The Roman Hat Mystery

“In desperation, I called a meeting of a number of the Monday night audience, hoping that I would find someone who remembered seeing Barry that night. Sometimes, you know, people recall events later which they forgot completely in the excitement of a previous quizzing. But this too, as it happened, was a failure. The only thing of value that turned up was the orangeade boy’s testimony about seeing Field pick up an evening bag in the alley. This got us nowhere as far as Barry was concerned, however. And remember that when we questioned the cast Thursday night we got no direct evidence from them.”

“So there we were with a beautifully hypothetical statement of facts for a jury, but not a shred of genuine evidence. The case we had to present would have offered no difficulties to a shrewd defending attorney. It was all circumstantial evidence, based chiefly on reasoning. You know as well as I do what a chance such a case would have in court... Then my troubles really began, for Ellery had to leave town.”

“I racked my brains — the few I have.” Queen scowled at his empty coffee cup. “Things looked black enough; How could I convict a man without evidence? It was maddening. And then Ellery did me the final service of wiring me a suggestion.”

“A suggestion?” asked Cronin.

“A suggestion that I do a little blackmailing myself...”

“Blackmailing yourself?” Sampson stared. “I don’t see the point.”

“Trust Ellery to make a point that on the surface is obscure,” retorted the Inspector. “I saw at once that the only course left open to me was to manufacture evidence!”

Both men frowned in puzzlement.

“It’s simple enough,” said Queen. “Field was killed by an unusual poison. And Field was killed because he was blackmailing Barry. Wasn’t it fair for me to assume that if Barry were suddenly blackmailed on the identical score, he would again use poison — and in all likelihood the same poison? I don’t have to tell you that ‘Once a poisoner always a poisoner.’ In the case of Barry, if I could only get him to try to use that tetra ethyl lead on somebody else, I’d have him! The poison is almost unknown — but I needn’t explain further. You can see that if I caught him with tetra ethyl lead, that would be all the evidence I needed.

“How to accomplish the feat was another matter... The blackmail opportunity fitted the circumstances perfectly. I actually had the original papers pertaining to Barry’s parentage and tainted blood. Barry thought these destroyed — he had no reason to suspect that the papers he took from Field were clever forgeries. If I blackmailed him he was in the same boat as before. Consequently he would have to take the same action.”

“And so I used our friend Charley Michaels. The only reason I utilized him was that to Barry it would seem logical that Michaels, Field’s crony and bully and constant companion, should be in possession of the original papers. I got Michaels to write a letter, dictated by me. The reason I wanted Michaels to write it was that possibly Barry, through association with Field, was familiar with the man’s handwriting. This may seem a small point but I couldn’t take any chances. If I slipped up on my ruse, Barry would see through it at once and I’d never get him again.”

“I enclosed a sheet of the original papers in the letter, to show that the new blackmailing threat had teeth. I stated that Field had brought Barry copies — the sheet enclosed proved my statement. Barry had no reason in the world to doubt that Michaels was milking him as his master had done before. The letter was so worded as to be an ultimatum. I set the time and the place and, to make a long story short, the plan worked...”

“I guess that’s all, gentlemen. Barry came, he had his trusty little hypodermic filled with tetra ethyl lead, also a flask — an exact replica, you see, of the Field crime except for locale. My man — it was Ritter — was instructed to take no chances. As soon as he recognized Barry he covered him and raised the alarm. Luckily we were almost at their elbows behind the bushes. Barry was desperate and would have killed himself and Ritter, too, if he’d had half a chance.”

There was a significant silence as the Inspector finished, sighed, leaned forward and took some snuff.

Sampson shifted in his chair. “Listens like a thriller, Q,” he said admiringly. “But I’m not clear on a few points. For example, if this tetra ethyl lead is so little known, how on earth did Barry ever find out about it — to the degree of actually making some himself?”