow. … And his ‘business venture’—can you imagine what it was? If you knew Field as well as I did, you would find the answer on the racetracks and the stock-market. … Perhaps I’m wrong. Perhaps he was hard pressed for money and was cleaning up his old ‘accounts.’ At any rate, he wanted the fifty thousand on a brand-new proposition—that he would actually return the original documents to me for that sum! It was the first time he had even suggested such a thing. Every time—before—he had insolently asked blackmail for silence. This time it was a buy-and-sell proposition.”
“That’s an interesting point, Mr. Morgan,” put in Ellery, with a flicker of his eyes. “Did anything in his conversation definitely lead you to suspect that he was ‘cleaning up old accounts,’ as you phrase it?”
“Yes. That is why I said what I did. He gave me the impression that he was hard up, meant to take a little vacation—vacation to him would be a three-year jaunt on the Continent, nothing less—and was soliciting all his ‘friends.’ I never knew that he was in the blackmailing business on a large scale; but this time—!”
Ellery and the Inspector exchanged glances. Morgan forged ahead.
“I told him the truth. That I was in a bad way financially, chiefly through him, and that it would be absolutely impossible for me to raise the preposterous amount he demanded. He merely laughed—insisted on getting the money. I was most anxious to get the papers back, of course. …”
“Had you verified from your cancelled vouchers the fact that some were missing?” asked the Inspector.
“It wasn’t necessary, Inspector,” grated Morgan. “He actually exhibited the vouchers and letters for my benefit in the Webster Club two years ago—when we had the quarrel. Oh, there is no question about it. He was top man.”
“Go on.”
“He hung up on me with a thinly veiled threat last Thursday. I had tried desperately during the conversation to make him believe that I would in some way meet his demands, because I knew that he would have no scruples at all about publishing the papers once he realized he had sucked me dry. …”
“Did you ask him if you could see the documents?” asked Ellery.
“I believe I did—but he laughed at me and said I would see the color of my checks and letters when he saw the color of my money. He was nobody’s fool, that crook—he was taking no chances on my doing him in while he brought out the damning evidence. … You see how frank I am. I will even admit that at times the thought of violence entered my head. What man could keep from thinking such thoughts under those circumstances? But I never entertained homicidal fancies seriously, gentlemen—for a very good reason.” He paused.
“It wouldn’t have done you any good,” said Ellery softly. “You didn’t know where the documents were!”
“Exactly,” returned Morgan with a tremulous smile. “I didn’t know. And with those papers liable to come to light at any time—to fall into anybody’s hands—what good would Field’s death have done me? I would probably have exchanged a bad taskmaster for a worse. … On Sunday night, after trying for three terrible days to get together the money he asked for—with no result—I decided to come to a final settlement with him. I went to his apartment and found him in a dressing-gown, much surprised and not at all apprehensive at seeing me. The living-room was upset—I did not know at the time that Mrs. Russo was hiding in the next room.”
He re-lit the cigar with shaking fingers.
“We quarreled—or rather I quarreled and he sneered. He would listen to no argument, to no plea. He wanted the fifty thousand or he would send the story around—and the proofs. It sort of got on my nerves after a while. … I left before I lost control of myself utterly. And that’s all, Inspector, on my word of honor as a gentleman and as an unfortunate victim of circumstances.”
He turned his head away. Inspector Queen coughed and threw his cigar into the ashtray. He fumbled in his pocket for the brown snuffbox, took a pinch, inhaled deeply and leaned back in his chair. Ellery suddenly poured a glass of water for Morgan, who took it and drained it.
“Thank you, Morgan,” said Queen. “And since you have been so frank in your story, please be honest and tell me whether you threatened Field’s life Sunday night during your quarrel. It is only fair to let you know that Mrs. Russo flatly accused you of Field’s murder because of something you said in the heat of the moment.”
Morgan grew pale. His brows twitched and his eyes, glazed and worried, stared pitifully at the Inspector.
“She was lying!” he cried hoarsely. Several diners nearby looked around curiously, and Inspector Queen tapped Morgan’s arm. He bit his lip and lowered his voice. “I did nothing of the sort, Inspector. I was honest with you a moment ago when I said that I had thought savagely from time to time of killing Field. It was a crippled, silly, pointless thought. I—I wouldn’t have the courage to kill a man. Even at the Webster Club when I lost my temper completely and shouted that threat I didn’t mean it. Certainly Sunday night—please believe me rather than that unscrupulous, money-grubbing harlot. Inspector—you must!”
“I merely want you to explain what you said. Because,” said the Inspector quietly, “strange as it may seem,
