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Authors: Ellery Queen

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BOOK: The Roman Hat Mystery
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That was very decent of you, Pusak,

said the Inspector, smiling.


Yes, sir. So I walked down the row, feeling my way, because it was pretty dark in the theatre, and then I came to

to this man.

He shuddered, and continued more rapidly.

He was sitting in a funny way, I thought. His knees were touching the seat in front of him and I couldn

t get past. I said,

I

m sorry,

and tried again, but his knees hadn

t moved an inch. I didn

t know what to do, sir

I

m not nervy, like some fellows, and I was going to turn around and go back when all of a sudden I felt the man

s body slip to the floor

I was still pressed up close to him. Of course, I got kind of scared

it was only natural . . . .


I should say,

said the Inspector, with concern.

It must have given you quite a turn. Then what happened?


Well, sir . . . . Then, before I realized what was happening, he fell clean out of his seat and his head bumped against my legs. I didn

t know what to do. I couldn

t call for help

I don

t know why, but I couldn

t somehow

and I just naturally bent over him, thinking he was drunk or sick or something, and meant to lift him up. I hadn

t figured on what I

d do after that


I know just how you felt, Pusak. Go on.


Then it happened

the thing I told this policeman about. I

d just got hold of his head when I felt his hand come up and grab mine, just like he was trying awfully hard to get a grip on something, and he moaned. It was so low I could hardly hear it, but sort of horrible. I can

t quite describe it exactly . . . .


Now, we

re getting on,

said the Inspector.

And?


And then he talked. It wasn

t really talking

it was more like a gurgle, as if he was choking. He said a few words that I didn

t catch at all, but I realized that this was something different from just being sick or drunk, so I bent even lower and listened hard. I heard him gasp,

It

s murder . . . . Been murdered . . .

or something like that . . . .


So he said,

It

s murder,

eh?

The Inspector regarded Pusak with severity.

Well, now. That must have given you a shock, Pusak.

He snapped suddenly,

Are you certain this man said

murder

?


That

s what I heard, sir. I

ve got good hearing,

said Pusak doggedly.


Well!

Queen relaxed, smiling again.

Of course. I just wanted to make sure. Then what did you do?


Then I felt him squirm a little and all of a sudden go limp in my arms. I was afraid he

d died and I don

t know how

but next thing I knew I was in the back telling it all to the policeman

this policeman here.

He pointed to Doyle, who rocked on his heels impersonally.


And that

s all?


Yes, sir. Yes, sir. That

s all I know about it,

said Pusak, with a sigh of relief.

Queen grasped him by the coat front and barked,

That isn

t all, Pusak. You forgot to tell us why you left your seat in the first place!

He glared into the little man

s eyes.

Pusak coughed, teetered back and forth a moment, as if uncertain of his next words, then leaned forward and whispered into the Inspector

s astonished ear.


Oh!

Queen

s lips twitched in the suspicion of a smile, but he said gravely,

I see, Pusak. Thank you very much for your help. Everything is all right now

you may go back to your seat and leave with the others later on.

He waved his hand in a gesture of dismissal. Pusak, with a sickly glance at the dead man on the floor, crept around the rear wall of the last row and reappeared by the girl

s side. She immediately engaged him in a whispered but animated conversation.

As the Inspector with a little smile turned to Velie, Ellery made a slight movement of impatience, opened his mouth to speak, appeared to reconsider, and finally moved quietly backwards, disappearing from view.


Well, Thomas,

sighed the Inspector,

let

s have a look at this chap.

He bent nimbly over the dead man, on his knees in the space between the last row and the row directly before it. Despite the brilliant sparkle of light from the fixtures overhead, the cramped space near the floor was dark. Velie produced a flashlight and stooped over the Inspector, keeping its bright beam on the corpse, shifting it as the Inspector

s hands roved about. Queen silently pointed to an ugly ragged brown stain on the otherwise immaculate shirtfront.


Blood?

grunted Velie.

The Inspector sniffed the shirt cautiously.

Nothing more dangerous than whisky,

he retorted.

