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:
“Why, yes. But what was wrong in that? I can’t see that those files had anything to do—”
“Wrong?” cried Ellery. “You’ve unwittingly retarded the solution of the case by a full twenty-four hours! You can’t see that the filing-cabinet had anything to do with the crimes? Why, John, it’s the crux — the crux! Without realizing it, young Sherlock, you nearly wrote ‘finis’ to my dad’s career and my own peace of mind...”
Minchen was gaping. “But—”
“But me no buts, sir. And don’t take it to heart. The main thing is that I’ve discovered the key-clew.” Ellery paused in his mad gyrations about the room and regarded Minchen with quizzical brows. He flipped his hand toward the right. “I told you there was a window in that corner, John...”
Minchen stupidly followed the line of Ellery’s accusing finger.
He saw nothing but the blank wall behind Dr. Janney’s desk.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Simplification
“Get me a map of the main floor, John.”
Dr. Minchen found himself being carried away by the explosive blast of Ellery’s newborn enthusiasm. From a man harassed by sterile speculations, morose, moody, Ellery had become a man transformed — vital, electric, crisp...
Superintendent Paradise himself brought the blueprint plan to the dead surgeon’s office. On being pointedly excused, he smiled a sickly smile and backed out of the room, as if Ellery had been royalty.
Ellery paid no attention. Already he had unrolled the map and spread it over the desk; he was tracing with his finger some labyrinthine route which for Dr. Minchen, watching over his companion’s shoulder, held nothing but mystery. The physician marveled inwardly at the exclusive concentration of the tall young man. Ellery pored over the blueprint quite as if the world of reality had ceased to exist except in the delineated mazes of the map.
And after long moments, while Dr. Minchen waited patiently, Ellery straightened up not without an expression of peculiar satisfaction, and removed his pince-nez.
The blueprint rolled together with a little swirling noise.
Ellery began thoughtfully to stride up and down, tapping his lower lip with the pince-nez. He lit a cigarette and his head disappeared in a billow of smoke. “One visit more — one visit more.” The words crept out of the cloud. “Ho, John!”
Ellery clapped the physician resoundingly on a shoulder. “If it’s possible... If the force of habit—” He stopped and burst into a little chuckle. “If the gods are with us, Jonathan! One morsel of evidence, one tiny scrap... En avant!”
He ran out of the office and into the South Corridor, Minchen padding behind. Ellery halted before the door of the Anæsthesia Room and whirled.
“Quick! Let’s have the key to the supply cabinet in the Anteroom!” His fingers were impatient.
Minchen produced a bunch of keys. Ellery snatched a proffered key from the physician’s hand and hurried into the Anæsthesia Room.
On his way across the room he hastily took a small notebook from his breast pocket and riffled the pages until he found one on which appeared a crude and unrecognizable pencil-drawing. It bore a geometric shape in outline, peculiarly jagged on one edge. This he studied earnestly for a moment, and then he smiled; whereupon without a word he stuffed the notebook back into his pocket, brushed past the policeman at the door, and entered the Anteroom. Minchen followed, wondering.
Ellery made straight for the white supply cabinet He unlocked the glass door with Minchen’s key and stood, eyes agleam, scanning the array of narrow drawers before him. Each drawer had a labeled description of its contents in a central metal pocket.
He ran his eye swiftly over the labels. Toward the bottom of the cabinet he read one at which he visibly brightened. He pulled the drawer open and bent over to examine each separate article within. Several times he took something out of the drawer and eyed it closely, but he seemed dissatisfied until he had reached into the shallow receptacle for the fourth time. Then, with a soft exclamation, he retreated from the cabinet, reached into his pocket for the notebook, turned again to the page which bore the strange pencil-drawing, and carefully compared with it the article from the drawer.
He smiled, tucked the notebook back into his pocket, and restored his find to the cabinet. He seemed to think better of this, however, for he again withdrew the article, this time meticulously placing it in a glassine envelope which he put away in his coat.
“I suppose,” ventured Dr. Minchen in an exasperated voice, “you’ve found something important. But it’s just so much mumbo-jumbo to me. Why the deuce are you grinning so?”
“It’s not a discovery, John — it’s a corroboration,” replied Ellery soberly. He sat down in one of the Anteroom chairs and swung his legs like a boy. “This is one of the most peculiar cases I’ve ever encountered.
“Here’s a piece of evidence strong enough, I think, to confirm a complicated hypothesis, and yet even if I’d thought of looking for it before this, it wouldn’t have done me much good.
“Imagine. It was under my nose all the time, and yet I had to solve the crime first before I could suspect the whereabouts of this precious evidence!”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Equation
Early Thursday afternoon Ellery Queen might have been observed climbing the steps of the brownstone house on 87th Street, bearing under one arm a bulky package and under the other a long, thin roll of paper. There was a wide smile on his face.
When Djuna heard the rattle of Ellery’s key in the lock, he dashed for the apartment door. Flinging it open, he surprised Ellery in the act of thrusting the bulky package behind his back.
“Mr. Ellery! Back so soon? Why’n’t you ring?”
“I... ah—” Ellery grinned and leaned against the jamb. “Djuna, tell me... What do you want to be when you grow up?”
Djuna stared. “When I grow up?... I wanna be a detective!”
“Know anything about disguising yourself?” asked Ellery in a sharp tone.
The boy’s lips fell apart. “No. No, sir. But I c’n learn!”
“That’s what I thought,” Said Ellery, bringing his concealed hand into the light. He thrust the package into the boy’s arms. “Here’s a little something to start practicing with.”
And he strode with dignity into the Queen apartment, leaving behind him a Djuna speechless with stupefaction.
Not two minutes later Djuna came flying into the living-room. “Mr. Ellery!” he cried. “F’r me?”
He deposited the package reverently on the table. He had torn off the paper wrapping; within it was a metal box, its lid raised, displaying a gaudy and most mysterious collection of hair-tufts, chalks, paint-sticks, wigs and numerous other articles of a similar nature.
“For you, young limb.” Ellery flung his coat and hat in a corner, leaned over the boy. “For you, Djuna, and it’s because you’re just about the best detective in the Queen family.”
Djuna’s face was a canvas of riotous colors.
“If it hadn’t been for you,” continued Ellery oracularly, pinching the boy’s cheek, “and your uncanny suggestion this morning, there would be no solution to the Doorn and Janney cases.”
Djuna found his tongue instantly. “Y’ got’m?”
“Not yet, but I promise you it won’t be long. — Now get out of here with your disguises, and let me think. There’s a heap of it before me.”
Djuna, trained to the vagaries of the Queen temperaments, disappeared into the kitchen like Aladdin’s genie.