Эллери Куин - Dutch Shoe Mystery

“Medical Examiner kept him on something,” boomed Velie in his deep bass. “Be here later.”

“Good enough. Well, gentlemen...”

He grasped Velie’s lapel, opened his mouth to speak. Ellery paid scant attention to the Inspector; out of the corner of his eye he was watching Dr. Janney, who had retreated to the wall and stood quietly regarding his shoe-tips.

With an unmistakable air of relief.

The inspector was talking paternally to Velie, who towered above him.

“Now, you’ve got some things to do, Thomas,” said the old man. “First thing is to run down this feller Paradise — that his name, Dr. Minchen? — he’s superintendent of the Hospital, Thomas — and get his report on people who came in and people who went out this morning. I understand Paradise was put on the job immediately after the murder was discovered. Find out what he’s done. Second thing — check up the guards at all exits and entrances and substitute our own men. Third thing — send in this Dr. Byers and Miss Obermann on your way out. Scoot, Thomas!”

As Velie opened the Amphitheater door, a number of blue-coats became visible, wandering slowly about the operating-room. Ellery caught a brief flash of the gallery; Philip Morehouse was on his feet, protesting violently about something. He was in the grip of a burly policeman. To the side, Dr. Dunning and his daughter sat in what seemed to be stupefied silence.

Ellery exclaimed sharply, “Heavens, dad, the relatives!” He turned to Minchen. “John, there’s a dirty job for you. Will you go back to that Waiting Room — here’s an idea; take young Morehouse with you; he’s evidently in trouble up there — and inform Hendrik Doorn and Hulda Doorn, Miss Fuller and whoever else is there... Just a moment, John.” He conversed in low tones with the Inspector. The old man nodded and motioned to a detective.

“Here, Ritchie, you’re aching for something to do. Let’s see the District acquit itself,” said the Inspector. “Go over to that Waiting Room with Dr. Minchen and take charge. Keep ’em all in there — Doctor, you’ll probably need help; shouldn’t wonder if there’d be fainting and things there; might get a few nurses to help. Don’t let one of them go until I give permission, Ritchie.”

Ritchie, a black-jowled individual with a sullen air, made some indistinct reply and followed Minchen surlily from the room. Through the open door Ellery saw Minchen gesture upward toward Morehouse, who ceased struggling and bounded up to the gallery exit.

The door swung shut. Almost immediately it opened again to admit a white-clad physician and a nurse.

“Ah... Dr. Byers?” cried the Inspector. “Come in, come in! Glad you could come so soon. Not taking you or this charming young lady away from your work? No? Well, Well!... Dr. Byers,” he snapped suddenly, “were you in that Anæsthesia Room next door this morning?”

“Certainly.”

“Under what circumstances?”

“I was administering anæsthesia to a patient with the aid of Miss Obermann here. She’s my regular assistant.”

“Was any one besides you, Miss Obermann and your patient in the room?”

“No.”

“At what time were you attending to this duty?”

“We used the room from 10:25, when we took it over, until about 10:45. The patient was an appendectomy, scheduled to be operated on by Dr. Jonas, who was a little late. Had to wait for both ‘A’ and ‘B’ operating-rooms to be vacated — we’re busy to-day.”

“Hmm.” The Inspector smiled pleasantly. “And, Doctor, did any one enter the Anæsthesia Room while you occupied it?”

“No — that is,” added the physician hastily, “no stranger. Dr. Janney passed through about 10:30, I should say, perhaps a minute or two after, going into the Anteroom; and about ten minutes later came out again. Ten minutes or a little less.”

“You, too,” muttered Dr. Janney, flashing a venomous glance at Dr. Byers.

“Eh? I beg your pardon—?” stammered Dr. Byers. The nurse at his side looked astonished.

The Inspector came forward a little, speaking hurriedly. “Ah — never mind that now, Dr. Byers. Dr. Janney is not feeling well — a little upset — naturally, naturally!... Now, sir, you would be willing to make a sworn statement, I suppose, that the man you saw pass in and out of that room this morning was Dr. Janney?”

The doctor shifted restlessly, hesitating. “You put it pretty bluntly, sir... No, I wouldn’t make a sworn statement. After all,” he said, brightening up, “I didn’t see his face. He wore a surgical gag, gown, and the rest. Quite covered — oh, yes!”

“Indeed!” commented the Inspector. “So you wouldn’t swear to it. Yet a moment ago you seemed very sure it was Dr. Janney. Why?”

“Well...” again Dr. Byers hesitated, “of course there was the limp that we have grown so accustomed to...”

“Ha! the limp! Go on.”

“And then too, subconsciously, I suppose, I more or less anticipated the presence of Dr. Janney, since I knew that his next surgical case was in the Anteroom — we were upset about it — Mrs. Doorn, you know... and, well — I just thought so, that’s all.”

“And you, Miss Obermann,” the Inspector turned swiftly to the nurse, taking her by surprise — “did you assume it was Dr. Janney?”

“Yes... yes, sir,” she stammered, flushing. “For the — the same reasons as Dr. Byers.”

“Hmm!” grunted the Inspector. He took a turn about the room. Janney was staring unwinkingly at the floor. “Tell me Doctor,” continued the old man, “did your patient see Dr. Janney enter and leave? Was he conscious during this time?”

“I think,” faltered the physician, “that he might have seen Dr. — Dr. Janney come in, because the cone had not yet been applied and his table faced the door. But he was under ether when Dr. Janney reappeared, and couldn’t have seen, of course.”

“And who is this patient?”

A fleeting grin appeared on the lips of Dr. Byers. “I imagine he’s quite well known to you, Inspector Queen. Michael Cudahy.”

“Who? What! ‘Big Mike’!” The exclamations flew about the room. Every detective there had jerked about in surprise. The Inspector’s eyes narrowed.

He turned abruptly to one of his staff. “I thought you told me Michael Cudahy went to Chicago, Ritter,” he snapped. “You certainly get the fanciest ideas!” He wheeled on Dr. Byers. “Where’s ‘Big Mike’ now?” he demanded. “What room? I want to see that guerrilla!”

“He’s in a private room — 32 — on the third floor, Inspector,” replied the physician. “But it won’t do you any good to see him. He’s dead to the world, sir — they’ve just carted him out of the operating-room ‘B.’ Jonas operated. Your man caught me just as Jonas finished. He’s in his room now, but he won’t be out of the ether for a good couple of hours.”

“Johnson!” said the Inspector grimly. A small drab-looking man stepped forward. “Make a note to remind me to grill ‘Big Mike.’ Under ether, hey? That’s a new one.”

“Dr. Byers.” Ellery’s voice came quietly. “While you were working in the Anæsthesia Room, it is barely possible that you overheard some conversation emanating from here. Do you recall? Or you, Miss Obermann?”

Doctor and nurse regarded each other for a long moment. Dr. Byers looked frankly at Ellery. “Now, that’s funny,” he said. “It just happens that we overheard Miss Price call out to Dr. Janney that she would be ready in a moment, or something like that; and I remember remarking to Miss Obermann that the old ma — I mean Dr. Janney must be unusually cross to-day, because he didn’t even answer.”