The Origin of Evil by Ellery Queen Read Free Book Online

its character it transformed a suburban section of ordinary Southern California canyon into a wild Scottish glen. Laurel told Ellery that the Priam property extended up and along the hill for four or five acres and that it was all like the area about the house.
    â€˜Jungle,’ said Ellery as Laurel parked the car in the driveway. There was no sign of the cream Cadillac.
    â€˜Well, he’s a wild animal. Like the deer you flush occasionally up behind the Bowl.’
    â€˜He’s paying for the privilege. His electric bills must be enormous.’
    â€˜I’m sure they are. There isn’t a sunny room in the house. When he wants — you can’t say more light — when he wants less gloom, and air that isn’t so stale, he wheels himself out on that terrace there.’ To one side of the house there was a large terrace, half of it screened and roofed, the other open not to the sky but to a high arch of bare gum eucalyptus leaves and branches which the sun did not penetrate. ‘His den — den is the word — is directly off the terrace, past those French and screen doors. We’d better go in the front way; Roger doesn’t like people barging in on his sacred preserves. In the Priam house you’re announced.’
    â€˜Doesn’t Delia Priam have anything to say about the way her house is run?’
    â€˜Who said it’s her house?’ said Laurel.
    A uniformed maid with a tic admitted them. ‘Oh, Miss Hill,’ she said nervously. ‘I don’t think Mr. Priam … He’s dictatin’ to Mr. Wallace. I better not …’
    â€˜Is Mrs. Priam in, Muggs?’
    â€˜She just got in from shoppin’, Miss Hill. She’s upstairs in her room. Said she was tired and was not to be disturbed.’
    â€˜Poor Delia,’ said Laurel calmly. ‘I know Mr. Queen is terribly disappointed. Tell Mr. Priam I want to see him.’
    â€˜But, Miss Hill —’
    A muffled roar of rage stopped her instantly. She glanced over her shoulder in a panic.
    â€˜It’s all right, Muggsy. I’ll take the rap. Vamos , Ellery.’
    â€˜I wonder why she —’ Ellery began in a mumble as Laurel led him up the hall.
    â€˜Yours not to, where Delia is concerned.’
    The house was even grimmer than he had expected. They passed shrouded rooms with dark panelling, heavy and humourless drapes, massive uncomfortable-looking furniture. It was a house for secrets and for violence.
    The roar was a bass snarl now. ‘I don’t give a damn what Mr. Hill wanted to do about the Newman-Arco account, Foss! Mr. Hill ’s locked in a drawer in Forest Lawn and he ain’t in any condition to give us the benefit of his advice … No, I won’t wait a minute, Foss! I’m running this — business, and you’ll either handle things my way or get the hell out!’
    Laurel’s lips thinned. She raised her fist and hammered on the door.
    â€˜Whoever that is, Alfred —! Foss, you still there?’
    A man opened the heavy door and slipped into the hall, pulling the door to and keeping his hand on the knob behind him.
    â€˜You picked a fine time, Laurel. He’s on the phone to the office.’
    â€˜So I hear,’ said Laurel. ‘Mr. Queen, Mr. Wallace. His other name ought to be Job, but it’s Alfred. The perfect man, I call him. Super-efficient. Discreet as all get-out. Never slips. One side, Alfred. I’ve got business with my partner.’
    â€˜Better let me set him up,’ said Wallace with a smile. As he slipped back into the room, his eyes flicked over Ellery. Then the door was shut again, and Ellery waved his right hand tenderly. It still tingled from Wallace’s grip.
    â€˜Surprised?’ murmured Laurel.
    Ellery was. He had expected a Milquetoast character. Instead Alfred Wallace was a towering, powerfully assembled man with even, rather sharp features, thick white hair, a tan, and an air