Queen’s Bureau of Investigation by Ellery Queen Read Free Book Online Page B

“Me?” And then he looked scared, and he said in a weak voice, “I want to see the Warden.”
    The Warden came at once; he was a kindly man who wished his rough flock well, but he had been waiting for this moment for over five years. “Yes, Mullane?” the Warden said.
    â€œAbout that sixty-two grand,” whispered Philly.
    â€œYes, Mullane?” the Warden said.
    â€œI never been a boy scout, God knows—”
    â€œYes, He does,” said the Warden.
    â€œThat’s what I mean, Warden. I mean, I figure I can’t take it with me, and maybe I can cut down on that book He’s keeping on me upstairs. I guess I better tell you where I stashed that dough. The doc tells me I’m going to die—”
    But the prison doctor was young and full of Truth and other ideals, and he interrupted indignantly, “ I said eventually . Not now, Mullane! You may not get another attack for years.”
    â€œOh?” said Philly in a remarkably strong voice. “Then what am I worried about?” And he grinned at the Warden and turned his face to the wall.
    The Warden could have kicked both of them.
    So everybody settled back to more waiting.
    What they were waiting for was Mullane’s release. They had plenty of time—the law, Patience, the Waiter, and Mullane most of all. Having behaved themselves as guests of the state, Patience and Mikie got out in something over seven years, and they went their respective ways. Mullane’s silence stuck him for the limit.
    The day he was released the Warden said to him, “Mullane, you’ll never get away with that money. And even if you should, nobody ever gets anything out of money that doesn’t belong to him.”
    â€œI figure I’ve earned it, Warden,” said Philly Mullane with a crooked smile. “At that, it only comes to a measly sixty-two hundred a year.”
    â€œWhat about your heart?”
    â€œAh, that doc was from hunger.”
    Of course, they put a twenty-four hour tail on him. And they lost him. Two headquarters detectives were demoted because of it. When he was found ten days later he had been dead about fifteen minutes.
    A long memory and a smart bit of skull work on the part of one of the Hotel Chancellor’s house dicks, Blauvelt, were responsible for the quick discovery of the body. Blauvelt had been on a two-week vacation. When he returned to duty, the hotel staff was yakking about a guest named Worth who had checked in nine days before and had not left his room since. The only ones who had seen him were the room service people—he had all his meals served in his room—the chambermaid, and a few bellboys. They reported that he kept his door not only locked day and night, but on the chain. The room was 913, and a desk clerk recalled that Worth had insisted on that room and no other.
    â€œI only came on the job this morning, so I haven’t been able to get a look at him,” Blauvelt said over the phone to police headquarters, “but from what they tell me, except for a change in the color of his hair and a couple inches in height, which could be elevators, he answers the description. Inspector, if this Worth ain’t Philly Mullane hiding out I’ll get me a job in the Sanitation Department.”
    â€œNice going, Blauvelt. We’ll be right over.” Inspector Queen hung up and said admiringly, “Same hotel, same room. You’ve got to hand it to him—” But then he stopped.
    â€œExactly,” said Ellery, who had been listening on the extension. He remembered the case as one of his father’s pet bogies. “It’s too smart. Unless that’s where he hid the money in the first place.”
    â€œBut Ellery, that room at the Chancellor was searched when we grabbed Mullane off ten years ago!”
    â€œNot the super de luxe type search I recommend in such cases,” mourned Ellery. “Remember how cleverly Mullane led you