The Dutch Shoe Mystery

“That’s right, Mr. Queen.”

“Do you recall seeing this cabinet?”

The giant rumbled reproachfully, “Sure do. It’s my business, Mr. Queen. Even tried to open the drawers, thinkin’ the address-book might be in the cabinet. But it was locked. I didn’t mention it, anyway, because these drawers were marked with cards — they’re there now, I see — tellin’ what’s in each one. Didn’t look likely that book was there.”

“Very naturally.” Ellery lit a cigarette with flying fingers. “And was the cabinet in exactly the position it’s in now?”

“Yep.”

“Were the corners of the desk as close to the wall as they are now?”

“That’s the ticket, Mr. Queen. I remember the corners were so near the wall over on that side that I could only get behind the desk on the side nearer the window. Even then it was a tight squeeze.”

“Excellent! That checks. I might say, Velie,” said Ellery with an unoffending grin, “that by omitting to mention the existence and position of the cabinet you missed your great opportunity for undying fame. Of course, you couldn’t have known... Ah, come in, John. Come in, Miss Price.”

Dr. Minchen stepped aside to allow the trimly uniformed Lucille Price to enter. When they had both stepped over the threshold Ellery crossed the room quickly and closed the door.

“Nous commençons,” he said in a cheerful voice. He returned to the center of the room, rubbing his hands. “Miss Price, I want you to sit at your desk and take more notes for us. That’s right” The nurse sat down and, unlocking the top drawer of her small desk, extracted a notebook and a pencil; she waited quietly.

Ellery waved at his father. “Dad, I’d be obliged if you will sit in Dr. Janney’s swivel-chair.” The Inspector obeyed with a faint smile. Ellery clapped the big sergeant’s back with vigor, motioning him to take his stand by the door. “Sampson, you might sit — here.” Ellery pulled a chair forward from the west wall and the District Attorney seated himself without a word. “Djuna, old son.” The boy was breathing hard with excitement. “You’re naturally in on this. You stand over by the bookcase, where you’ll be close to Sergeant Velie’s huge and protective wings.” Djuna scuttled across the room and stood in precisely the spot indicated, as if by standing one inch farther to the right he would have completely upset Ellery’s plans. “John. You might sit down beside District Attorney Sampson.” The physician obeyed. “And now we’re ready. The stage is set. Old spider’s waiting with figuratively dripping jaws, and if I’m not mistaken we’ll have the unsuspecting fly quicker than quick!”

Ellery dragged the large chair on the east wall to a commanding position in the office, sat down, adjusted his pince-nez with annoying deliberation, slumped in the chair and with a sigh stretched his legs.

“Ready, Miss Price?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Very well. Take a memorandum to the Police Commissioner of the City of New York. Address it ‘Dear Commissioner.’ Got that?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Sub-head. ‘From Inspector Richard Queen re’ — indicate italicization by underlining that, Miss Price — ‘re Murder of Mrs. Abigail Doorn and Dr. Francis Janney.’ Message. ‘I have the extreme honor and pleasure to report—’”

At this moment, when the only sounds in the room were the slow even words of Ellery, the scratch of the nurse’s pencil and the heavy breathing of Ellery’s audience, there came a sharp rap on the door.

Ellery’s head jerked toward Velie. “See who it is.”

The sergeant opened the door a few inches and growled, “Well?”

A male voice said uncertainly, “Is Dr. Minchen in there? Dr. Dunning wants to see him in his office.”

Velie looked at Ellery with a question in his eyes. Ellery turned to Dr. Minchen and asked mockingly, “Would you like to leave, John? Dunning evidently needs you badly.”

The physician gripped the arms of his chair, half rose. “Well — do you think I ought to—?”

“Suit yourself. I think there will be a most diverting entertainment enacted here in a moment or so which you shouldn’t miss...”

Minchen muttered, “Tell him I’m busy.” He sank back.

Velie shut the door in the man’s face.

“Who was it, Velie?” inquired Ellery.

“This guy Cobb, the doorman.”

“Oh!” Ellery leaned back again. “To proceed, Miss Price, from the point where we were so rudely interrupted. What did I dictate?”

The girl read in a clear rapid voice, “‘Memorandum to the Police Commissioner of the City of New York. From Inspector Richard Queen re Murder of Mrs. Abigail Doorn and Dr. Francis Janney. Dear Commissioner: I have the extreme honor and pleasure to report—’”