The Roman Hat Mystery

He gestured in the direction of the trembling little man in the corner, who stepped forward hesitantly, licked his lips, looked about him with a helpless expression, and then stood silent.

“What’s your name?” asked the Inspector, in a kindly tone.

“Pusak — William Pusak,” said the man. “I’m a bookkeeper, sir. I was just—”

“One at a time, Pusak. Where were you sitting?”

Pusak pointed eagerly to the sixth seat from the aisle, in the last row. A frightened young girl in the fifth seat sat staring in their direction.

“I see,” said the Inspector. “Is that young lady with you?”

“Yes, sir — yes, sir. That’s my fiancée, sir. Her name is Esther — Esther Jablow...”

A little to the rear a detective was scribbling in a notebook. Ellery stood behind his father, glancing from one exit to another. He began to draw a diagram on the flyleaf of a small book he had taken from his topcoat pocket.

The Inspector scrutinized the girl, who immediately averted her eyes. “Now, Pusak, I want you to tell me just what happened.”

“I–I didn’t do a thing out of the way, sir.”

Inspector Queen patted his arm. “Nobody is accusing you of anything, Pusak. All I want is your story of what happened. Take your time — tell it your own way...”

Pusak gave him a curious glance. Then he moistened his lips and began. “Well, I was sitting there in that seat with my — with Miss Jablow — and we were enjoying the show pretty much. The second act was kind of exciting — there was a lot of shooting and yelling on the stage — and then I got up and started to go out the row to the aisle. This aisle — here.” He pointed nervously to the spot of carpet on which he was standing. Queen nodded, his face benign.

“I had to push past my — Miss Jablow, and there wasn’t anybody except one man between her and the aisle. That’s why I went that way. I didn’t sort of like to” — he hesitated apologetically — “to bother people going out that way in the middle of the most exciting part...”

“That was very decent of you, Pusak,” said the Inspector, smiling.

“Yes, sir. So I walked down the row, feeling my way, because it was pretty dark in the theatre, and then I came to — to this man.” He shuddered, and continued more rapidly. “He was sitting in a funny way, I thought. His knees were touching the seat in front of him and I couldn’t get past. I said, ‘I’m sorry,’ and tried again, but his knees hadn’t moved an inch. I didn’t know what to do, sir — I’m not nervy, like some fellows, and I was going to turn around and go back when all of a sudden I felt the man’s body slip to the floor — I was still pressed up close to him. Of course, I got kind of scared — it was only natural...”

“I should say,” said the Inspector, with concern. “It must have given you quite a turn. Then what happened?”

“Well, sir... Then, before I realized what was happening, he fell clean out of his seat and his head bumped against my legs. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t call for help — I don’t know why, but I couldn’t somehow — and I just naturally bent over him, thinking he was drunk or sick or something, and meant to lift him up. I hadn’t figured on what I’d do after that...”

“I know just how you felt, Pusak. Go on.”

“Then it happened — the thing I told this policeman about. I’d just got hold of his head when I felt his hand come up and grab mine, just like he was trying awfully hard to get a grip on something, and he moaned. It was so low I could hardly hear it, but sort of horrible. I can’t quite describe it exactly...”

“Now, we’re getting on,” said the Inspector. “And?”

“And then he talked. It wasn’t really talking — it was more like a gurgle, as if he was choking. He said a few words that I didn’t catch at all, but I realized that this was something different from just being sick or drunk, so I bent even lower and listened hard. I heard him gasp, ‘It’s murder... Been murdered...’ or something like that...”

“So he said, ‘It’s murder,’ eh?” The Inspector regarded Pusak with severity. “Well, now. That must have given you a shock, Pusak.” He snapped suddenly, “Are you certain this man said ‘murder’?”

“That’s what I heard, sir. I’ve got good hearing,” said Pusak doggedly.

“Well” Queen relaxed, smiling again. “Of course. I just wanted to make sure. Then what did you do?”

“Then I felt him squirm a little and all of a sudden go limp in my arms. I was afraid he’d died and I don’t know how — but next thing I knew I was in the back telling it all to the policeman — this policeman here.” He pointed to Doyle, who rocked on his heels impersonally.

“And that’s all?”

“Yes, sir. Yes, sir. That’s all I know about it,” said Pusak, with a sigh of relief.

Queen grasped him by the coat front and barked, “That isn’t all, Pusak. You forgot to tell us why you left your seat in the first place!” He glared into the little man’s eyes.

Pusak coughed, teetered back and forth a moment, as if uncertain of his next words, then leaned forward and whispered into the Inspector’s astonished ear.