The Mystery of the Merry Magician
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Authors: Ellery Queen Jr.
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Ellery Queen Jr.
11.
THE MAN WHO WALKED ON WATER
PREVIEW:
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W
HEN
Ellery Queen opened the door and walked into his apartment, his nephew was sprawled on the floor, hidden by a tall-backed easy chair. The boy was so absorbed by the book—one of the many mysteries written by Ellery Queen—that he did not hear the door open.
“Gully?” the private detective called out. “Gully? Where are you?”
“Here, Uncle Ellery.”
A boy of sixteen, tall for his age, untangled his lanky figure and stood up. His blond hair, cut short, was so light that the sun streaming in through the window made it look almost white.
“I’ve bad news, Gully.”
“What’s the matter?” A worried expression flicked over the boy’s handsome face.
“I have to go away. Taking the afternoon plane for New Orleans.”
Gully was disappointed. “You’re going away … without me?”
“I must, Gully.” Ellery Queen walked past the boy and entered his bedroom.
Gully followed him slowly. “But why, Uncle Ellery?”
“It’s a government case. I’ve been asked to help and, of course, I can’t refuse. Besides,” the famous detective added with a chuckle, “it’s the kind of mystery I can’t resist.”
“What’s it about?”
“There’s very little I can tell you. Something weird is taking place on the New Orleans waterfront. No real clues, just crazy rumors and reports of strange creatures haunting the docks down there, people being frightened at night, that sort of thing. No crime that the government knows of, no motive. But the Treasury Department is worried. My job will be to try to find out what’s going on.”
While he talked, Ellery brought a small suitcase out of the closet and packed some clothes into it.
“What about
our
trip?”
“Has to be postponed.”
Disappointment showed on the boy’s face. He stood in the middle of the room, his hands thrust deep into his pockets, and stared silently at his uncle.
All winter long Gully had been looking forward to the summer vacation with his famous uncle. They had planned to spend a week camping and fishing through the Adirondack mountain region. Now, abruptly, the trip was to be postponed.
“How long will you be gone, Uncle Ellery?”
“Only four or five days.”
“
Only!
” Gully could not keep the dismay out of his voice. “Gosh! That’s almost a whole week.”
For the first time since he had arrived in New York City—and that was two days ago—Gulliver Queen felt lonely and miserable. His father, an engineer, was in Europe working on a long-term United Nations project. Gully’s mother had gone with her husband.
But Gully had to continue with school. So arrangements were made for him to live with his grandfather, Inspector Richard Queen of the New York Police Department, and with his Uncle Ellery.
For Gully the separation from his parents was made up for a little by the promise of excitement and adventure living with Ellery Queen. Now, the first of the adventures—a camping trip to the mountains—was being postponed, and Gully found himself facing dull days of waiting.
“A few days,” Ellery Queen said, “are not such a long time. And you know we agreed that if anything important turned up, we’d have to postpone our vacation.”
“I know, Uncle Ellery. I guess it won’t be too bad. There are lots of things to see and do in New York.”
Gully tried to be cheerful about it, hiding his real feelings. But Ellery Queen was a shrewd observer. He said suddenly, “But there’s something you can do for me while I’m away.”
Gully looked up, instantly curious.
Ellery picked up his suitcase and headed for his study. Dropping the bag at the door he went to his desk and from a drawer pulled out a small leather notebook.
“Take this, Gully,” he said, handing it to the boy. “My secretary, Nikki Porter, is coming with me. My telephone-answering service will take any messages phoned in. But sometimes people phone or come here to the apartment to see me …”
“People in trouble?” Gully asked eagerly. “People who want to hire you as a detective?”
“Yes. The police are usually in a better position to help these people than I am. But I try to keep a record of the visits. You never can tell when an interesting case might crop up.”
“You want me to see the people—sort of interview them?”
Ellery Queen smiled. “Well, let’s say you’ll be acting as my assistant. Use the notebook to write down their names and addresses. You might also jot down what they look like and how they behave.”
