The Roman Hat Mystery (3 page)

Another flurry, at the main entrance, caused many people despite Doyle
’
s vigorous orders to rise in their seats for a clearer view. A group of bluecoats were hustling their way inside, their night sticks ready. Doyle heaved a gargantuan sigh of relief as he saluted the tall man in plainclothes at their head.

“
What
’
s up, Doyle?
”
asked the newcomer, frowning at the pandemonium raging about them. The bluecoats who had entered with him were herding the crowd to the rear of the orchestra, behind the seat section. People who had been standing tried to slip back to their seats; they were apprehended and made to join the angry cluster jammed behind the last row.

“
Looks like this man
’
s been murdered, Sergeant,
”
said Doyle.

“
Uh-huh.
”
The plainclothes man looked incuriously down at the one still figure in the theatre
―
lying at their feet, a black-sleeved arm flung over his face, his legs sprawled gawkily under the seats in the row before.

“
What is it
―
gat?
”
asked the newcomer of Doyle, his eyes roving.

“
No, sir
―
don
’
t seem to be,
”
said the policeman.
“
Had a doctor from the audience look him over the very first thing
―
thinks it
’
s poison.
”

The Sergeant grunted.
“
Who
’
s this?
”
he rapped, indicating the trembling figure of Pusak by Doyle
’
s side.

“
Chap who found the body,
”
returned Doyle.
“
He hasn
’
t moved from the spot since.
”

“
Good enough.
”
The detective turned toward a compact group huddled a few feet behind them and asked, generally:
“
Who
’
s the manager here?
”

Panzer stepped forward.

“
I
’
m Velie, detective-sergeant from headquarters,
”
said the plainclothes man abruptly.
“
Haven
’
t you done anything to keep this yelling pack of idiots quiet?
”

“
I
’
ve done my best, Sergeant,
”
mumbled the manager, wringing his hands.
“
But they all seem incensed at the way this officer
”―
he indicated Doyle apologetically
―”
has been storming at them. I don
’
t know how I can reasonably expect them to keep sitting in their seats as if nothing had happened.
”

“
Well, we
’
ll take care of that,
”
snapped Velie. He gave a rapid order to a uniformed man nearby.
“
Now
”―
he turned back to Doyle
―”
how about the doors, the exits? Done anything yet in that direction?
”

“
Sure thing, Sergeant,
”
grinned the policeman.
“
I had Mr. Panzer here station ushers at every door. They
’
ve been there all night, anyway. But I just wanted to make sure.
”

“
You were right. Nobody try to get out?
”

“
I think I can vouch for that, Sergeant,
”
put in Panzer meekly.
“
The action of the play necessitates having ushers posted near every exit, for atmosphere. This is a crook play, with a good deal of shooting and screaming and that sort of thing going on, and the presence of guards around the doors heightens the general effect of mystery. I can very easily find out for you if . . .
“

“
We
’
ll attend to that ourselves,
”
said Velie.
“
Doyle, who
’
d you send for?
”

“
Inspector Queen,
”
answered Doyle.
“
I had the publicity man, Neilson, phone him at headquarters.
”

Velie allowed a smile to crease his wintry face.
“
Thought of everything, didn
’
t you? Now how about the body? Has it been touched at all since this fellow found it?
”

The cowering man held in Doyle
’
s hard grasp broke out, half-crying.
“
I
―
I only found him, officer
―
honest to God, I
―”

“
All right, all right,
”
said Velie coldly.
“
You
’
ll keep, won
’
t you? What are you blubbering about? Well, Doyle?
”

“
Not a finger was laid on the body since I came over,
”
replied Doyle, with a trace of pride in his voice.
“
Except, of course, for a Dr. Stuttgard. I got him out of the audience to make sure the man was dead. He was, and nobody else came near.
”

“
You
’
ve been busy, haven
’
t you, Doyle? I
’
ll see you won
’
t suffer by it,
”
said Velie. He wheeled on Panzer, who shrank back.
“
Better trot up to the stage and make an announcement, Mr. Manager. The whole crew of
‘
em are to stay right where they are until Inspector Queen lets them go home
―
understand? Tell them it won
’
t do any good to kick
―
and the more they kick the longer they
’
ll be here. Make it plain, too, that they
’
re to stick to their seats, and any suspicious move on anybody
’
s part is going to make trouble.
”

“
Yes. Yes. Good Lord, what a catastrophe!
”
groaned Panzer as he made his way down the aisle toward the stage.

At the same moment a little knot of people pushed open the big door at the rear of the theatre and stepped across the carpet in a body.

