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Authors: Ellery Queen

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BOOK: The Finishing Stroke
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‘Looks like a child's drawing of a picket fence. What does it mean?'

‘I wish I knew.'

‘Violence,' Arthur Craig said heavily. ‘It uses the word violence. This is the first time there's been a suggestion of … of anything like that.'

‘Except the corpse in your library, Mr. Craig,' Ellery said, not without irony.

‘Yes, but this is directed against
John
.'

Rusty giggled, ‘I think I'm going to upchuck,' and she ran out of the room and up the stairs. Dr. Dark followed hurriedly, clutching his glass. Olivette Brown ran after him. Val Warren rose, too, but at Ellery's glance she sank back.

Ellery stared down at the toy house, with its latest addition. ‘Luria's experiment didn't prove a thing, and this development only emphasizes its futility. If some unknown is hiding in the house, he could have placed this fourth box on John's bed upstairs after we were all immobilized down here by the lieutenant. Or, if the gift-giver is one of us, as Luria seems to think, he could have suspected Luria's intentions this afternoon after returning from Alderwood Pond and slipped the box into John's room before coming downstairs. You'll recall John was one of the first down.'

Ellery shook his head. ‘As far as I'm concerned, I'm through trying to balk the deliverer of these things. The odds on his being able to leave a small box somewhere about the house are too one-sided. From now on, all I'm interested in is the contents. To date we've had seven objects in four units. There's a pattern here somewhere. So far I don't see it. With more objects to go on, maybe I will.'

Craig asked in a rumble, ‘You're convinced this isn't a practical joke, Mr. Queen?'

‘Yes.'

‘Then I can't tell you how glad I am that you're here.' The bearded man sank into a chair. ‘If you can possibly see what it all means … before it's too late …'

‘Go to bed, Arthur,' Dan Freeman said gently.

Ellery said, ‘I suggest we all do.'

They left Marius, still snoring, in the living room.

7 Fifth Night:
Sunday, December 29, 1929

In Which Capricornus Sprouts Four Horns, X Marks the Spot, and Divers Explorations into the Applicability of Twelves Come to Nought

Luria walked in while they were at breakfast, spoiling it. One glance at his overcrowding brows, and Ellery knew that the lieutenant was in no mood for Christmas boxes this morning.

‘I'll be wanting you one at a time in the library,' Luria announced without preliminary. ‘Where's Gardiner?'

Craig said, ‘In town, at church.'

‘He's included when he gets back.'

He went at them from behind the library desk all morning in a one-man Star Chamber proceeding, making notes in a fat notebook. Ellery hung back until last, then discovered that nothing new had been added – Luria was merely exercising the Hobson's choice of all policemen and going over the same old ground … they had never seen the dead man before? – and where and when exactly were you on Thursday morning last?
et cetera ad nauseam.

When Lieutenant Luria slapped his notebook shut and rose, Ellery said, ‘And by the bye, just after you left last night, John Sebastian found the fourth gift box in his bedroom.'

Luria sat down again. And rose again. ‘Never mind!' Then he said, ‘What was in it?'

‘A little white picket fence – cutest thing you ever saw – and an implied promise of violence to come.'

‘It's the bunk. You know you're all nuttier than fruitcakes? I've got to be going.'

‘Wait a minute, Lieutenant. What about the dead man?'

‘A big nothing. We haven't had a nibble from B.I.s anywhere on his mug, his description, his prints; and my hunch is he had no record. He certainly doesn't come from anywhere in this vicinity, as much as we've been able to check so far. So how do I like it? I'm crazy about it!'

Shortly after lunch there was a phone call from New York for Ellery. He took it in the library behind a closed door.

‘Inspector Queen reporting,' Inspector Queen reported. ‘How do you want your astrology, Mr. Queen – straight or around the bush?'

‘Straight always,' Mr. Queen said grittily.

‘You said this Rusty Brown number designed eight men's money clips and four ladies' brooches, each with a different sign of the zodiac?'

‘That's what I said.'

‘Your arithmetic is wrong. Eight and four make twelve, or did when I went to school. The only thing is, Moylan's say they made up
thirteen
pieces.' When there was silence at the other end of the wire, the Inspector said, ‘Ellery? You drop dead or something?'

‘I'm recovering from a heart attack,' Ellery said in a faint voice. ‘Made up thirteen, you say? On order, of course. Not by mistake.'

‘Sure on order. Moylan's don't make mistakes.'

‘And tell me this,' Ellery said, his voice growing steadily stronger. ‘The thirteenth piece was not an unrelated design? It was also a sign of the zodiac – a duplicate of one of the twelve, in fact?'

