Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine. Vol. 5, No. 19, November 1944

“The girl slowly became aware that that man was not her father. She began to hate him. Even when she was a child she felt that she was unjustly treated. And once she knew that she was not obliged to feel for him the natural affection which a child owes its father, she was filled with such a fierce joy that she could find only one means of expressing her emotion without danger: she wrote over and over again in her little notebook:

My daddy isn’t my daddy

as when children discover a particular way of jumping that delights them and go on jumping until they’re exhausted.”

The Chief of the Commission of Security fixed his gaze on the little notebook which Máximo Roldán had taken out of his pocket when he began to talk.

Máximo Roldán nodded. “This is the notebook, Chief. You may observe the development that was going on in the girl as the years went by. That first phrase was followed by another:

I don’t love him because

he’s not my daddy

and then others that indicate progressively the state of her spirit:

He is not my father

That man is not my father

Not my father

and later on these others, still more terrible, marking a new discovery:

He filled my father

and mother

I must hate him

until we reach the last, which decided the old man’s fate:

I must kill him

All these phrases constantly reiterated, taking possession of the girl, flowing through her very being, ever feeding her hatred and intensifying her decision to kill the man who had murdered her parents and was mistreating her — And then came the dénouement.”

“Where did you find this notebook?” the Chief asked.

“In the girl’s room, when I went to question her.”

“You managed to take it without her noticing?”

“She wasn’t there.”

“What?” the Chief of the Security Commission exclaimed.

“She wasn’t there,” Máximo Roldán repeated.

The Chief of the Security Commission leaped for the door. Máximo Roldán held him back for a moment.

“Just a minute, Chief. I meant to tell you something else: the jewels have disappeared.”

“What!”

“Yes. They aren’t in the night-table any more.”

This time the Chief of the Commission waited no longer. He opened the door and started running down the hall.

Máximo Roldán left in his turn. Tranquilly he descended the stairs, reached the garden, strolled across it, and stopped before the policeman who was stationed at the street door.

“The Chief says you’re not to leave this spot for a single moment.”

“Very well, sir.”

“Under penalty of arrest, you’re not to let any woman leave, for any reason.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good. And if you need it, call for help. You understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Fine. Oh — as soon as you see the Chief, tell him not to worry.”

“Not to worry, sir?”

“Everything’s all right. I have the jewels with me.”

“Oh. Yes, sir.”

“See you later.”

And Máximo Roldán went on to the corner, turned it, and vanished.