There was nothing remarkable in either the physique or the manner of Inspector Richard Queen. He was a small, withered, rather mild-appearing old gentleman. He walked with a little stoop and an air of deliberation that somehow accorded perfectly with his thick gray hair and mustaches, veiled gray eyes and slender hands.

As he crossed the carpet with short, quick steps Inspector Queen was far from impressive to the milling eyes that observed his approach from every side. And yet, so unusual was the gentle dignity of his appearance, so harmless and benevolent the smile that illumined his lined old face, that an audible rustle swept over the auditorium, preceding him in a strangely fitting manner.

In his own men the change was appreciable. Doyle retreated into a corner near the left exits. Detective-Sergeant Velie, poised over the body
―
sardonic, cold, untouched by the near-hysteria about him
―
relaxed a trifle, as if he were satisfied to relinquish his place in the sun. The bluecoats guarding the aisles saluted with alacrity. The nervous, muttering, angry audience sank back with an unreasoning relief.

Inspector Queen stepped forward and shook hands with Velie.

“
Too bad, Thomas, my boy. I hear you were going home when this happened,
”
he murmured. To Doyle he smiled in a fatherly fashion. Then, in a mild pity, he peered down at the man on the floor.
“
Thomas,
”
he asked,
“
are all the exits covered?
”
Velie nodded.

The old man turned back and let his eyes travel interestedly about the scene. He asked a low-voiced question of Velie, who nodded his head in assent; then he crooked his finger at Doyle.

“
Doyle, where are the people who were sitting in these seats?
”
He pointed to three chairs adjoining the dead man
’
s and four directly to the front of them in the preceding row.

The policeman appeared puzzled.
“
Didn
’
t see anybody there, Inspector . . . .
”

Queen stood silent for a moment, then waved Doyle back with the low remark to Velie,
“
In a crowded house, too . . . . Remember that.
”
Velie raised his eyebrows gravely.
“
I
’
m cold on this whole business,
”
continued the Inspector genially.
“
All I can see right now are a dead man and a lot of perspiring people making noise. Have Hesse and Piggott direct traffic for a while, eh, son?
”

Velie spoke sharply to two of the plainclothes men who had entered the theatre with the Inspector. They wriggled their way toward the rear and the people who had been crowding around found themselves pushed aside. Policemen joined the two detectives. The group of actors and actresses were ordered to move back. A section was roped off behind the central tier of seats and some fifty men and women packed into the small space. Quiet men circulated among them, instructing them to show their tickets and return to their seats one by one. Within five minutes not a member of the audience was left standing. The actors were cautioned to remain within the rope enclosure for the time being.

In the extreme left aisle Inspector Queen reached into his topcoat pocket, carefully extracted a brown carved snuffbox and took a pinch with every evidence of enjoyment.

“
That
’
s more like it, Thomas,
”
he chuckled.
“
You know how fussy I am about noises . . . . Who is the poor chap on the floor
―
do you know?
”

Velie shook his head.
“
I haven
’
t even touched the body, Inspector,
”
he said.
“
I got here just a few minutes before you did. A man on the 47th Street beat called me up from his box and reported Doyle
’
s whistle. Doyle seems to have been doing things, sir . . . . His lieutenant reports favorably on his record.
”

“
Ah,
”
said the Inspector,
“
ah, yes. Doyle. Come here, Doyle.
”

The policeman stepped forward and saluted.

“
Just what,
”
went on the little gray man, leaning comfortably against a seat back,
“
just what happened here, Doyle?
”

“
All I know about it, Inspector,
”
began Doyle,
“
is that a couple of minutes before the end of the second act this man
”―
he pointed to Pusak, who stood wretchedly in a corner
―”
came running up to me where I was standin
’
in the back, watchin
’
the show, and he says,
‘
A man
’
s been murdered, officer! . . . A man
’
s murdered!
’
He was blubberin
’
like a baby and I thought he was pie-eyed. But I stepped mighty quick and came over here
―
the place was dark and there was a lot of shootin
’
and screamin
’
on the stage
―
and I took a look at the feller on the floor. I didn
’
t move him, but I felt his heart and there wasn
’
t anything to feel. To make sure he was croaked I asked for a doctor and a gent by the name of Stuttgard answered my call . . . .
”

Inspector Queen stood pertly, his head cocked on a side like a parrot
’
s.
“
That
’
s excellent,
”
he said.
“
Excellent, Doyle. I
’
ll question Dr. Stuttgard later. Then what happened?
”
he went on.

