Эллери Куин - The Devil To Pay

“No, he just had to sit and take it. Every emotion of his since Monday night has been genuine.”

Ellery turned to find Val and Walter before him. Val was still sniffling with her handkerchief to her nose, but she looked calmer. “I can’t thank you, Mr. King. None of us can. But—”

“Feel better, Walter?”

“We’re still a little dazed,” said Walter, “but you might be interested to learn that Val and I have decided to do something constructive with my father’s money.”

“I know,” sighed Ellery. “You’re going to put it all back into Ohippi and rehabilitate the plants.”

“How did you know?” they cried together.

“Because,” said Ellery, “you’re that kind of damned fool.”

“That reminds me,” murmured Rhys. “That five million properly belongs to you now, Walter. I’ll—”

“You’ll do nothing of the sort.” Walter smiled faintly. “I hope you’ll find me a better partner than my father was.”

“Look,” said Inspector Glücke, who was still hanging about. “I’ve got work to do. But I’ve got to tell you, King—”

Walter said suddenly: “King? Let me show you a trick, Inspector.”

“I’ve had all the tricks I want. King—”

“No, no, you’ll enjoy this one.” Walter seized a piece of paper from the desk and with a soft pencil began to sketch a face with great rapidity. Glücke looked puzzled. “So what? That’s King. I haven’t time to look at pictures—”

“You have for this.” Walter erased the shaded glasses and replaced them with pince-nez . Over the face he smudged a beard. And he put the hair-part in a different place. “Who’s that?”

The Inspector gaped from the drawing to Mr. Hilary King. “My God,” he screamed, “the pest!”

“I think I knew it,” shrugged Walter, “from the moment I saw him. You might fool others, Queen, but you couldn’t fool an artist. I sketched your face at the auction.”

“Mr. Queen?” said Val, wide-eyed. “So that’s how you knew what went on here Monday night!”

“I’ll be damned,” said Jardin, staring.

Ellery reached hastily for the telephone and gave the operator a number. “Magna Studios? Connect me with Mr. Jacques Butcher’s office.” As he waited, he said apologetically: “As long as I’m unmasked I may as well go back to work... Hello, Butcher?... Who?” He swallowed hard. “Now look here, young woman. This is Ellery Queen, and I — want — Butcher!.. He is there? Put him on!” He said exultantly: “Can you imagine? Butcher at last!” There was a buzzing noise in the receiver and he slowly sucked his lean cheeks in. “Oh, is that so?” he yelled. “So he can’t see me — yet? Well, you tell your Mr. Butcher—” But there was a click. He stared at the dead telephone and then hurled the whole thing away.

“Uh— Queen,” said the Inspector nervously. “I want to apologize — I mean, you’ve cracked this case and the credit is really—”

Ellery waved his hand. “Don’t want any,” he said grumpily. “Leave me out of it... Can’t see me, hey?”

“That’s white of you,” beamed Glücke. “Say, I take it all back. How’d you like to meet the Chief of Police and the Mayor? And we could put you up—”

“He’s staying with me,” said Walter. “That’s definite.”

“Or maybe you’d like to be appointed Honorary Chief?” glowed the Inspector. “I’ve got a drag—”

“Wait,” said Ellery, frowning. “You’re grateful, eh, Inspector?”

“What do you think?”

“You’d have the City run a banquet for me, I suppose?”

“Hell, yes. We could—”

“I wouldn’t have to pay any traffic fines, either?”

“Leave it to me.”

“You could even see that I met the Governor, couldn’t you?”

Inspector Glücke said earnestly: “The Governor, or the President, or anybody .”

“It’s tougher than that,” said Ellery in a despairing voice. “Get me in to see Butcher.”