He ran his hands swiftly over the body, feeling over the heart and at the neck, where the collar was loosened. He looked up at Velie.


Looks like a poisoning case, all right, Thomas. Get hold of this Dr. Stuttgard for me, will you? I

d like to have his professional opinion before Prouty gets here.

Velie snapped an order and a moment later a medium-sized man in evening clothes, olive-skinned and wearing a thin black mustache, came up behind a detective.


Here he is, Inspector,

said Velie.


Ah, yes.

Queen looked up from his examination.

How do you do, Doctor? I am informed that you examined the body almost immediately after it was discovered. I see no obvious sign of death

what is your opinion?


My examination was necessarily a cursory one,

said Dr. Stuttgard carefully, his fingers brushing a phantom speck from his satin lapel.

In the semidark and under these conditions I could not at first discern any abnormal sign of death. From the construction of the facial muscles I thought that it was a simple case of heart failure, but on closer examination I noticed that blueness of the face

it

s quite clear in this light, isn

t it? That combined with the alcoholic odor from the mouth seems to point to some form of alcoholic poisoning. Of one thing I can assure you

this man did not die of a gunshot wound or a stab. I naturally made sure of that at once. I even examined his neck

you see I loosened the collar

to make sure it was not strangulation.


I see.

The Inspector smiled,

Thank you very much, Doctor. Oh, by the way,

he added, as Dr. Stuttgard with a muttered word turned aside,

do you think this man might have died from the effects of wood alcohol?

Dr. Stuttgard answered promptly.

Impossible,

he said.

It was something much more powerful and quick-acting.


Could you put a name to the exact poison which killed this man?

The olive-skinned physician hesitated. Then he said stiffly,

I am very sorry, Inspector; you cannot reasonably expect me to be more precise. Under the circumstances . . .

His voice trailed off, and he backed away.

Queen chuckled as he bent again to his grim task.

The dead man sprawled on the floor was not a pleasant sight. The Inspector gently lifted the clenched hand and stared hard at the contorted face. Then he looked under the seat. There was nothing there. However, a black silk-lined cape hung carelessly over the back of the chair. He emptied all of the pockets of both dress suit and cape, his hands diving in and out of the clothing. He extracted a few letters and papers from the inside breast pocket, delved into the vest pockets and trouser pockets, heaping his discoveries in two piles

one containing papers and letters, the other coins, keys and miscellaneous material. A silver flask initialed

M. F.

he found in one of the hip pockets. He handled the flask gingerly, holding it by the neck, and scanning the gleaming surface as if for fingerprints. Shaking his head, he wrapped the flask with infinite care in a clean handkerchief, and placed it aside.

A ticket stub colored blue and bearing the inscription

LL32 Left,

he secreted in his own vest pocket.

Without pausing to examine any of the other objects individually, he ran his hands over the lining of the vest and coat, and made a rapid pass over the trouser legs. Then, as he fingered the coattail pocket, he exclaimed in a low tone,

Well, well, Thomas

here

s a pretty find!

as he extracted a woman

s evening bag, small, compact and glittering with rhinestones.

He turned it over in his hands reflectively, then snapped it open, glanced through it and took out a number of feminine accessories. In a small compartment, nestling beside a lipstick, he found a tiny cardcase. After a moment, he replaced all the contents and put the bag in his own pocket.

The Inspector picked up the papers from the floor and swiftly glanced through them. He frowned as he came to the last one

a letterhead.


Ever hear of Monte Field, Thomas?

he asked, looking up.

Velie tightened his lips.

I

ll say I have. One of the crookedest lawyers in town.

The Inspector looked grave.

Well, Thomas, this is Mr. Monte Field

what

s left of him.

Velie grunted.


Where the average police system falls down,

came Ellery

s voice over his father

s shoulder,

is in its ruthless tracking down of gentlemen who dispose of such fungus as Mr. Monte Field.

The Inspector straightened, dusted his knees carefully, took a pinch of snuff, and said,

Ellery, my boy, you

ll never make a policeman. I didn

t know you knew Field.

BOOK: The Roman Hat Mystery
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