Halfway House Read Online Free PDF Page B

script: ‘ To Bill , from Lucy and Joe .’
    “Your birthday soon, Angell?” asked De Jong genially, squinting at a piece of paper from the dead man’s breast-pocket.
    Bill turned away, his mouth working. “Tomorrow.”
    “Damned considerate brother-in-law,” grinned the chief. “That’s his fist, too, on the card, so there’s no question about that . One of the boys checked it with a sample of Wilson’s handwriting from his clothes. See for yourself, Mr. Queen.” He tossed to the table the paper he had been holding, a meaningless and unimportant scrawl.
    “Oh, I believe you.” Ellery was frowning at the writing-set.
    “Seems to interest you,” said De Jong, piling up a number of miscellaneous articles on the table. “Lord knows why! But I’m always ready to learn a new trick. See anything there that escaped me?”
    “Since I’ve never had the pleasure of watching you work, De Jong,” murmured Ellery, “I’m scarcely in a position to gauge the extent or accuracy of your observations. But there are certain minutiæ of at least hypothetical interest.”
    “You don’t say?” De Jong was amused.
    Ellery picked up the wrappings of the package. “For one thing, this desk-set was purchased in Wanamaker’s in Philadelphia. That, I confess, means little. But… it’s a fact; and facts, as Ellis Parker Butler might have said, is facts.”
    “Now, how’d you know that?” De Jong fingered a sales slip from the pile of articles on the table. “Found it in his pocket, all crumpled. He bought it in Wanamaker’s yesterday, all right. It was a cash sale.”
    “How? By no startling means. I recognized the Wanamaker wrapping-paper, because I bought a little gift for my father there only this afternoon in passing through Philadelphia. And of course,” continued Ellery mildly, “you’ve noticed the condition of the paper. The question arises: Who undid the package?”
    “I don’t know why it should arise,” said De Jong, “but I’ll bite. Who did the foul deed?”
    “I should say anyone but poor Wilson. Bill, did you touch anything in this room before I got here tonight?”
    “No.”
    “None of your men opened this package, De Jong?”
    “It was found just the way you saw it, on the mantel.”
    “The probability is, then, that it was opened by the murderess—the ‘veiled woman’ Wilson told Bill about before he died. Probability only; of course it may have been done by still a second intruder. But certainly it wasn’t opened by Wilson.”
    “Why not?”
    “This writing-set was purchased as a gift—witness the card. It was wrapped as a gift—the price-tag has been removed, and the sales slip is in Wilson’s pocket rather than in the package. Therefore whoever bought it did so with the preconceived idea of presenting it to Bill Angell. The chances are Wilson bought it in person; but even if he didn’t and delegated someone else to buy it for him, the inspiration would have emanated from him. This being the case, Wilson could have had little reason for opening the package here.”
    “I don’t see that,” argued the big man. “Suppose he didn’t write this gift-card in the store—suppose he opened the package here to get one of these pens to write the card with.”
    “There’s no ink in either pen, as I’ve already ascertained,” said Ellery patiently. “Of course, he would know that. But even if I grant that he might have had some other reason for opening the package here, he certainly could have had no reason, as donor of the gift, to destroy the wrappings!” Ellery flicked his thumb at the paper: it had been ruthlessly ripped from the writing-set. “Those wrappings could scarcely be used again for their original purpose; and there are no other wrapping materials on the premises. So I say, Wilson at least didn’t open the package; for, if he had, he would have been careful not to tear the paper. The murderess, on the other hand, would have been deterred by no such