‘Yes. It was –'

‘Hold, sire. Let me guess. The duplicate pieces were in the form of goats? Capricornus, that would be. Two money clips for Capricorn. How am I doing?'

‘Colossal,' his father said, genuinely astonished. ‘How did you know, son?'

‘You know my methods,' Ellery said modestly. ‘Oh, well, I have no secrets from you. John Sebastian's birthday is January sixth. January sixth comes under the Sign of the Goat.'

‘Oh? But how did you know it was a duplicate of Sebastian's?'

‘That's a fascinating yarn I won't go into over the phone. Dad, I have another job for you. Dad? You there?'

‘I'm here,' Inspector Queen said glumly. ‘I sometimes wonder why I don't send you a monthly bill. What is it this time?'

‘Have you a good man you can spare for a couple of days' confidential legwork? Like Sergeant Velie, for instance?'

‘Ask for my right arm! All
right.
What do you want Velie to do?'

‘I want him to dig into the circumstances surrounding John Sebastian's birth.'

‘His
birth
?'

‘You hear me. All I know about it is this: John's parents were Mr. and Mrs. John Sebastian of Rye, New York. Mrs. Sebastian's Christian name was Claire. On the evening of January fifth, Nineteen-O-Five – are you taking this down, Dad?'

‘Yes, sir,' the Inspector sighed. ‘Nineteen-O-Five.'

“The Sebastians were driving back from New York City in a snowstorm. Near Mount Kidron they had a smashup. That's Mount Kidron. As a result of the accident Mrs. Sebastian went into premature labour and gave birth. She died in childbirth, John's father dying about a week later because of his injuries. That's all I know. I want to know more about that accident and
accouchement
– lots more.'

Ellery found Rusty behind the house. John was watching Valentina, Marius and Ellen compete in a snowman-building contest. Rusty was watching John, who did not look as if he was enjoying himself.

Ellen yelled to Ellery. He merely smiled and waved and said to John, ‘May I borrow your fiancée for a couple of minutes?'

‘If you don't try to talk her out of marrying me. By the way, are you in love with her, too?'

‘Madly,' Ellery said, and walked Rusty aside. Ellen's pink cheeks turned carmine, and when Marius said something to her she grabbed two handfuls of snow and leaped on him.

‘I don't know why you want me,' Rusty said, ‘when I'm not available and Ellen is.'

‘Because Ellen can't answer the question I want to ask,' Ellery smiled, ‘and you can.'

‘What question?'

‘How come you didn't mention the thirteenth zodiac gift, Rusty?'

‘Oh, that,' Rusty said. ‘Didn't I?'

Ellery said gently, ‘No, you didn't.'

‘Well, I ordered it all right. The thirteenth was a duplicate of John's.'

‘And why did you order a duplicate of John's?'

‘Because John asked me to. Any further questions, Mr. Queen?'

‘One. Why did John want two Capricorn money clips?'

‘I could say that it's probably because he's coming into so much money January sixth he'll need two, but that would be a guess.' Rusty was very cool about the whole thing. ‘The fact is, Ellery, I don't really know why.'

‘And you didn't ask?'

‘Of course I asked.'

‘And what was John's explanation?'

‘He laughed and kissed me and said we weren't married
yet.
Why don't you ask him yourself?'

‘At risk of being kissed,' Ellery said, ‘I believe I will.'

His mock gravity concealed a real grimness. But Ellery did not let it show when he took John aside.

‘What about it, Johnnykins?' he asked. ‘Why the duplicate goat design?'

‘How did you find out?' John asked sharply. ‘Has Rusty been talking?'

‘No. She merely confirmed what I already knew.'

John said in an unhappy way, ‘You've been checking up on me.'

‘Only in idle pursuit of a notion. Why, John? Do you mind being checked up on?'

‘I think I do,' John said slowly.

‘Look, friend. A murder's been committed in this house –'

‘Good God,' the young poet cried, ‘are you suggesting that I had anything to do with that? Ellery, I'm as much at sea about that old man and how he got himself killed on these premises as you are!'

‘Then why don't you tell me about the duplicate clip?'

John said coolly, ‘Because I don't choose to just yet. Any other questions?'

‘I think not.'

Ellery lingered for a moment. John rejoined the group, said something to Rusty, got a delighted kiss in response and, at once, with her enthusiastic assistance, he began to build a snowman.

Ellery strolled back to the house. The instant he was out of their view his stride briskened. He entered the house quietly, ran into old Mr. Gardiner and Olivette Brown, murmured something about lying down for a nap, trudged upstairs … and swiftly let himself into John's bedroom.

