Face to Face by Ellery Queen Read Free Book Online Page B

I’m more of a Handel-Mendelssohn-choral-society-oratorio bloke myself.”
    â€œHeredity,” Ellery mumbled.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œIt apparently runs in the blood. That must have pleased Glory no end. Has the girl broken in anywhere?”
    â€œYes. She managed to get a few wireless commercial jobs. It encouraged her to quit her situation and try to earn her living singing full time. She’s had a few third-class nightclub dates—barely scrapes along, from what I gather. She’s an independent sort—no complaints, stiff upper lip, smiling through, that sort of bilge. I couldn’t help but admire her grit, though.”
    â€œWhy did she come to the United States?”
    â€œReally, Ellery. Isn’t this where the pounds and pence are? Look at the Beatles.” (“You look at them,” said Ellery. “No, thanks,” said Burke.) “She’s a most practical young woman.”
    â€œThen it wasn’t to look up her famous aunt?”
    â€œHeavens, no! She means to do it on her own.”
    â€œDidn’t she make any attempt at all to find her mother’s only sister?”
    â€œShe told me she had no idea where Glory Guild was living. It might have been in Pago-Pago, for all she knew. No, this was all apparently coincidence.”
    â€œNot so coincidental. Where else would a Glory Guild live? And where else would a stagestruck girl come? Were you present when they were reunited?”
    â€œOh, yes. But getting them together took a bit of doing. I told Lorette why I’d been hunting for her, and I found myself with another job on my hands—I mean persuading her to visit Mrs. Armando.”
    â€œWhen did all this take place?”
    â€œI didn’t actually locate Lorette until late afternoon of the thirtieth—Wednesday. Took her to dinner and spent most of the evening talking her into coming with me. She has no particular feeling for her aunt—the woman was just a name to her as a child, and when her father and mother died—what with Glory’s silence—even the name faded out after a bit. She was very young, you know, when she had to go into the orphanage.”
    â€œBitter?”
    â€œI beg your pardon?”
    â€œDid Lorette seem bitter at her aunt’s neglect?”
    â€œNot at all. She’s a quite remarkable young person, this Spanier girl. She said she couldn’t imagine why her aunt wanted to find her after all these years. All she wanted was to be let alone to make her own way. As I say, it took me the entire evening to talk her into accompanying me. The fact was, I didn’t know why Mrs. Armando wanted to see her so suddenly, either, so I had to muster some remarkable arguments.”
    Ellery laughed. “So that’s what you and dad were being cozy about.” Then he stopped laughing. “Just when did you and the girl get to Glory’s apartment Wednesday night, Harry?”
    â€œAbout a quarter to eleven.” Burke’s pipe had gone out, and he looked around the cab for a place to deposit the dottle. But the ashtray was missing, and he stuffed the whole thing in his pocket. “It was awkward. Lorette was no help at all; after all, the woman was a total stranger to her. And Mrs. Armando made a bad job of explaining to the girl why she had never looked for her before, such a bad job that I decided I was in the way, and left. My assignment was finished, anyway. Mrs. Armando saw me to the door—gave me my check, by the way; I’d of course phoned her we were coming, and she had the check ready for me—and I was out of there, as I’ve told you, at 11:05 or so. Went to the airport, took off at 1:00 A.M .—and turned around and flew back, as you know, when Inspector Queen cabled me to return.”
    â€œThen you left the Spanier girl alone with Glory,” Ellery said abruptly. “And Glory was shot at 11:50.”
    â€œI understand Lorette says she left,