The Roman Hat Mystery

Mrs. Russo looked the old man coolly in the eye. “No, sir, he didn’t. And make believe I’m not sorry he didn’t, too!”

“A charming attitude of yours, Mrs. Russo. One of these days... I hope you understand that your skirts are not entirely — ah — clean in this matter, in a manner of speaking,” said the Inspector. “So please consider very carefully before you answer my next question. Where did Monte Field keep his private documents?”

“I don’t have to consider, Inspector,” she snapped. “I just don’t know. If there was any chance of my knowing I would, don’t worry.”

“Perhaps you made a few personal forays of your own when Field was absent from his apartment?” pursued Queen, smiling.

“Perhaps I did,” she answered with a dimpling cheek. “But it didn’t do any good. I’d swear they’re not in those rooms... Well, Inspector, anything else?”

The clear voice of Ellery seemed to startle her. But she coquettishly patted her hair as she turned towards him.

“As far as you know, Mrs. Russo,” said Ellery icily, “from long and no doubt intimate association with your gallant Leander — how many different silk tophats did he possess?”

“You’re the original crossword puzzle, aren’t you?” she gurgled. “As far as I know, Mr. Man, he had only one. How many does a guy need?”

“You’re certain of that, I suppose,” said Ellery.

“Sure’s you’re born, Mr. — Queen.” She contrived to slip a caress into her voice. Ellery stared at her as one stares at a strange zoological specimen. She made a little moue and turned about gayly.

“I’m not so popular around here so I’ll beat it... You’re not going to put me in a nasty cell, are you, Inspector? I can go now, can’t I?”

The Inspector bowed. “Oh yes — you may go, Mrs. Russo, under a certain amount of surveillance... But please understand that we may still require your delightful company at some not distant date. Will you remain in town?”

“Charmed, I’m sure!” she laughed and swept out of the room.

Velie snapped to his feet like a soldier and said, “Well, Inspector, I guess that settles it!”

The Inspector sank wearily into his chair. “Are you insinuating, Thomas, like some of Ellery’s stupid fiction sergeants — which you are not — that Mr. Morgan be arrested for the murder of Monte Field?”

“Why — what else?” Velie seemed at a loss.

“We’ll wait a while, Thomas,” returned the old man heavily.

16 In Which the Queens Go to the Theatre

Ellery and his father regarded each other across the length of the little office. Velie had resumed his seat with a puzzled frown. He sat quietly for a time in the growing silence, seemed suddenly to make a decision and asking permission left the room.

The Inspector grinned as he fumbled with the lid of his snuffbox.

“Did you get a scare, too, Ellery?”

Ellery, however, was serious. “That woman gives me a case of Wodehouse ‘willies,’” he said, shuddering. “Scare is much too mild a word.”

“I couldn’t for the moment grasp the significance of her attitude,” said Inspector Queen. “To think that she knew, while we have been fumbling around... It scattered my wits.”

“I should say the interview was highly successful,” commented Ellery. “Principally because I’ve been gathering a few interesting facts from this ponderous tome on chirography. But Mrs. Angela Russo does not measure up to my conception of perfect womanhood...”

“If you ask me,” chuckled the Inspector, “our beauteous friend has a crush on you. Consider the opportunities, my son—!”

Ellery made a grimace of profound distaste.

“Well!” Queen reached for one of the telephones on the desk. “Do you think we ought to give Benjamin Morgan another chance, Ellery?”

“Hanged if he deserves it,” grumbled Ellery. “But I suppose it’s the routine thing to do.”

“You forget the papers, son — the papers,” retorted the Inspector, a twinkle in his eye.

He spoke to the police operator in pleasant accents and a few moments later the buzzer sounded.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Morgan!” Queen said cheerfully. “And how are you today?”

“Inspector Queen?” asked Morgan after a slight hesitation. “Good afternoon to you, sir. How is the case progressing?”

“That’s a fair question, Mr. Morgan,” laughed the Inspector. “One, however, which I daren’t answer for fear of being accused of incompetency... Mr. Morgan, are you free this evening by any chance?”

Pause. “Why — not free exactly.” The lawyer’s voice was barely audible. “I am due at home, of course, for dinner, and I believe my wife has arranged a little bridge. Why, Inspector?”

“I was thinking of asking you to dine with my son and me this evening,” said the Inspector regretfully. “Could you possibly get away for the dinner hour?”

A longer paused. “If it’s absolutely necessary, Inspector—?”

“I wouldn’t put it that way exactly, Mr. Morgan... But I would appreciate your accepting the invitation.”

“Oh.” Morgan’s voice came more resolutely now. “In that case I’m at your command, Inspector. Where shall I meet you?”

“That’s fine, that’s fine!” said Queen. “How about Carlos’, at six?”