It was an immense room with a sweep of bay windows, its own fireplace, an oversize bed, and two enormous walk-in closets. The walls were busy with old college banners and a miscellany of teenage accumulations – signs saying
STOP, NO PARKING
and
KEEP OFF THE GRASS
, crossed fencing foils speckled with rust, a moth-eaten raccoon tail, some French travel posters and a great many other tidbits of John's salad days.

Ellery went directly to the nearest closet and opened the door.

He stood there for some time, staring.

Then he opened the other closet.

He was still standing transfixed when an icy voice said behind him, ‘I've always equated snoops with Peeping Toms, cockroaches and other vermin. Just what do you think you're doing?'

‘Similar insensitive remarks have been made about John S. Sumner, Bishop Cannon, and Canon Chase,' Ellery said without stirring. ‘One man's snoop is another man's crusader. I'm on the trail of truth as I see it, with no appreciable help from you.' He turned around. ‘Still, I owe you an apology, John, which I hereby tender. Now will you tell me why every suit, coat, sports outfit, hat, sweater, pair of shoes and so forth in these closets has an exact duplicate hanging or standing immediately next to it?'

Surprisingly, John's handsome mouth lifted in a grin. ‘You mean to say you guess that simply because I had two matching money clips made up by Moylan's?'

Ellery looked pained. ‘Guess is a dirty word in my dictionary. No, I had a bit more than that to go on, John. But you haven't answered my question.'

The grin widened. ‘It probably won't make sense to you. I've always been hipped on clothes, and since I'm hard on them I've got into the habit of buying everything
en double
. I know it's mad. But what's the advantage of being a poet if you can't indulge a whimsy or two?'

‘As simple as that, eh?' Ellery murmured.

‘As simple as that. Here, I'll show you.' John began to yank bureau drawers open. ‘Duplicate shirts, handkerchiefs, tie clasps, belts, suspenders, socks –'

‘Even monograms.' Ellery fingered two identical neckties monogrammed
JS.

‘The madness extends to identical wallets, signet rings, cigarette cases … Are you going to call for an alienist?'

‘For such a methsodical madness?' Ellery shook his head, smiling.

John seemed amused, too. ‘You don't believe me.'

‘Well, you remember what Oscar Wilde said: Man can believe the impossible, but never the improbable.'

‘I agree. For instance, I'd never have believed the improbability that you'd come pussyfooting into my room like the celebrated thief in the night.'

‘I said that's what Oscar Wilde said. Personally, I not only can but frequently do believe the improbable. All I require is that the facts point to no other conclusion.'

‘And the facts in this case point to some other conclusion?'

‘Those that I have at the moment,' Ellery said, ‘– yes.'

Their smiles crossed, and then Ellery left.

It was Ellery who found the night's gift.

It was during Major Bowes's ‘Capitol Family' broadcast after dinner. Ellery found that he had run out of pipe tobacco. He went up to his room to refill his pouch, and there on his bed lay a Christmas box, gay with its telltale green and red metallic paper and gilt ribbon and typed Santa Claus tag.

It was a rather larger box than the last two had been. He took it downstairs carefully.

‘Number five,' he said.

Craig hastily turned the radio off.

Ellery took the box to the refectory table. In silence they ranged themselves about the table. He stripped the wrappings away, revealing the usual plain white box. Inside lay some object swathed in red tissue, and on the red tissue a white card:

And when he removed the tissue, a hand it was – a man's hand in plaster, bony, almost emaciated, with the fingers curling slightly and the thumb stuck out in supplication or surrender. On the white plaster of the exposed palm the sardonic sender had used a black pencil with a soft lead. Etched into the palm was an X.

‘There's no misunderstanding what he means this time, is there?' John said with a short laugh. He turned to the liquor cabinet automatically.

‘Rusty,' Ellery said. ‘Would you say this is a life cast?'

‘No.' Rusty's disturbed glance was on John. ‘It looks more to me like an art class model for anatomy study. You can buy things like this in any art supply store.'

‘X marks the spot,' Arthur Craig mumbled. ‘But why a hand?'

‘Palmistry,' Mrs. Brown said suddenly. ‘The palm – the lifeline – X cutting the lifeline …'

‘Shall I slit my throat and end the suspense?' John asked with the same odd laugh.

‘I think we can do without the bad jokes, John,' his bearded guardian said snappishly. ‘Mr. Queen, does this make any more sense to you than any of the other things?'

BOOK: The Finishing Stroke
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