The Dutch Shoe Mystery
- Автор: Куин (Квин) Эллери
- Серия: Ellery Queen #3
- Год: 1931
- Язык: английский
- Год: Frederick A. Stokes
- Жанр: Классические детективы
Электронная книга - «The Dutch Shoe Mystery». Краткое содержание книги:
“Be quiet, Pete,” said Sampson. “Hello, Q. What’s doing? I don’t mind telling you we’re in one hell of a mess.” He sat down and threw his hat on the wheel-table, looking about the room curiously. The red-haired man pumped hands with Ellery and the Inspector. The newspaperman slouched to a chair and sank into it with a sigh of satisfaction.
“It’s complicated, Henry,” said the Inspector quietly. “No light yet. Mrs. Doorn was strangled while she was unconscious and waiting to be operated on; somebody seems to have impersonated the operating surgeon; nobody can identify the impostor; and we’re generally up a tree. It’s been a bad morning.”
“You won’t be able to cover up this case, Q.,” said the District Attorney with a harassed frown. “Whoever did the job picked on just about the most prominent figure in New York City. The newspaper boys are howling their heads off outside — we’ve got half the local precinct keeping ’em off the premises — Pete Harper here being the privileged character, God help me! — and I received a call from the Governor a half-hour ago. You can imagine what he said. It’s big, Q., big! What’s behind it — personal revenge, a maniac, money?”
“I wish I knew... Look here, Henry,” sighed the Inspector, “we’ll have to make an official statement to the press, and, by cripes, there’s nothing to say. You, Pete,” he went on grimly, turning to the white-haired man, “you’re here by sufferance. One breach of faith on your part and I’ll have your hide. Don’t print anything the other boys don’t get. Otherwise you can’t sit in. Understand?”
“I’m ’way ahead of you, Inspector,” grinned the reporter.
“And Henry. Here’s the situation up to the present.” He rapidly recounted the events, discoveries and perplexities of the morning to the District Attorney, in an undertone. When the Inspector had concluded his recital he called for pen and paper, and in a short time, with the aid of the District Attorney, had drafted a statement for the reporters milling about outside the Hospital. A nurse was conscripted to make typewritten copies, which Sampson signed; whereupon Velie sent a man to distribute them.
Inspector Queen went to the door of the Amphitheater and bawled a name. Almost immediately the tall, angular figure of Dr. Lucius Dunning crossed the threshold. The physician was flushed; his eyes smoldered; the seams on his face writhed.
“So you’ve decided to call me at last!” he rasped. His grey head jerked from side to side as he challenged them all, impartially, with stabbing glances. “I suppose you think I’ve nothing better to do than to sit outside like an old woman or a twenty-year-old boy and await your pleasure! Well, let me tell you once for all, sir—” he stalked up to the Inspector and brandished this thin fist above the old man’s head, “this outrage is going to mean something to you!”
“Now, really, Dr. Dunning,” said the Inspector meekly, as he slipped under the physician’s uplifted arm and shut the door.
“Restrain yourself, Dr. Dunning!” interrupted District Attorney Sampson in his sharpest courtroom manner. “The investigation is in the most capable hands in New York. If you’ve nothing to conceal, you’ve nothing to fear. And,” he added with asperity, “any complaints you may have should be addressed to me. I’m the District Attorney of this County!”
Dunning jammed his hands into his white coat-pockets. “I don’t care a hoot if you’re the President of the United States,” he snarled. “You’re keeping me from my work. There’s a bad case of gastric ulcer that I must follow up immediately. Your men outside prevented me five times from leaving the theater. Why, it’s criminal! I’ve got to see that patient!”
“Sit down, Doctor,” said Ellery with a soothing smile. “The longer you protest, the longer you’ll be here. Just a few questions, and the gastric ulcer is yours...”
Dunning glared about like an angry tomcat, struggled with his tongue for a long moment, and finally snapped his lips shut and flung his lean length into a chair.
“You can question me from to-day until to-morrow,” he said defiantly, folding his arms across his bony chest, “but you’ll merely be wasting your time. I know nothing. You’ll get nothing from me that can possibly help you.”
“Surely that’s a matter of opinion, Doctor?”
“Oh, come, come!” interrupted the Inspector. “Less of this bickering. Let’s hear your little story, Doctor. I want a strict account of your movements this morning.”
“Is that all?” muttered Dunning bitterly. His tongue flicked out over his nervous lips. “I arrived at the Hospital at 9:00, and saw patients in my office until about 10:00. From 10:00 until the time of the operation I remained in my office checking over case-records. There were some histories and prescriptions. A few moments before 10:45 I went across the North Corridor to the rear of the Amphitheater, mounted to the gallery, met my daughter there, and—”
“That’s quite enough. Any visitors after 10:00?”
“No.” Dunning paused. “That is, no one but Miss Fuller — Mrs. Doorn’s companion. She stopped in for a few moments to inquire about Mrs. Doorn’s condition.”
“How well,” asked Ellery, bending forward in his chair and clasping his hands between his knees, “did you know Mrs. Doorn, Doctor?”
“Not — intimately,” replied Dunning. “Of course, I’ve been on the staff here ever since the founding of the Hospital, and I naturally came to know Mrs. Doorn in my official capacity. I’m on the Board of Directors along with Dr. Janney, Dr. Minchen and the others...”
District Attorney Sampson leveled his forefinger at the physician. “Let’s be frank with each other,” he said. “You know Mrs. Doorn’s position as a world figure, I might say, and you know what a furor will be raised when the world learns that she has been murdered. For one thing, the reverberations will certainly be heard in the stock market. The sooner this case is solved and forgotten, the better off everybody will be... Just what do you think about the entire affair?”
Dr. Dunning got slowly to his feet, began to walk up and down, up and down. As he walked he cracked his knuckles. Ellery winced, crouched in his chair.
“You were about to say...” he murmured in almost unpleasant accents.
“What?” Dunning appeared confused. “No, no. I know nothing at all. It’s a complete mystery to me...”
“Amazing, how all-pervasive this mystery seems to be,” snapped Ellery. He eyed Dunning with a species of curious disgust. “That’s quite all, Doctor.”
Dunning strode out of the room without another word.
Ellery sprang to his feet and began to prowl. “By the Minotaur!” he cried. “All this is leading us nowhere. Who else is waiting outside? Kneisel, Sarah Fuller? Let’s get this over with. There’s work to be done...”
Pete Harper stretched his legs luxuriously and chuckled. “Headline,” he said. “‘Noted Sleuth Gets Cramp in Belly; Bad Circulation Affects Temper...’”
“Hey, you,” growled Velie, “shut up.”
Ellery smiled. “You’re right, Pete. It’s got me... Shoot, Dad. Out with the next victim!”
But the next victim was destined to bide his time in continued patience. For from the West Corridor came the broken sounds of a violent altercation, and the door crashed open to admit Lieutenant Ritchie and a trio of odd-looking men being prodded forward by three bluecoats.
“What’s this?” demanded the Inspector, starting up. “Well, well, well,” he said equably, his wand straying to his snuffbox. “If it isn’t Joe Gecko, Little Willie and Snapper! Ritchie, where in time did you pick ’em up?”