A Fine and Private Place by Ellery Queen Read Free Book Online

bed without my being aware you’d even come home. And why not? There are heavyweight VIPs involved, the crunch is on downtown, you’re not getting any younger, and did I ever leave you in the lurch? Now let’s get to it.”
    â€œYou really want to, son?”
    â€œI thought I’d just said so.”
    A beautiful change came over Inspector Queen. The relief map of his face turned into a map of relief.
    â€œIn that case,” he cried, “you get your jacket!”
    Ellery rose to oblige. “Where to?”
    â€œLab.”
    A sergeant, Joe Voytershack, one of the Technical Services Bureau’s most reliable men, was on overtime duty tonight, by which Ellery gauged the importance of the case in the eyes of the budget-conscious brass. Sergeant Voytershack was studying a button under his loupe. The button was of gold, and a clump of navy blue threads protruded from it.
    â€œWhat’s the problem, Joe?” Inspector Queen asked. “I thought you’d finished with the button.”
    â€œI had.”
    â€œThen why are you examining it again?”
    â€œBecause,” Sergeant Voytershack said sourly, “I’m goddam unhappy about it. Because I don’t like this button. Because I don’t like it from bupkes . And I don’t see you leaping for joy, either, Inspector.”
    â€œEllery wants a look.”
    â€œHello, Joe,” Ellery said.
    â€œBe my guest.” The sergeant handed him the loupe and the button.
    Ellery peered.
    â€œI thought, dad, you said this button was torn off during a struggle.”
    â€œDid I say that?”
    â€œNot exactly. But I naturally assumed—”
    â€œI think you’re going to find out, my son,” Inspector Queen said, “that in this case assumptions are kind of risky. What I said was that there were indications of a violent struggle, which there are, and that we found a gold button on the scene, which we did. I didn’t say one necessarily had to do with the other. Just for ducks, Ellery: What do you see?”
    â€œI see a clump of threads of identical length, with very sharp, clean ends. If the button had been yanked off during a struggle—that is, by hand—the lengths of the threads would vary and the ends, instead of being sharp and clean, would be ragged. This button was snipped off whatever it was attached to by a sharp-edged instrument, a scissors or knife, more likely a scissors.”
    â€œRight,” said Sergeant Voytershack.
    â€œRight,” said Inspector Queen.
    â€œWas it found in the dead man’s hand?”
    â€œIt was found on the dead man’s floor.”
    Ellery shrugged. “Not that it would change the picture if you’d found it in his hand. The fact is, someone cut this button off something belonging to Marco Importunato. Since it was found on the scene of the murder, the indicated conclusion is that it was planted there for the benefit of you gents of the fuzz. Somebody doesn’t care for Brother Marco, either.”
    â€œYes, sir, you just hit a couple of nails,” his father said. “Turning what looked at first like a nice clean clue against Marco into a dirty frame-up of Marco. See? Simple into not so simple.”
    Ellery scowled. He picked the button up by its rim and turned it over. The relief design on its face formed a conventional frame of crossed anchors and hawsers, with the initials MI in an elaborate intertwine engraved within the frame.
    He set the button down and turned to the technical man. “Was a cast made from the shoeprint, sergeant? I’d like to see it.”
    Voytershack shook his grizzled head. “Didn’t the Inspector describe it to you?”
    â€œDidn’t tell him a bloody thing about it,” the old man said. “I don’t want to influence his impressions.”
    The sergeant handed Ellery a number of photographs. They were largely close-ups, from various angles, of the same object,