The Roman Hat Mystery

Frances turned her smile upon Ellery, who blinked quite humanly. “I didn’t take particular notice of his clothes, Mr. Queen,” she said, displaying white, brilliant teeth. “But I seem to remember his wearing a full-dress suit — his shirt bosom was a little stained — they were like liquor stains — and a tophat. From what I recall of his attire, it was rather fastidious and in good taste, except, of course, for the stains on his shirt.”

Ellery murmured a fascinated thanks and subsided against the bookcase. With a sharp look at his son, Queen rose to his feet.

“Then that will be all, ladies and gentlemen. I think we may safely consider the incident closed.”

There was an instantaneous little burst of approval and everybody rose to press in on Frances, who was radiant with happiness. Barry, Peale and Eve Ellis bore Frances off in triumphal march, while Stanford, with a lugubrious smile, offered his mother a carefully elbowed arm.

“Thus endeth the first lesson,” he announced gravely. “Mater, my arm before you faint!” A protesting Mrs. Ives-Pope departed, leaning ponderously on her son.

Ives-Pope shook Queen’s hand vigorously. “Then you think it’s all over as far as my girl is concerned?” he asked.

“I think so, Mr. Ives-Pope,” answered the Inspector. “Well, sir, thank you for your courtesy. And now we must be going — lots of work to do. Coming, Henry?”

Five minutes later Queen, Ellery and District Attorney Sampson were striding side by side down Riverside Drive toward 72nd Street, earnestly discussing the events of the morning.

“I’m glad that line of investigation is cleared up with no result,” said Sampson dreamily. “By the Lord Harry, I admire that girl’s pluck, Q!”

“Good child,” said the Inspector. “What do you think, Ellery?” he asked suddenly, turning on his son, who was walking along staring at the River.

“Oh, she’s charming,” Ellery said at once, his abstracted eyes brightening.

“I didn’t mean the girl, my son,” said his father irritably. “I meant the general aspect of the morning’s work.”

“Oh, that!” Ellery smiled a little. “Do you mind if I become Æsopian?”

“Yes,” groaned his father.

“A lion,” said Ellery, “may be beholden to a mouse.”

13 Queen to Queen

Djuna had just cleared the table of the dinner dishes and was serving coffee to the two Queens at six-thirty that evening when the outer doorbell rang. The little man-of-all-work straightened his tie, pulled down his jacket (while the Inspector and Ellery eyed him in twinkling amusement), and marched gravely into the foyer. He was back in a moment bearing a silver tray upon which lay two calling cards. The Inspector picked them up with beetling brows.

“Such ceremony, Djuna!” he murmured. “Well, well! So ‘Doc’ Prouty’s bringing a visitor. Show ’em in, you imp!”

Djuna marched back and returned with the Chief Assistant Medical Examiner and a tall, thin, emaciated man, entirely bald and wearing a closely clipped beard. Queen and Ellery rose.

“I’ve been expecting to hear from you, Doc!” Queen grinned, shaking hands with Prouty. “And if I’m not mistaken, here’s Professor Jones himself! Welcome to our castle, Doctor.” The thin man bowed.

“This is my son and keeper of my conscience, Doctor,” Queen added, presenting Ellery. “Ellery — Dr. Thaddeus Jones.”

Dr. Jones offered a large limp hand. “So you’re the chap Queen and Sampson keep prattling about!” he boomed. “Certainly happy to meet you, sir.”

“I’ve been fairly itching to be introduced to New York City’s Paracelsus and eminent Toxicologist,” smiled Ellery. “The honor of rattling the city’s skeletons is all yours.” He shuddered elaborately and indicated some chairs. The four men sat down.

“Join us in some coffee, gentlemen,” urged Queen, and shouted to Djuna, whose bright eyes were visible from behind the kitchenette door. “Djuna! You rascal! Coffee for four!” Djuna grinned and disappeared, to pop out a moment later like a jack-in-the-box, bearing four cups of steaming coffee.

Prouty, who resembled the popular conception of Mephistopheles, whipped from his pocket one of his black, dangerous-looking cigars and began to puff away furiously.

“This chitter-chatter may be all right for you men of leisure,” he said briskly, between puffs, “but I’ve been working like a beaver all day analyzing the contents of a lady’s stomach, and I want to get home for some sleep.”

“Hear, hear!” murmured Ellery, “I gather from your soliciting the aid of Professor Jones that you met with some obstruction in your analysis of Mr. Field’s corporeal remains. Lay on, Æsculapius!”