Ellery Queen - Cat of Many Tails

But Ellery said, “And that tantalizing gap between Victims 6 and 7 — Beatrice Willikins to Lenore Richardson. Up to that point the age differential between successive victims was never more than three years. Suddenly, seven.”

“The war—”

“But he was back in practice by 1919 or ’20, and Lenore Richardson was born in ’24.”

“Maybe he couldn’t locate one born during those years.”

“Not true. Here’s one, for instance, born in September 1921, Harold Marzupian. It’s in the directory. Here’s another, January 1922, Benjamin Treudlich. And he’s in the directory. I found at least five others born before 1924, and there are undoubtedly more. Still, he bypassed them to strike at Lenore Richardson, 25. Why? Well, what happened between the murders of Beatrice Willikins and Lenore Richardson?”

“What?”

“It’s going to sound stuffy, but the fact is that between those two homicides the Mayor appointed a Special Investigator to look into the Cat murders.”

The Inspector raised his brows.

“No, think about it. There was an enormous splash of publicity. My name and mission were talked and written about sensationally. My appointment couldn’t fail to have made an impression on the Cat. He must have asked himself what the sudden turn of events meant to his chances of continuing his murder spree with safety. The newspapers, you’ll recall, spread out the whole hog. They rehashed old cases of mine, spectacular solutions — Superman stuff. Whether the Cat knew much about me before that, you may be sure he read everything that was printed and listened to everything that was broadcast afterwards.”

“You mean he was scared of you?” grinned Inspector Queen.

“It’s much more likely,” Ellery retorted, “that he welcomed the prospect of a duel. Remember that we’re dealing with a special kind of madman — a man trained in the science of the human mind and personality and at the same time a paranoiac in full flight, with systematized delusions of his own greatness. A man like that would likely consider my appearance in the investigation a challenge; and it’s borne out by the seven-year jump from Willikins to Richardson.”

“How so?”

“What’s the outstanding fact about the Richardson girl in relation to Cazalis?”

“She was his wife’s niece.”

“So Cazalis deliberately skipped over any number of available victims to murder his own niece, knowing that this would draw him into the case naturally. Knowing he’d be bound to meet me on the scene. Knowing that under the circumstances it would be a simple matter to get himself drawn into the investigation as one of the investigators. Why did Mrs. Cazalis insist on her husband’s offering his services? Because he’d often ‘discussed’ his ‘theories’ about the Cat with her! Cazalis had prepared the way carefully by playing on his wife’s attachment to Lenore even before Lenore’s murder. If Mrs. Cazalis hadn’t brought the subject up, he would have volunteered. But she did, as he knew she would.”

“And there he was,” grunted the Inspector, “on the inside, in a position to know just what we were doing—”

“In a position to revel in his own power.” Ellery shrugged. “I told you I was rusty. I was aware all along of the possibility of such a move on the Cat’s part. Didn’t I suspect Celeste and Jimmy of exactly that motive? Couldn’t get it out of my mind. And all the while there was Cazalis—”

“No cords.”

They jumped.

But it was only Sergeant Velie in the closet doorway.

“They ought to be here, Velie,” snapped the Inspector. “How about those steel files in his office?”

“We’d have to get Bill Devander down to open them. I can’t. Not without leaving traces.”

“How much time do we have?” The Inspector pulled on his watch chain.

But Ellery was pinching his lip. “To do the job properly would take more time than we have today, Dad. I doubt that he keeps the cords here, anyway. Too much danger that his wife or the maid might find them.”

“That’s what I said,” said Sergeant Velie heatedly. “I said to the Inspector — remember? — I said, Inspector, he’s got ’em stashed in a public locker some...”

“I know what you said, Velie, but they might also be right here in the apartment. We’ve got to have those cords, Ellery. The D.A. told me the other day that if we could connect a find of the same type of blue and pink cords with some individual, he’d be willing to go into court pretty nearly on that alone.”

“We can give the D.A.,” said Ellery suddenly, “a much better case.”

“How?”

Ellery put his hand on one of the walnut filing cabinets.

“All we have to do is put ourselves in Cazalis’s place. He’s certainly not finished — the cards on Petrucchi and Katz took him only as far as March 10, 1927, and his obstetrical records extend over three years beyond that.”

“I don’t quite get it,” complained the Sergeant.

But the Inspector was already at work on the drawer labeled 1927-30.

The birth card following Donald Katz’s was pink and it recorded the name “Rhutas, Roselle.” There was no Rhutas listed in the directory. The next card was blue. “Finkleston, Zalmon.” There was no such name in the directory.

Pink. “Heggerwitt, Adelaide.”

“Keep going, Dad.”

The Inspector took out another card. “Collins, Barclay M.”

“Plenty of Collinses... But no Barclay M.”

“The mother’s card gives her Christian name as—”

“It doesn’t matter. All his victims have had personal listings in the phone book. I checked a few parents’ names before, where the victim wasn’t listed, and I found two in the book; there must be lots of others. But he passed those up, I imagine because it would have increased the amount of investigating he’d have to do and by that much increased the risk. So far at least he’s taken only directly traceable cases. What’s the next card?”

“Frawlins, Constance.”

“No.”

Fifty-nine cards later the Inspector read, “Soames, Marilyn.”

“How do you spell that?”

“S-o-a-m-e-s.”

“S-o-a... Soames. Here it is! Soames, Marilyn!”

“Let me see that!”

It was the only Soames listed. The address was 486 East 29th Street.

“Off First Avenue,” muttered the Inspector. “Within spitting distance of Bellevue Hospital.”

“What are the mother’s and father’s names? On the white card?”

“Edna L. and Frank P. Father’s occupation given as ‘postal employee.’”

“Could we get a quick check on Marilyn Soames and her family? While we’re waiting here?”

“It’s getting late... I’ll ring the Mayor first, make sure he hangs on to Cazalis. Velie, where’s the phone?”

“There’s a couple in his office.”

“No household phone?”

“In a phone closet off the foyer.”

The Inspector went away.

When he returned, Ellery said, “They’re not calling back here, are they?”

“What do you think I am, Ellery?” The Inspector was peevish. “We’d be in a fine mess if we answered a personal call! I’m calling them back in half an hour. Velie, if the phone rings out there don’t answer it.”

“What do you think I am!”

They waited.

Sergeant Velie kept tramping about the foyer.

The Inspector kept pulling out his watch.

Ellery picked up the pink card.

Soames, Marilyn, f., b. Jan. 2, 1928, 7:13 A.M.

Add to population of Manhattan one female. Vital statistics of a birth. Recorded by the hand of death.

Onset of labor Natural

Position at delivery L.O.T.

Duration of labor 10 hrs.