The Egyptian Cross Mystery

AGENTS HAVE FOUND OLD RECORDS OF TVAR-KROSAC FEUD STEFAN ANDREJA AND TOMISLAV TVAR AMBUSHED AND ASSASSINATED VELJA KROSACS FATHER AND TWO PATERNAL UNCLES THEN ROBBED KROSAC HOUSE OF LARGE SUM OF MONEY THEREAFTER FLEEING MONTENEGRO STOP COMPLAINT OF ELDER KROSACS WIDOW TOO LATE TO APPREHEND TVARS NO TRACE OF TVARS AFTER THIS NOR OF WIDOW KROSAC AND HER YOUNG SON VELJA COMPLETE DETAILS OF FEUD FOR SEVERAL GENERATIONS AVAILABLE TO YOU IF DESIRED

It was signed by the Minister of Police, Belgrade, Yugoslavia.

“So,” said Professor Yardley. “You were right after all, Queen. They were nothing but common thieves.”

Ellery sighed. “An empty triumph. It merely means that Velja Krosac had an additional motive for the murder of the Tvar brothers. His family wiped out, his money stolen. I can’t see that it clears up anything but a minor point... As for Megara’s story about having kept track of the young Krosac — it’s probably true. Except that instead of sending agents out from Montenegro, they employed men via the mails when they got to this country.”

“Poor devil. I can almost find it in my heart to pity him.”

“You can’t take away the blood and brutality of the crimes, Professor,” said Vaughn sharply. “Sure he has motive. There’s a motive for every murder. But you don’t find murderers getting off scot-free just because they had a reason... Well, what is it?”

Another detective had dropped aboard bearing a sheaf of official-looking papers and telegrams. “Sergeant sent these, Inspector. Last night’s reports.”

“Hmm.” Vaughn rapidly went through the papers. “On the Lynns.”

“Any news?” asked Isham.

“Nothing of importance. Naturally people all over the country think they’ve spotted ’em. Here’s one all the way from Arizona — they’re following it up. Another from Florida — man and a woman of the general description seen in a car round Tampa way. Maybe, maybe.” He stuffed the reports into one of his pockets. “I’ll bet they’ve holed up in New York. Be damned fools to go shooting across country. Canadian and Mexican borders seem to be okay. I don’t think they’ve slipped out of the country... Hullo! Bill seems to have found something!”

The detective was standing up in an outboard waving his hat and yelling something indistinguishable. He scrambled aboard like a monkey, eyes shining.

“Righto, Chief!” he cried, as soon as he had his feet on the deck. “You hit it on the head. Found plenty over there!”

“What?”

“Checked up on the rowboat first; it’s the one that belongs to that slip, all right. Rope was cut with a sharp knife; the knot’s still hangin’ on the slip ring, and the rope on the boat itself shows a cut that matches the other end.”

“All right, all right,” said Vaughn impatiently. “He used that rowboat; we know that. Did you find anything near the dock there?”

“And how. Footprints.” They all echoed the word and leaned forward. Bill nodded. “There’s soft earth just behind the slip. In it we found five prints — three lefts and two rights of the same size shoe — man’s, about eight and a half, I’d say. And whoever made those prints limped.”

“Limped?” repeated Professor Yardley. “How on earth do you know?”

Bill turned a pitying glance on the tall ugly scholar. “What the — Say, that’s the first time I ever heard anybody ask a question like that. Don’t you read the pulps? Prints of the right shoe were much deeper than the left. A hell of a lot. Right heels dug way in. A bad limp in his left leg, I’d say; left heels hardly show.”

“Good work, Bill,” said Vaughn; he regarded the antenna masts. “Mr. Megara,” he said grimly, “next time — if there’s another world and I’m there with, you — you’ll listen to me. No protection, hey? You saw where you got with protection... Anything else, Bill?”

“No. The path down from the main road, between the Lynn place and Bradwood, is gravel, and the main road is macadam. So there aren’t any other prints. The boys are workin’ on the limping-man trail anyway; didn’t need the prints, although they help.”