A question of murder
The next day dawned sullenly, as ashen and hopeless a morning as ever was. Incredibly, it still snowed in the same thick fashion, as if the whole sky were crumbling bit by bit.
Ellery spent the better part of the day in the garage, tinkering at the big black car’s vitals. He left the doors wide open, so that anyone who wished might see what he was about. He knew little enough of automotive mechanics, and he felt from the start that he was engaged in a futile business.
But in the late afternoon, after hours of vain experimentation, he suddenly came upon a tiny wire which seemed to him to be out of joint with its environment. It simply hung, a useless thing. Logic demanded a connection. He experimented. He found one.
As he stepped on the starter and heard the cold motor sputter into life, a shape darkened the entrance of the garage. He turned off the ignition quickly and looked up.
It was Keith, a black mass against the background of snow, standing with widespread legs, a large can hanging from each big hand.
“Hello, there,” murmured Ellery. “You’ve assumed human shape again, I see. Back on one of your infrequent jaunts to the world of men, Keith?”
Keith said quietly: “Going somewhere, Mr. Queen?”
“Certainly. Why — do you intend to stop me?”
“Depends on where you’re going.”
“Ah, a threat. Well, suppose I tell you where to go?”
“Tell all you want. You don’t get off these grounds until I know where you’re bound for.”
Ellery grinned. “There’s a naive directness about you, Keith, that draws me in spite of myself. Well, I’ll relieve your mind. Thorne and I are taking Miss Mayhew back to the city.”
“In that case it’s all right.” Ellery studied his face; it was worn deep with ruts of fatigue and worry. Keith dropped the cans to the cement floor of the garage. “You can use these, then. Gas.”
“Gas! Where on earth did you get it?”
“Let’s say,” said Keith grimly, “I dug it up out of an old Indian tomb.”
“Very well.”
“You’ve fixed Thome’s car, I see. Needn’t have. I could have done it.”
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because nobody asked me to.” The giant swung on his heel and vanished.
Ellery sat still, frowning. Then he got out of the car, picked up the cans, and poured their contents into the tank. He reached into the car again, got the engine running, and leaving it to purr away like a great cat he went back to the house.
He found Alice in her room, a coat over her shoulders, staring out her window. She sprang up at his knock.
“Mr. Queen, you’ve got Mr. Thome’s car going!”
“Success at last,” smiled Ellery. “Are you ready?”
“Oh, yes! I feel so much better, now that we’re actually to leave. Do you think we’ll have a hard time? I saw Mr. Keith bring those cans in. Petrol, weren’t they? Nice of him. I never did believe such a nice young man—” She flushed. There were hectic spots in her checks and her eyes were brighter than they had been for days. Her voice seemed less husky, too.
“It may be hard going through the drifts, but the car is equipped with chains. With luck we should make it. It’s a powerful—”
Ellery stopped very suddenly indeed, his eyes fixed on the worn carpet at his feet, stony yet startled.
“Whatever is the matter, Mr. Queen?”
“Matter?” Ellery raised his eyes and drew a deep, deep breath. “Nothing at all. God’s in His heaven and all’s right with the world.” She looked down at the carpet. “Oh... the sun!” With a little squeal of delight she turned to the window. “Why, Mr. Queen, it’s stopped snowing. There’s the sun setting — at last!”
“And high time, too,” said Ellery briskly. “Will you please get your things on? We leave at once.” He picked up her bags and left her, walking with a springy vigor that shook the old boards. He crossed the corridor to his room opposite hers and began, whistling, to pack his bag.
The living-room was noisy-with a babble of adieux. One would have said that this was a normal household, with normal people in a normal human situation. Alice was positively gay, quite as if she were not leaving a fortune in gold for what might turn out to be all time.
She set her purse down on the mantel next to her mother’s chromo, fixed her hat, flung her arms about Mrs. Reinach, pecked gingerly at Mrs. Fell’s withered cheek, and even smiled forgivingly at Dr. Reinach. Then she dashed back to the mantel, snatched up her purse, threw one long enigmatic glance at Keith’s drawn face, and hurried outdoors as if the devil himself were after her.
