Queen’s Bureau of Investigation Read Online Free PDF

has an alibi of granite. Therefore—”
    â€œAnother spoonerism!” exclaimed Professor Gorman.
    â€œI’m afraid so. And since the only spoonerism possible from the name ‘Gorman’ is ‘Morgan,’ hunt up Mr. Morgan Naseby of the underpaid English department, Dad, and you’ll have Doc’s assailant and his ten grand back, too.”
    Later, at Bellevue Hospital, an indestructible Elizabethan scholar squeezed the younger Queen’s hand feebly. Conversation was forbidden, but the good pedagogue and spoonerist extraordinary did manage to whisper, “My queer Dean …”

MURDER DEPT.
    Driver’s Seat

There were four Brothers brothers until Big Dave died. And then there were three, and that was a bad day for all of them. With Big Dave in the driver’s seat there had never been any question of where they were going. The withdrawal of his guiding arm left Archibald, Everett, and Charlton Brothers steering with their noses. They were bound to land in a ditch sooner or later. Big Dave’s widow saw to it that it was sooner.…
    But that is the story.
    It was the afternoon of the semiannual board meeting of The Four Brothers Mining Company. The widow had inherited her husband’s quarter holdings in the closed corporation, so now—for the fourth consecutive time—she occupied Big Dave’s big chair. And she almost filled it. She was a large young woman with long legs and very blonde hair in albuminous swirls, and her figure was as rich and ornamented as a French pastry.
    The three brothers did not mind her presence; it gave a fillip to what had always been a tedious necessity. Or, at least, Archibald and Everett did not mind; about Charlton it was difficult to say, for he had the mummified exterior and dyspeptic potential of a hot pepper drying on a wall. But Archibald was like a hairless Santa Claus, leanly ruddy and roaring, the nearly visible pack on his back crammed with long-legged blonde memories; and he amused himself by tossing his gusty gifts at Daisy Brothers across the board table as if she were his wife’s upstairs maid and his wife were at Newport. Everett toyed with the widow typically, in smiling silence; he was a mouth-smiler, this Everett Brothers, with cold gray skin and blunt eyes.
    But the widow paid no attention to either Archibald or Everett; she did not even appear to be listening to the crabby nose tones of Charlton, who was presiding.
    Until Charlton snapped, “If there’s no further new business, I’ll entertain a motion—”
    Then Daisy Brothers looked away from the oil painting of Big Dave above Charlton’s skimpy hair, and she said: “But there is.”
    Archibald stopped frisking, Everett’s smile took on an edge of interest, Charlton raised his sandpapery brows almost audibly. They looked at one another as if the polished table had given tongue; and then they looked at her.
    â€œThe Four Brothers Mining Company was organized with one hundred shares of stock divided into four equal blocks,” said Big Dave’s widow. “That is, each of you and Dave put up $25,000 for twenty-five shares. Today the corporation’s holdings are worth a hundred times the original investment.”
    â€œHear, hear,” roared Archibald.
    â€œYes, yes, Daisy,” grunted Charlton, beginning to rise.
    But Everett, still smiling, put his hand on his desiccated brother’s arm.
    â€œSince Dave’s death,” continued the young widow, “you three lads have gone haywire. My irresistible brother-in-law Archibald here, for instance, he’s been taken to the cleaners by a big parade of cuties. Everett, you’ve gone over your wise-guy head in hock to the bookies and gamblers. And Charlton, you’ve got a headache to bellyache about for a change; without Dave to tell you what to do, you’ve lost your shirt in the stock market. And in the meantime your wives have kept