The Dutch Shoe Mystery

“What do you think I ought to do, Djuna? And in telling me I want you to advise me to the best of your ability.” Ellery did not smile.

Djuna did not answer at once; his mouth hardened and he gave himself over to deep thought. And after a long and pregnant silence, he said distinctly, “Eggs.”

“What?” demanded Ellery in astonishment.

Djuna seemed pleased with himself. “I’m talkin’ about eggs. ‘Smornin’ I was boilin’ eggs for Dad Queen. I’m careful about Dad Queen’s eggs — he’s finicky. I let ’em boil too hard. So I threw ’em out an’ — I started all over again. Second time they were just right.” He stared at Ellery meaningly.

Ellery chuckled. “Environment’s a bad influence in your case, I see. You’ve robbed me of my allegorical method... Djuna, that’s a rich and fruity thought — an excellent thought, forsooth!” He rumpled the boy’s black hair. “Start all over again, eh?” He sprang from the chair. “By all your romani gods, son, that’s sound advice!”

He disappeared into the bedroom with new energy. Djuna began to clear away the breakfast dishes, not without shaking fingers.

“John, I’m going to follow young Djuna’s rede and retrace the ground of both crimes.”

They were seated in Dr. Minchen’s office at the Hospital.

“Do you need me?” The physician’s eyes were lusterless and underscored with purple welts; he breathed heavily.

“If you can spare the time...”

“I suppose so.”

They left Minchen’s chamber.

The Hospital this morning had resumed something of its routine air; bans had been lifted and with the exception of a few verboten areas on the main floor the business of life and death proceeded as if nothing out of the way had ever happened. Detectives and uniformed men still prowled about, but they kept out of the way and did not interfere with the activity of the doctors and nurses.

Ellery and Minchen made their way down the East Corridor and turned the corner into the South Corridor, going west. At the door of the Anæsthesia Room, sitting comfortably on a commandeered rocking-chair out of a convalescent ward, sat a dozing bluecoat. The door itself was closed.

He snapped to his feet in a flash as Ellery tried the handle of the door. And until Ellery wearily exhibited a special pass signed by Inspector Queen the policeman stoutly refused to allow the two men to enter the Anæsthesia Room.

The Anæsthesia Room was exactly as they had left it three days before.

At the door leading into the Anteroom sat another policeman. Again the pass brought electric response. He gawped, grinned feebly and mumbled “Yes’r.” They passed inside.

Wheel-table, chairs, supply-cabinet, door to the elevator... Nothing had changed.

Ellery said, “Nobody’s been allowed in here, I see.”

“We wanted to take out some supplies,” muttered Minchen, “but your father left strict orders. We haven’t been permitted past the outer door.”

Ellery looked gloomily about. He tossed his head. “I suppose you think I’m daft for coming back here, John. As a matter of fact, now that the first flush of Djuna’s inspiration has faded, I feel a little foolish myself. There can’t be anything new here.”

Minchen did not reply.

They looked into the operating theater and then returned to the Anteroom. Ellery crossed to the door of the lift and opened it. The elevator stood there, barren. He stepped into the elevator and tried the handle of the door on the opposite side. It would not budge.

“Taped on the other side,” he murmured. “That’s right — it’s the one that leads into the East Corridor.”

He stepped back into the Anteroom and looked about. Near the elevator was the door leading to the tiny Sterilizing Room. He peered inside. Everything appeared as it had been left on Monday.

“Oh, it’s puerile!” cried Ellery. “Let’s get out of this appalling place, John.”

They left through the Anæsthesia Room and headed down the South Corridor toward the main entrance. “Here!” said Ellery suddenly. “Might as well make a complete fiasco of this ghastly business. Let’s peep into Janney’s office.”

The bluecoat at the door blundered out of me way.

Inside the office Ellery sat down in the dead man’s swivel-chair behind the large desk and motioned Minchen into one of the chairs on the west wall. They sat in silence as Ellery cynically examined the bare room through the smoke of his cigarette.

He spoke in a calm drawl. “John, I have a confession to make. It would seem that something has happened which for years I have maintained lies in the realm of the impossible. And that is — the commission of the insoluble crime.”

“You mean there’s no hope?”

“Hope is the pillar of the world, as the Woloffs of Africa say.” Ellery flicked his cigarette and smiled. “My pillar is crashing. A terrific blow to my pride, John... I shouldn’t mind it so much if I felt sincerely that I’d met my master — a criminal mind which has concocted a pair of crimes so clever in their execution as to be impossible of solution. I’d admire that quite properly.