The Egyptian Cross Mystery

“Professor darling,” said Ellery, “don’t anticipate. This is my recitation. You’re swell on ancient history, but my forte is logic and I yield the palm to no man in my own province. Ha, ha! Well, let it go.”

He dropped his grin. “Krosac wanted not permanent concealment of the scene of the crime, but delay of its discovery. Why? Three possible reasons. Follow closely — Mr. Megara especially; you may be able to help us here.”

Megara nodded and dropped on the divan, which had been restored to its proper position before the wall.

“One: There was something in this room dangerous to Krosac which he wanted to take away later, since for some peculiar reason he could not take it away on the night of the murder... Two: There was something Krosac wanted to add or bring back to this room later, which he could not add or bring back on the night of the murder—”

“Hold your horses a minute,” said the District Attorney, who for a moment had been fiercely frowning. “Both of those sound reasonable, for in either case making the summerhouse seem the scene of the crime would draw attention away from the library, perhaps leaving it during that period accessible to the murderer.”

“Contradiction in order. Wrong, Mr. Isham,” drawled Ellery. “Krosac had to expect, even if the stain were missed in the first search — as he planned — and the summerhouse accepted as the scene of the crime... Krosac had to expect, I repeat, that the house would be guarded and that he would be prevented by purely precautionary police measures from taking something away later or bringing something back later. But there’s an even more important objection to the first two possibilities, gentlemen.

“If Krosac wanted to come back here and therefore deliberately made the summerhouse appear the scene of the crime, it would certainly be to his advantage to make the summerhouse appear the scene of the crime permanently. This would give him unlimited time and opportunity in which to gain access to the library. But he didn’t — he deliberately left a trail back to this room which, if the surmise I’ve just mentioned were correct, would be about the last thing he’d do. So I say, neither of the first two theories is tenable.”

“Over my head,” said Vaughn disgustedly. “Too fancy for me.

“Shut up like a good fellow,” snapped Isham. “This isn’t slap-me-down police methods, Vaughn. I’ll admit it’s an unorthodox way to go about solving a crime, but it sounds like the real stuff. Go on, Mr. Queen. We’re all ears.”

“Inspector, consider yourself publicly reprimanded,” said Ellery severely. “Third possibility: That there is something now in the library which was also there the night of the murder, which — a plethora of whiches — is not dangerous to the criminal, which he didn’t plan to take away later, which he wanted the police to discover, but which he did not want discovered by the police until Mr. Megara’s return.”

“Phew,” said Vaughn, throwing up his hands. “Let me out of here.”

“Don’t mind him, Mr. Queen,” said Isham.

Megara squinted steadily at Ellery. “Go ahead, Mr. Queen.”

“Since we are obliging souls,” continued Ellery, “obviously we must look for and find what Krosac planned us to find only when you, Mr. Megara, were on the scene... You know,” he added contemplatively, “I’ve always found — and I think you’ll bear me out, inspector — that the more involved a murderer becomes the more errors he’s apt to make. Suppose we get friend Stallings in here for a moment.”

The detective at the door yelled “Stallings!” and the butler appeared in dignified haste.

“Stallings,” said Ellery abruptly, “you know this room pretty well, don’t you?”

Stallings coughed. “If I do say so, sir, as well as Mr. Brad himself knew it.”

“I’m ravished to hear it. Take a look about.” Stallings dutifully took a look about. “Is everything in order? Has anything been added? Is there anything here which shouldn’t be here?”

Stallings smiled briefly and began a stately stalk about the library. He poked in corners, opened drawers, investigated the interior of the secretary... It took him ten minutes, but when he concluded his tour of inspection and said: “This room is exactly as I saw it last, sir — I mean before Mr. Brad was killed... except, sir, that the table is gone,” they all felt that there was nothing more to ask.

But Ellery was persistent. “Nothing else has been disturbed or taken away?”

The butler shook his head emphatically. “No, sir. The only thing that’s really different is that stain, sir,” he said, pointing to the rug. “It wasn’t there Tuesday evening when I left the house. And the checker table...”

“What about the checker table?” asked Ellery sharply.