Thorne was already in the car, his old face alight with incredible happiness, as if he had been reprieved at the very moment he was to set his foot beyond the little green door. He beamed at the dying sun.
Ellery followed Alice more slowly. The bags were in Thome’s car; there was nothing more to do. He climbed in, raced the motor, and then released the brake.
The fat man filled the doorway, shouting: “You know the road, now, don’t you? Turn to the right at the end of this drive. Then keep going in a straight line. You can’t miss. You’ll hit the main highway in about...”
His last words were drowned in the roar of the engine. Ellery waved his hand. Alice, in the tonneau beside Thorne, twisted about and laughed a little hysterically. Thorne sat beaming at the back of Ellery’s head.
The car, under Ellery’s guidance, trundled unsteadily out of the drive and made a right turn into the road.
It grew dark rapidly. They made slow progress. The big machine inched its way through the drifts, slipping and lurching despite its chains. As night fell, Ellery turned the powerful headlights on.
He drove with unswerving concentration.
None of them spoke.
It seemed hours before they reached the main highway. But when they did the car leaped to life on the road, which had been partly cleared by snowplows, and it was not long before they were entering the nearby town.
At the sight of the friendly electric lights, the paved streets, the solid blocks of houses, Alice gave a cry of sheer delight. Ellery stopped at a gasoline station and had the tank filled.
“It’s not far from here, Miss Mayhew,” said Thorne reassuringly. “We’ll be in the city in no time. The Triborough Bridge...”
“Oh, it’s wonderful to be alive!”
“Of course you’ll stay at my house. My wife will be delighted to have you. After that...”
“You’re so kind, Mr. Thorne. I don’t know how I shall ever be able to thank you enough.” She paused, startled. “Why, what’s the matter, Mr. Queen?”
For Ellery had done a strange thing. Fie had stopped the car at a traffic intersection and asked the officer on duty something in a low tone. The officer stared at him and replied with gestures. Ellery swung the car off into another street. He drove slowly.
“What’s the matter?” asked Alice again, leaning forward.
Thorne said, frowning: “You can’t have lost your way. There’s a sign which distinctly says...”
“No, it’s not that,” said Ellery in a preoccupied way. “I’ve just thought of something.”
The girl and the old man looked at each other, puzzled. Ellery stopped the car at a large stone building with green lights outside and went in, remaining there for fifteen minutes. He came out whistling.
“Queen!” said Thorne abruptly, eyes on the green lights. “What’s up?”
“Something that must be brought down.” Ellery swung the car about and headed it for the traffic intersection. When he reached it he turned left.
“Why, you’ve taken the wrong turn,” said Alice nervously. “This is the direction from which we’ve just come. I’m sure of that.”
“And you’re quite right, Miss Mayhew. It is.” She sank back, pale, as if the very thought of returning terrified her. “We’re going back, you see,” said Ellery.
“Back!” exploded Thorne, sitting up straight.
“Oh, can’t we just forget all those horrible people?” moaned Alice.
“I’ve a viciously stubborn memory. Besides, we have reinforcements. If you’ll look back you’ll see a car following us. It’s a police car, and in it are the local Chief of Police and a squad of picked men.”
“But why, Mr. Queen?” cried Alice.
Thorne said nothing; his happiness had quite vanished, and he sat gloomily staring at the back of Ellery’s neck.
“Because,” said Ellery grimly, “I have my own professional pride. Because I’ve been on the receiving end of a damnably cute magician’s trick.”
“Trick?” she repeated dazedly.
“Now I shall turn magician myself. You saw a house disappear.” He laughed softly. “I shall make it appear again!”
They could only stare at him, too bewildered to speak.
“And then,” said Ellery, his voice hardening, “even if we chose to overlook such trivia as dematerialized houses, in all conscience we can’t overlook... murder.”