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:
“In New York, Inspector. Looking for a job. I answered Brad’s ad and he took me on the day after New Year’s.”
“Check.” The Inspector sighed. “Well, Fox, for your sake I hope it’s as you say. Under the circumstances my hands are tied. You’ll have to stick around. No guards, no pinch, you understand. But you’ll be under observation, and I don’t want you to try a lam.”
“I won’t, Inspector!” cried Fox. New hope had leaped into his face.
“Keep going as if nothing’d happened. If you’re in the clear I won’t discuss this thing with Mrs. Brad or disclose your record to her.”
Before this generosity Fox stood speechless. The Inspector beckoned his man and left the hut.
Fox followed slowly. He stood in the doorway and watched the Inspector and the two detectives stride down the path into the woods. His chest rose, and he breathed deeply of the warm air.
Vaughn found Helene Brad on the porch of the big house.
“Torturing poor Fox again,” she sniffed.
“Fox is all right,” said the Inspector shortly; his face showed the fatigue and helplessness he felt. “Find Temple?”
“Dr. Temple was out. He took a sail somewhere in his motorboat. I left a note for him to see Stephen the moment he got back.”
“Out, eh?”
Vaughn glanced in the general direction of Oyster Island and nodded wearily.
19. T
At 9:15 Sunday morning Inspector Vaughn, who had slept overnight at Bradwood, was summoned by Stallings to the telephone. He seemed to be expecting the call, for he looked blank at once and said in an audible mutter: “Wonder who that is.” Whether Stallings was deceived or not, he learned little enough from the Inspector’s monosyllabic replies to the early caller. “Hmm... Yes... No. All right.” The Inspector hung up and, eyes glittering, hurried out of the house.
At 9:45 District Attorney Isham made a grand entrance into Bradwood, driving up in an official county car with three county troopers. They all descended before the colonial house and Inspector Vaughn leaped forward, grasped Isham’s hands, and began earnestly to converse with him in an undertone.
Under cover of this diversion Ellery slipped his Duesenberg into the grounds of Yardley’s estate a few moments later.
No one apparently noticed that one of the three troopers who had accompanied the District Attorney did not possess the easy military bearing characteristic of his companions. He joined a larger group of troopers, who thereupon dispersed and walked off in various directions.
Professor Yardley, in slacks and sweater, smoking the inevitable pipe, greeted Ellery with a welcoming cry in the selamik of the house.
“Here’s our chief guest!” he shouted. “I thought you weren’t coming back, my boy!”
“As long as you’re in the quotative mood,” smiled Ellery, stripping off his coat and flinging himself on the tessellated marble, “you might consider the fact that hospes nullus tam in amici hospitium diverti potest... odiosus siet.”
“Why butcher Plautus? You haven’t been here three days anyway.” The Professor’s eyes were bright. “Well?”
“Well,” said Ellery, “he’s with us.”
“No!” Yardley became thoughtful. “In uniform? Good as a play, by heaven.”
“We rearranged the details in Mineola this morning. Isham got hold of a couple of troopers and an official car, telephoned Vaughn, and set out for Bradwood.” Ellery sighed; there were huge circles under his eyes. “That trip! Van was about as communicative as a clam. I’m tired! But there’s no rest for the weary. Would you care to witness the great unveiling?”
The Professor scrambled to his feet. “Decidedly! I’ve been a martyr long enough. Had breakfast?”
“We stuffed our bellies in Mineola. Come along.”
They left the house and sauntered across the road to Bradwood, Vaughn was still talking to Isham when they reached the porch. “Just telling the D.A.,” said Vaughn, as if Ellery had never been away, “the line we got on Fox.”
“Fox?”
The Inspector repeated what he had learned about the man’s history.
Ellery shrugged. “Poor devil... Where’s Megara?”
“On the yacht.” Vaughn lowered his voice. “He’s gone down to the landing... Megara had some bad pains in his groin yesterday. Miss Brad tried to get Temple, but he was out all day. I think Temple’s gone over to the Helene this morning.”
“Anything evolved from that pretty plot yesterday?”
“Nothing. Decoy didn’t pull a real live duck out of the sky. Come on, let’s go before these people start getting up. They’re all asleep yet — nobody’s been about.”
They proceeded around the house and took the path to the Cove. On the dock stood three troopers, and the police launch waited to cast off.
No one paid the least attention to the third trooper. Isham, Vaughn, Yardley, and Ellery scrambled into the launch, and the three troopers followed. The boat sputtered off toward the yacht a half-mile away.
The same procedure was observed in boarding the Helene. The four men scaled the ladder, and then the troopers followed. The members of the Helene’s crew who stood about the deck in immaculate whites had eyes only for Inspector Vaughn, who was striding along as if he meant to arrest somebody.
Captain Swift opened the door of his cabin as they passed. “How long—?” he began.
Vaughn tramped along, a deaf man, and the others meekly tramped along, too. The Captain stared after them, his jaw swelling; then he cursed with effortless fluency and retreated into his cabin, slamming the door.
The Inspector knocked on the panels of the main cabin. The door swung inward, and Dr. Temple’s taut, blackish face appeared.
“Hullo!” he said. “Out in force, eh? I’ve just been having a look at Mr. Megara.”
“May we come in?” asked Isham.
“Come in!” said Megara in a tight voice from the interior of the cabin. They filed in, silently. Stephen Megara lay on a simple bed, naked where a sheet did not cover him. The yachtsman’s face was pale and strained; there were beads of sweat on the edge of his eyebrows. He was doubled up, clutching his groin. He did not look at the troopers; his eyes were fixed on Temple with agony.
“What’s the trouble, Doctor?” asked Ellery soberly.
“Hernia testis,” said Dr. Temple. “A good case of it. It’s not anything to worry about immediately. I’ve given him temporary relief; he’ll feel the effect of it in a moment.”
“Got it on this last trip,” panted Megara. “All right, Doctor; all right. Leave us, please. These gentlemen want to discuss something with me.”
Temple stared; then he shrugged and picked up his medical bag. “As you say... Don’t neglect that, Mr. Megara. I suggest surgery, although it isn’t absolutely necessary right now.”
He bowed with military stiffness to the others and quickly left the cabin. The Inspector followed him out. He did not return until Dr. Temple was in his own motorboat headed for the mainland.
Vaughn closed the cabin door tightly. On deck two troopers set their backs against it.
The third trooper took a step forward, and licked his lips. The man in the bed plucked at the sheet.
They looked at each other, silently; they did not shake hands.
“Stefan,” said the schoolmaster.
“Andreja.” Ellery felt the alarming impulse to giggle; there was something ludicrous in the situation, tragic as its overtones were. These two straight, clean-cut men with the foreign names — the yacht, the bed of pain, the drab uniform... There had never been anything quite like it in all his experience.