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:
“Positive!” said Kneisel sharply. “Dr. Janney was as zealous in guarding our secret as I have been.”
“One little item occurs to me,” drawled Ellery. “When you were first examined, Kneisel, you said that you originally met Janney through a mutual colleague who was aware of what you were endeavoring to do. It seems to me that you’ve overlooked that possibly loquacious gentleman.”
“Mr. Queen, I have overlooked nothing.” Kneisel actually smiled for an instant. “The man to whom you refer could not be behind these crimes for two excellent reasons: one, he died two years ago; two, despite your statement which is a misstatement of my own of Monday, he knew nothing of the nature of my work, so that he could not have transmitted knowledge of it to any one.”
“Touché,” murmured Ellery.
“What’s all this leading to?” demanded the Inspector. “What’s your conclusion, Dr. Kneisel?”
“My theory embraces even the eventualities. The man behind these murders will be in a position, after my death, to dispose of and cash in on my metal alloy by dealing with innocent metal interests. That is where the trail will lead, Inspector. So if I should die suddenly—”
Sampson drummed on the arm of his chair. “Disturbing, all right. But there isn’t a particle of evidence, of tangibility.”
Kneisel smiled frigidly. “I beg your pardon, sir. I hesitate to assume the air of a sleuth — but can you or Inspector Queen or Mr. Ellery Queen offer a better motive for the apparently unrelated murders of Mrs. Doorn and Dr. Janney? Can you offer any motive at all?”
“Beside the point!” snapped the Inspector. “You’re assuming that there’s going to be another funeral, at which you’ll be the main attraction. Well, suppose you’re disappointed, and the murders of the Dutch Memorial Hospital are now at an end? Where’s your theory then?”
“I should grant the error of a mere theory to preserve my scientific skin, Inspector — gladly. If I am not killed, I’m wrong. If I am killed, I’m right — doubtful satisfaction either way. But right or wrong, I am entitled to play — as you say — safe. Inspector, I demand protection!”
“Oh, you’ll get that, all right. Twice as much as you’ve bargained for. We don’t want anything happening to you, Dr. Kneisel.”
“I suppose you realize,” put in Ellery, “that, even if your theory is correct, Mrs. Doorn may have whispered the secret to more than one person? Is that right?”
“Well... yes. Why? What do you mean?”
“I’m simply being logical, Doctor.” Ellery folded his hands peacefully behind his head. “If more than one person have been told, it stands to reason that your mysterious Mr. X, party of the fourth part, is aware of the fact. Then you aren’t the only character in our melodrama who needs protection. There are others, Dr. Kneisel. I trust you see my point?”
Kneisel bit his lip. “Yes. Yes! There will be other murders, too...”
Ellery laughed. “I scarcely think so. However, let it pass. One moment more, before you leave. I’m in a questioning mood... Doornite is not yet perfected, you said?”
“Not completely.”
“How near completion is it?”
“A matter of weeks — no more. I am safe for that length of time, in any event.”
“I’m not so sure of that,” said Ellery dryly.
Kneisel turned slowly in his chair. “What do you mean?”
“Simply this: your experiments are virtually finished. What is to prevent this fictive schemer of yours from killing you now and completing the work himself? Or having it completed for him by a competent metallurgist?”
The scientist looked startled. “True. Very true. It could be finished by some one else. That means — that means I’m not safe — no, not even now.”
“Unless,” said Ellery amiably, “you destroy at once every vestige of your researches.”
Kneisel’s voice was strained. “A poor consolation. Either way. My life or my work.”
“The well-known horns, eh?” murmured Ellery.
Kneisel sat up stiffly. “I may be killed to-day, to-night—”
The Inspector stirred. “I don’t think it’s as bad as all that, Dr. Kneisel. And you’ll be well taken care of. Excuse me.” The old man manipulated his inter-office communicator. “Ritter! You’ve got a new assignment. You’re to take care of Dr. Moritz Kneisel from the moment he steps out of my office... Now. Stay with him, Ritter, and get a good relief for the night... No, this isn’t a tail — you’re a bodyguard from now on. Okay.” He turned back to the scientist “It’s all fixed.”
“Considerate of you, Inspector. I shall be going.” Kneisel fumbled with his hat-brim. He rose suddenly and, without glancing at Ellery, said in a rapid way, “Good-day. Goodbye, gentlemen.” He slipped out of the room.
“The spalpeen!” The Inspector was on his feet now, his white face brightly colored. “That was slick! God, he’s got his nerve!”
“What do you mean, Q.?” asked Sampson.
“It’s as plain as day,” cried the old man. “This theory of his is pure hogwash. It’s a blind, Henry! Didn’t it occur to you as he was speaking that he’s the man left with a clear field, that he’s the biggest gainer by the death of Abby Doorn and Janney, that he’s figuratively the ‘fourth party’ of his theory? In other words that there is no fourth party?”
“By thunder, Q., I think you’ve hit it!”
The old man turned to Ellery in triumph. “All this pretty talk about X wiping out Abby, Janney, and himself... Why, it’s nonsensical! Don’t you think I’m on the right track, son?”
Ellery did not speak for a moment; his eyes were haggard. “I haven’t a morsel of concrete evidence,” he said at last “to bolster my belief — but I think both you and Kneisel are wrong, I don’t think Kneisel did the jobs, nor this fourth and purely hypothetical person Kneisel talked about... Dad, if we ever hit bottom in this investigation, which I seriously doubt, we’ll find that it’s a much more subtle crime than even Kneisel postulates — and much more impossible, to be thoroughly unrhetorical.”
The Inspector scratched his head. “How you can blow hot and cold in the same breath, son! Now, I suppose you’ll tell me, after saying Kneisel doesn’t figure, to keep my eye on him as if he were the most important suspect in the case. That would be just like you.”
“Amazingly enough, that is precisely what I was going to say.” Ellery lit another cigarette. “And don’t misinterpret my statement. You did just now, you know... Kneisel must be guarded as if he were the Maharajah of Punjab. I want a detailed report of the identity, conversation and subsequent movements of every soul who comes within ten feet of him!”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Reexamination
So Wednesday passed, and with every crawling hour the mystery of New York’s most sensational murder case retreated farther and farther into the shadowy region of unsolved crimes.
The investigation of Dr. Francis Janney’s death, as of the death of Abigail Doorn, had reached its critical stage. It was generally agreed throughout the offices of the law that if a beginning were not made within forty-eight hours toward clearing up the crimes they might be considered beyond the pale of solution.
On Thursday morning Inspector Queen awoke after an uneasy night in a blank, clammish mood. His cough had recurred and his eyes burned with the unhealthy glitter of fever. But he brushed aside the protests of Djuna and Ellery and, shivering in his greatcoat despite the mild winter air, plodded down 87th Street toward the Broadway subway and Headquarters.
Ellery sat at the window and blindly watched him go.