Inspector Queen’s Own Case by Ellery Queen Read Free Book Online

Richard Queen said thoughtfully. “And Frost was tanked up when he left, you say?”
    â€œWell, he’d had quite a bit to drink.”
    â€œHe was nursing a beaut of a hangover this morning, and there was an empty bourbon bottle on his bureau. So he must have worked himself up to a real charge by late last night. Could be …”
    â€œYou saw him?” Jessie exclaimed.
    â€œI dropped over to his place in Old Greenwich. Sort of as a favor to Abe Pearl.”
    â€œWhat did Frost say? Tell me!”
    â€œHe said he came straight home last night and went to bed. He lives alone, so no one saw him. In other words, no alibi.”
    â€œBut did he actually deny having driven back here?”
    â€œWould you expect him to admit it?” She knew he was smiling in the darkness. “Anyway, he’s had a good scare—I’ll guarantee that. If Frost was the man who tried to climb in through that window, I don’t think he’ll try it again.”
    â€œBut what could he have been thinking of?” Jessie shivered.
    â€œDrunks don’t make much sense.”
    â€œYou think … ransom? He told Mr. Humffrey he was badly in debt.”
    â€œI don’t think anything,” the Inspector said. “Whoever it was wore gloves—there wasn’t an unaccounted-for print anywhere in the nursery or shed, and smudges were evident on the ladder. We have nothing on Frost but a questionable identification by Peterson. Even if we had, I doubt if Mr. Humffrey would press a charge, from the way he talked to Abe Pearl on the phone today. The best thing for you to do is forget last night ever happened, young lady.”
    â€œThank you.” Jessie felt herself dimpling, and it made her add tartly, “Young lady!”
    He seemed surprised. “But you are young. Some people never age. My mother was one of them. You’re very much like her—” He stopped. Then he said, “This is it, isn’t it? It’s so blasted dark——”
    â€œYes.” Jessie hoped fiercely that the guard from the Bridgeport detective agency would have the decency to remain behind his bush and keep his finger off the flashlight button. “You were saying, Mr. Queen?”
    â€œIt wasn’t anything.”
    There was a silence.
    â€œWell,” Jessie said. “I must say you’ve relieved my mind, Inspector. And thanks for walking me back.”
    â€œIt was my pleasure.” But from the way he said it, it sounded more like a sadness. “Well, good night, Miss Sherwood.”
    â€œGood night,” Jessie said emptily.
    She was standing there in the dark, listening to his footfalls retreat and wondering if she would ever see him again, when the light suddenly blinded her.
    â€œWho was that with you, Miss Sherwood?” the private detective said.
    â€œOh, go away, you—you beagle!” Nurse Sherwood said, and she ran up the driveway as if someone were after her.
    So that seemed the end of a promising friendship. The weeks went by, and although during little Michael’s nap times on the Humffrey beach Jessie kept glancing up at passing small craft, or on her Thursdays off found herself scanning the crowds on Front Street or the Taugus public beach, she did not catch even a glimpse of that wiry figure again.
    What children men are! she thought angrily.
    If not for the baby, she would have given notice and quit Nair Island. She was desperately lonely. But little Michael needed her, she kept telling herself, trying not to feel the old jealous twinge when Mrs. Humffrey took him from her arms and exercised her proprietary rights.
    Sometimes Jessie thought she ought to leave for the baby’s sake, before he became too attached to her. But she kept putting it off. In the gloom that had suddenly set in, he was the only sunny thing. Besides, she told herself, there was always that disturbing incident of the night of July 4th. Suppose the attempt