Эллери Куин: Dutch Shoe Mystery

“Excellent, Pete.” Ellery looked pleased. “Two very excellent doubt-stimuli. But there’s an even more excellent answer to each of them.

“Mrs. Doorn was scheduled to be operated on for appendicitis about a month from now; it was common Hospital gossip. Undoubtedly the crime was planned for this time, with perhaps some variations in method. For example, an anæsthetist would have been present in the Anteroom, since the old lady would not then be in a coma; and the presence of the anæsthetist would have made it difficult for Lucille Price to commit the murder before the operation. I suppose she planned to kill Mrs. Doorn after the operation, in the old lady’s private room in the Hospital, when she could enter as Dr. Janney just as she entered the Anteroom in the actual crime-period. I’m positive that she would again have been the nurse in charge of Mrs. Doorn, due to her affiliation with Janney; so that substantially every detail of the crime was prepared even before the accident occurred — that is, clothes secreted somewhere on the premises, arrangements for Swanson to get Janney out of the way, and so forth. So that when the accident occurred, it merely required a slight readjustment under even more favorable conditions than she had hoped for — no anæsthetist chiefly — to set in motion the murder plan. A hasty telephone call to Swanson informing him of the new development, and the thing was done.”

Ellery felt his throat tenderly. “Dry as dust... As for your point that a murder might not have been necessary at all, it’s not tenable for this reason: Both Minchen and Janney were perfectly confident that Janney would pull the old lady through. Now certainly Lucille Price, so close to the surgeon, would be bound to accept his confident attitude. And consider that if Mrs. Doorn recovered, and the appendix operation were delayed indefinitely, Lucille Price would have had to wait indefinitely, and all her plans would have been up in the air. No, Pete, the accident merely hastened the commission of the crime; it certainly did not inspire the commission of the crime.”

Sampson sat still as stone, thinking. Ellery was watching him with amusement; Harper was chuckling to himself. Sampson said: “But Lucille Price’s motive? I don’t get it. What connection can there be between her and Swanson? There’s never been a hint — Why should she do the dirty work for him, if he’s the gainer by the double murder?”

Inspector Queen took his hat and coat from a clothes-tree, mumbling an apology. There was work to do. Before he left, he said in a mild voice, “Let Ellery tell you, Henry. It’s his story, no matter what he says... Djuna, be a good boy.”

As the door closed, Ellery relaxed in his father’s chair and crossed his feet on his father’s desk. “Very good question, Sampson,” he drawled. “I asked myself that one whole afternoon. What connection could there be between two apparently unrelated people? Swanson, nursing his hate of the old woman for having smashed his career by evicting him from the Hospital; a warped mentality, criminally scheming the death of his step-father for sanctioning the smash-up of his career, and also for financial reasons, since he was his stepfather’s heir despite everything... And Lucille Price, a quiet trained nurse— Yes, what connection was there?”

In the silence that followed Ellery extracted from his pocket the mysterious document which he had commissioned Harper to find on Thursday afternoon. He waved it in the air.

“This was the laconic answer. It explains why Lucille Price did the dirty work for Swanson, since it makes her heir with him to Janney’s estate.

“It conceals the story of several years of planning, criminal deliberation and hellish skill.

“It shows how and where Lucille Price was able to secure men’s surgical clothing without leaving a trail — from Swanson, the ex-surgeon, accounting by the way, for her use of trousers too long for her. The shoes are probably his, too; he is about five feet nine, but he’s small-boned.

“It points to their close and secret cooperation; such things as dangerously discussing, perhaps by telephone — for they must have been too canny to meet or live together — the premature killing of Janney. For Swanson was forced by the newspaper ruse the other day to visit your office, inadvertently and fortunately giving him a perfect alibi while Janney was being murdered.

“It explains why the same method was used to kill both people: for if Swanson were suspected and even arrested for Mrs. Doorn’s murder — a possibility in their minds — and Janney was then murdered in such a way as to make it seem the work of the same criminal, Swanson’s alibi for the second murder would automatically clear him of suspicion for the first.

“It implies that not even Janney knew that his step-son, Thomas Janney, alias Swanson, and Lucille Price were inextricably linked...

“Yes, what could be that link, I asked myself?”

Ellery tossed the document across the Inspector’s desk, so that District Attorney Sampson, Dr. Minchen and Djuna could lean over and inspect it. Harper merely grinned.

It was a photostatic copy of a marriage certificate.

Ed. Note: Viennese police-consultant

In the whole history of reporter-police relations there has never been a more interesting chapter than that written by Peter Harper. To credit the unique privileges he enjoyed, it is essential to understand that the police never found him an abuser of confidences. In addition, he had been instrumental “in tracking down through his independent efforts several notorious criminals sought by the police. He may be remembered for his inspired journalistic efforts in the nation-wide hunt for Chicago Jack Murphy, in the Barnaby-Ross revelations, and in the case that has come to be known throughout the world as the “Mimic Murders.” — The Editor

The allusion becomes intelligible when it is understood to which quotation Mr. Queen was referring. We asked Mr. J. J. McC. to clear up this point, which he was able to do only with difficulty. He discovered it to spring from a little-known quotation, “I hate a dumpy woman.” Undoubtedly Mr. Queen referred to Dr. Pennini. She was both “learned” and “dumpy,” to judge from his own description. — The Editor

Detective stories should concern themselves with relevancies. No description of the more or less well-known Queen domicile on West 87th Street is furnished here for the good and sufficient reason that it was fully described in an adventure post-dating The Dutch Shoe Mystery in time, but antedating it in appearance as a novel. I refer to The Roman Hat Mystery (Frederick A. Stokes Company, ’29). — Author’s Note

It must be borne in mind that the period during which the Doorn investigation took place preceded the current Police Department regulation which makes it obligatory for taxicabs to bear a special police-license number. — The Editor

For more detailed descriptions of Djuna, his background, and his association with the Queens, see The Roman Hat Mystery. — Editor’s Note

The manuscript of Murder of the Marionettes, one of the detective stories Ellery wrote under his own name. — J. J. McC.