“If they’re nervous or worried?”
“Exactly. And keep a careful record of what they tell you. Get down all the facts you can. When I come back, I’ll go over the notebook and decide whether to look into the case or not.”
“Yes, sir!”
“And remember, Gully, don’t go off trying to solve any mysteries. Just write down the facts, all the facts.”
“And
only
the facts! I know.” Gully was feeling a lot more chipper than he had a few minutes before.
“Right. You’ll do it for me?”
“Of course!” Gully said proudly. “Gosh! Your assistant.”
“I’m depending on you. In the meantime, Mrs. Butterly will take care of you here at home.” Mrs. Butterly was the Queens’ housekeeper, a conscientious and motherly woman.
Gully opened the notebook and looked at the blank white sheets, wondering what he was going to write on them, and how soon.
“I’ve got to hurry now. Take care of yourself.”
Ellery Queen gave the boy a quick hug around the shoulders, picked up his suitcase and left. Gully remained standing in the middle of the room. A quarter of an hour later Mrs. Butterly, coming in to dust, found the boy still standing there, daydreaming.
“Now, young man,” she exclaimed. “I don’t want you moping around the house. Not on a beautiful day like today.”
She was a short dumpy woman well past middle age. But she moved about with a bustling, nervous energy.
“Where should I go?”
“Have you been to the zoo?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Hah! Just like a born New Yorker. People live here all their lives and never see the sights of the City. Central Park’s just across the way. Got one of the finest zoos in the world. A lake. Boats. And such a nice day, too.”
“But Mrs. Butterly …”
“I’ll have no but-but-buts from you, Gulliver. Off you go!”
“Yes, ma’am.” With Ellery Queen gone, Gully did have a few days for sight-seeing. He shoved the notebook into one of his back pockets and left.
But an hour later he was back. Mrs. Butterly opened the door and immediately looked stern.
“Why are you back so soon?”
“Gosh, Mrs. Butterly. I watched the monkeys in the zoo for an hour. It wasn’t any fun without a friend.”
“Then make friends. You’ve got eight million people in the city to choose from!”
She bustled away, shaking her head.
Gully had just decided to go to Ellery’s study and pick out a book to read when the doorbell rang.
“Will you please see who it is, Gulliver? I’m busy in the kitchen,” the housekeeper called to him.
“Yes, ma’am.” Gully went to the door and opened it.
Standing before him was a boy about his own age but a head shorter, dressed in faded blue jeans and a work shirt. He looked up at Gully with a pair of intensely black eyes. He had a short, turned-up button of a nose and black curly hair badly in need of cutting. A crumpled sailor hat was stuck far back on his head.
“You live here?” the boy asked curiously.
“Yes.”
“You named Queen?”
“Yes.”
The boy eyed Gully. A quick temper seemed to smolder in his eyes.
“Ya don’t look it.”
“Well, that’s my name whether I look it or not,” Gully replied, returning the stare. He was rapidly becoming annoyed at the boy’s manner. “I didn’t know I had to have a special look about me.”
“Don’t get excited,” the visitor said, trying to look past Gully into the apartment. “What I meant was that you look kind of young to be a famous detective who writes books.”
“You mean my uncle, Ellery Queen.”
“That’s the character I wanna see. Where is he?”
“He’s not here.”
The boy pushed Gully aside and walked in.
“Okay. I’ll wait.”
“You’ll have a long wait. Ellery Queen will be away for several days.”
“Huh?” There was disappointment on the boy’s face.
“I’m Gulliver Queen. Can I do anything for you?”
“Pleased to meet you,” the boy said. “I’m Fisty Jones.”
“If you give me your address,” Gully said, “my uncle will get in touch with you when he returns.”
He took out his notebook and, opening to the first page, wrote down the visitor’s name.
“Sure.” Fisty gave him a downtown address.
“Now,” Gully continued, very business-like, “can you tell me why you came to see Ellery Queen?”
