The Egyptian Cross Mystery
- Автор: Куин (Квин) Эллери
- Серия: Ellery Queen #5
- Год: 1932
- Язык: английский
- Год: Frederick A. Stokes Company
- Жанр: Классические детективы
Электронная книга - «The Egyptian Cross Mystery». Краткое содержание книги:
“I remember you asked Dr. Rumsen the other day if Brad mightn’t have been strangled. Does he say anything about that?”
“Yes. Lungs show no signs of suffocation. Ergo, he wasn’t strangled.”
“But why did you ask the question in the first place?”
Ellery waved a dripping arm. “Nothing earth-shaking. But since there were no marks of violence on the rest of the body, it might have been important to know exactly how the man was killed. It had to be his head, you see, which bore the brunt of the assault; which suggested strangulation. But Rumsen in this report says that it could only have been a blow with a blunt instrument on the skull, or possibly a revolver shot in the head. I should say the first, all things considered.”
The Professor kicked up a column of water. “I suppose that’s so. Anything else?”
“Investigation to discover the route the murderer took. Futile, very futile.” Ellery shook his head. “Impossible to procure a list of persons who boarded or descended from trains in the neighborhood of the Cove during the crime period. Troopers on the highways, residents near or on the roads, can offer no information. An attempt to find persons who were on or in the vicinity of Ketcham’s Cove on Tuesday evening has been unsuccessful... And yachtsmen and others who sailed the Sound Tuesday afternoon and evening report no mysterious or suspicious activity, no strange boat which might have landed the murderer in the Cove by a water route.”
“As you say, a futile business.” The Professor sighed. “He may have come by train, automobile, or boat, and I suppose we’ll never know exactly. Might even have come by hydroplane, to reduce it to an absurdity.”
“There’s an idea,” smiled Ellery. “And don’t fall into the error of calling improbabilities absurdities, Professor. I’ve seen some queer things happen... Let’s get on with this.” He scanned the next sheet rapidly. “More nothing. The rope used in lashing Brad’s arms and legs to the totem pole...”
“I suppose it’s also futile,” grunted Yardley, “to expect you to say ‘totem post.’”
“Totem post,” continued Ellery dutifully, “has been found to be ordinary cheap-grade clothesline, which can be purchased at any grocer’s or hardware store. No dealer within ten miles of Bradwood can offer anything which promises to be a live trail. However, Isham reports that the quest will be carried on by Vaughn’s men over a wider area.”
“Thorough, these people,” said the Professor.
“Unwilling as I am to admit it,” said Ellery with a grin, “it’s just such routine thoroughness that solves the run of crimes... The knot, Vaughn’s pet idea. Result — zero. A clumsy inexpert thing, but efficient enough, according to Vaughn’s expert. Just such a knot as you or I might tie.”
“Not I,” said Yardley. “I’m an old mariner, you know. Bowlines, half hitches, and what not.”
“You’re as close to H2O now as you’ve ever been — I mean in a nautical capacity... Ah, Paul Romaine. An interesting character. The assertive male with a good healthy streak of practicality in him.”
“Your habit,” said the Professor, “of misusing words is really to be deplored.”
“Background, says Inspector Vaughn’s little piece, obscure. Beyond the fact that he joined our Egyptological avatar in Pittsburgh in February, as he himself said, nothing has been discovered about him. His trail before that is a blank.”
“The Lynns?”
Ellery put down the paper for a moment. “Yes, the Lynns,” he murmured. “What do you know about them?”
The Professor caressed his beard. “Suspicious, my boy? I might have known it wouldn’t escape you. There is something faintly spurious about their ring. Although they’ve been quite respectable. Beyond reproach, as far as I know.”
Ellery picked up the paper. “Well, Scotland Yard, while it doesn’t say so in so many words, thinks otherwise, I’ll warrant. Isham cabled the Yard, and the Yard cabled back, according to this report, that they could find no data on a couple named Percy and Elizabeth Lynn, as described. Their passports have also been investigated, but of course they’re in order, as might be expected. Perhaps we’ve been unkind... Scotland Yard intimates that they are continuing a search of civilian records — criminal records, too — in the hope of unearthing information pertinent to the Lynns’ activities in English territory, since they claim to be English subjects.”
“Lord, what a mess!”
Ellery scowled. “You’re just finding it so? I’ve worked on complicated cases in my brief and brilliant time, but never anything quite so snarled as this... You haven’t heard, of course, the latest developments about friend Fox the chauffeur, and Mrs. Brad.” The Professor’s eyebrows went up. Ellery related what had occurred an hour before in the drawing room at Bradwood. “Clear, isn’t it?”
“As the waters of the Ganges,” grunted Yardley. “I’m beginning to wonder.”
“What?”
The Professor shrugged. “I shan’t leap at conclusions. What else does that encyclopedia in your hand disclose?”
“Fast work on Vaughn’s part. The doorman of the Park Theater testified that a woman of Mrs. Brad’s description left the theater Tuesday night in the middle of the first act — about nine o’clock.”
“Alone?”
“Yes... Another thing. Vaughn’s lines have hooked the original of the money-order application for one hundred dollars which was sent to Ketcham as deposit on the Oyster Island rental. It was made out in the Peoria, Illinois post office in the name of Velja Krosac.”
“No!” The Professor’s eyes grew round. “Then they’ve a sample of his handwriting!”
Ellery sighed. “Leaping at conclusions? I thought you were being careful about that. The name was hand-printed. The address was simply Peoria — evidently Stryker’s traveling manna-dispenser stopped there to do a little business among the natives... One thing more of local interest. Accountants are at work checking the books of Brad & Megara. Natural line of inquiry, of course. But so far everything seems aboveboard; the firm is well-known and extremely prosperous; finances are quite in order... Incidentally, our peregrinating friend Stephen Megara, who’s lolling about somewhere on the high seas, is not active in the business — hasn’t been for five years. Brad kept a supervisory eye cocked, but young Jonah Lincoln runs the place almost single-handed. I wonder what’s sticking in his craw.”
“Future mother-in-law troubles, I should say,” remarked the Professor dryly.
Ellery tossed the sheaf to the marble floor of the selamik, as Yardley called it, and then leaned forward quickly to retrieve it. An additional sheet had fallen from the rear of the sheaf. “What’s this?” He scanned it with omnivorous eyes. “Good lord, here’s something!”
Yardley’s pipe remained suspended in mid-air. “What?”
Ellery was excited. “Actually information about Krosac! A later report, from the date. Evidently District Attorney Crumit held it back in his first reply, and then decided to wash his hands of the entire affair and shunt it onto poor Isham... Six months of investigation. Data galore... Velja Krosac is a Montenegrin!”
“Montenegrin? You mean by birth? For there’s no such country as Montenegro today, you know,” said Yardley with interest. “It became one of the political divisions of present-day Yugoslavia — the Serbs, Croats, and Slovenes merged officially in 1922.”
“Hmm. Crumit’s investigation revealed that Krosac was one of the first emigrants from Montenegro after peace was declared in 1918. His passport on entry into the United States indicated that he was a Montenegrin by birth but nothing else of value. By the sarcophagus of Tut, the man emerges!”