The Roman Hat Mystery

“No doubt about it,” returned the toxicologist. “The stomach, showed a large whisky content. Certainly, it would be an easy way for the murderer to slip it over on his victim. With the whisky you get nowadays, most of it smells etherized, anyway. And besides, Field probably had it down before he realized anything was wrong — if he did at all.”

“Wouldn’t he taste the stuff?” asked Ellery wearily.

“I’ve never tasted it, young man, so I can’t say definitely,” answered Dr. Jones, a trifle tartly. “But I doubt whether he would — sufficiently to alarm him, at any rate. Once he had it down it wouldn’t make any difference.”

Queen turned to Prouty, whose cigar had gone out. He had fallen into a hearty doze. “Say, Doc!”

Prouty opened his eyes sleepily. “Where are my slippers — I can’t even seem to find my slippers, damn it!”

Despite the tension of the moment, there was a spontaneous roar of amusement at the expense of the Assistant Medical Examiner. When he had come to with sufficient thoroughness to understand what he had said, he joined the chuckling group and said, “Just goes to prove that I’d better be going home, Queen. What did you want to know?”

“Tell me,” said Queen, still shaking, “what did you get from your analysis of the whisky?”

“Oh!” Prouty sobered instantly. “The whisky in the flask was as fine as any I’ve ever tested — and I’ve been doing nothing but testing booze for years now. It was the poison in the liquor on his breath that made me think at first that Field had drunk rotten booze. The Scotch and rye that you sent me in bottles from Field’s apartment were also of the very highest quality. Probably the flask’s contents came from the same place as the bottled stuff. In fact, I should say that both samples were imported goods. I haven’t come across domestic liquor of that caliber ever since the war — that is, except for the pre-war stuff that was stored away... And I suppose Velie communicated my report to you that the ginger ale is okay.”

Queen nodded. “Well, that seems to settle it,” he said heavily. “It looks as if we’re up against a blank wall on this tetra ethyl lead business. But just to make sure, Doc — work along with the professor here and try to locate a possible leak somewhere in the distribution of the poison. You fellows know more about that than anybody I could put on the case. It’s just a stab in the dark and probably nothing will come of it.”

“There’s no question about it,” murmured Ellery. “A novelist should stick to his last.”

“I think,” remarked Ellery eagerly, after the two doctors had gone, “that I’ll amble down to my bookseller for that Falconer.” He rose and began a hasty search for his coat.

“Here!” bellowed the Inspector, pulling him down into a chair. “Nothing doing. That blasted book of yours won’t run away. I want you to sit here and keep my headache company.”

Ellery nestled into the leather cushions with a sigh. “Just when I get to feeling that all investigations into the foibles of the human mind are useless and a waste of time, my worthy sire puts the onus of thought upon me again. Heigh-ho! What’s on the menu?”

“I’m not putting any onus on you at all,” growled Queen. “And stop using such big words. I’m dizzy enough. What I want you to do is help me go over this confounded mess of a case and see — well, what we can see.”

“I might have suspected it,” said Ellery. “Where do I start?”

“You don’t,” grunted his father. “I’m doing the talking tonight and you’re going to listen. And you might make a few notes, too.”

“Let’s begin with Field. I think, in the first place, that we can take it for granted our friend went to the Roman Theatre Monday night not for pleasure but for business. Right?”

“No doubt about it in my mind,” said Ellery. “What did Velie report about Field’s movements Monday?”

“Field got to his office at 9:30 — his usual morning arrival hour. He worked until noon. He had no personal visitors all day. At twelve o’clock he lunched at the Webster Club alone, and at 1:30 returned to his office. He worked steadily until 4:00 — and seems to have gone straight home, as the doorman and elevator-man both testify he arrived at the apartment about 4:30. Velie could get no further data except that Michaels arrived at 5:00 and left at 6:00. Field left at 7:30, dressed as we found him. I have a list of the clients whom he saw during the day, but it doesn’t tell much.”

“How about the reason for his small bank account?” asked Ellery.