“
Then,
”
continued the policeman,
“
then I got the usherette on this aisle to beat it back to the manager
’
s office for Panzer. Louis Panzer
―
that
’
s the manager right over there . . . .
”

Queen regarded Panzer, who was standing a few feet to the rear talking to Neilson, and nodded.
“
That
’
s Panzer, you say. All right, all right . . . Ellery! You got my message?
”

He darted forward, brushing aside Panzer, who fell back apologetically, and clapped the shoulder of a tall young man who had slipped through the main door and was slowly looking about the scene. The old man passed his arm through the younger man
’
s.

“
Haven
’
t inconvenienced you any, son? What bookstore did you haunt tonight? Ellery, I
’
m mighty glad you
’
re here!
”

He dipped into his pocket, again extracted the snuffbox, sniffed deeply
―
so deeply that he sneezed
―
and looked up into his son
’
s face.

“
As a matter of fact,
”
said Ellery Queen, his eyes restlessly roving,
“
I can
’
t return the compliment. You just lured me away from a perfect book-lover
’
s paradise. I was at the point of getting the dealer to let me have a priceless Falconer first edition, intending to borrow the money from you at headquarters. I telephoned
―
and here I am. A Falconer
―
Oh, well. Tomorrow will do, I suppose.
”

The Inspector chuckled.
“
Now if you told me you were picking up an old snuffbox I might be interested. As it is
―
trot along. Looks as if we have some work tonight.
”

They walked toward the little knot of men on the left, the old man
’
s hand grasping his son
’
s coatsleeve. Ellery Queen towered six inches above his father
’
s head. There was a square cut to his shoulders and an agreeable swing to his body as he walked. He was dressed in oxford gray and carried a light stick. On his nose perched what seemed an incongruous note in so athletic a man
―
a rimless pince-nez. But the brow above, the long delicate lines of the face, the bright eyes were those of a man of thought rather than action.

They joined the group at the body. Ellery was greeted respectfully by Velie. He bent over the seat, glanced earnestly at the dead man, and stepped back.

“
Go on, Doyle,
”
said the Inspector briskly.
“
You looked at the body, detained the man who found it, got the manager . . . . Then what?
”

“
Panzer at my orders closed all the doors at once and saw that no one either came in or went out,
”
answered Doyle.
“
There was a lot of fuss here with the audience, but nothing else happened.
”

“
Right, right!
”
said the Inspector, feeling for his snuffbox.
“
You did a mighty good job. Now
―
that gentleman there.
”

He gestured in the direction of the trembling little man in the corner, who stepped forward hesitantly, licked his lips, looked about him with a helpless expression, and then stood silent.

“
What
’
s your name?
”
asked the Inspector, in a kindly tone.

“
Pusak
―
William Pusak,
”
said the man.
“
I
’
m a bookkeeper, sir. I was just
―”

“
One at a time, Pusak. Where were you sitting?
”

Pusak pointed eagerly to the sixth seat from the aisle, in the last row. A frightened young girl in the fifth seat sat staring in their direction.

“
I see,
”
said the Inspector.
“
Is that young lady with you?
”

“
Yes, sir
―
yes, sir. That
’
s my fiancee, sir. Her name is Esther
―
Esther Jablow . . . .
”

A little to the rear a detective was scribbling in a notebook. Ellery stood behind his father, glancing from one exit to another. He began to draw a diagram on the flyleaf of a small book he had taken from his topcoat pocket.

The Inspector scrutinized the girl, who immediately averted her eyes.
“
Now, Pusak, I want you to tell me just what happened.
”

“
I
―
I didn
’
t do a thing out of the way, sir.
”

Inspector Queen patted his arm.
“
Nobody is accusing you of anything, Pusak. All I want is your story of what happened. Take your time
―
tell it your own way . . . .
”

Pusak gave him a curious glance. Then he moistened his lips and began.
“
Well, I was sitting there in that seat with my
―
with Miss Jablow
―
and we were enjoying the show pretty much. The second act was kind of exciting
―
there was a lot of shooting and yelling on the stage
―
and then I got up and started to go out the row to the aisle. This aisle
―
here.
”
He pointed nervously to the spot of carpet on which he was standing. Queen nodded, his face benign.

“
I had to push past my
―
Miss Jablow, and there wasn
’
t anybody except one man between her and the aisle. That
’
s why I went that way. I didn
’
t sort of like to
”―
he hesitated apologetically
―”
to bother people going out that way in the middle of the most exciting part . . . .
”