The Roman Hat Mystery (21 page)

It was exactly ten o
’
clock in the morning when Inspector Queen and his son opened the frosted glass door marked: monte field attorney-at-law The large waiting room they entered was decorated in just such a fashion as might have been expected from a man of Field
’
s taste in clothes. It was deserted, and with a puzzled glance Inspector Queen pushed through the door, Ellery strolling behind, and went into the General Office. This was a long room filled with desks. It resembled a newspaper
“
city room
”
except for its rows of bookcases filled with ponderous legal tomes.

The office was in a state of violent upheaval. Stenographers chattered excitedly in small groups. A number of male clerks whispered in a corner; and in the center of the room stood Detective Hesse, talking earnestly to a lean saturnine man with grayed temples. It was evident that the demise of the lawyer had created something of a stir in his place of business.

At the entrance of the Queens the employees looked at each other in a startled way and began to slip back to their desks. An embarrassed silence fell. Hesse hurried forward. His eyes were red and strained.

“
Good morning, Hesse,
”
said the Inspector abruptly.
“
Where
’
s Field
’
s private office?
”

The detective led them across the room to still another door, a large private lettered on its panels. The three men went into a small office which was overwhelmingly luxurious.

“
This chap went for atmosphere, didn
’
t he?
”
Ellery chuckled, sinking into a red-leather armchair.

“
Let
’
s have it, Hesse,
”
said the Inspector, following Ellery
’
s suit.

Hesse began to talk rapidly.
“
Got here last night and found the door locked. No sign of a light inside. I listened pretty closely but couldn
’
t hear a sound, so I took it for granted that there was no one inside and camped in the corridor all night. At about a quarter to nine this morning the office manager breezed in and I collared him. He was that tall bird I was talking to when you came in. Name
’
s Lewin
―
Oscar Lewin.
”

“
Office manager, eh?
”
remarked the old man, inhaling snuff.

“
Yes, Chief. He
’
s either dumb or else he knows how to keep his mouth shut,
”
continued Hesse.
“
Of course, he
’
d already seen the morning papers and was upset by the news of Field
’
s murder. I could see he didn
’
t like my questions any too well, either . . . . I didn
’
t get a thing out of him. Not a thing. He said he
’
d gone straight home last night
―
it seems Field had left about four o
’
clock and didn
’
t come back
―
and he didn
’
t know anything about the murder until he read the papers. We
’
ve been sort of sliding along here all morning, waiting for you to come.
”

“
Get Lewin for me.
”

Hesse returned with the lanky office manager in his wake. Oscar Lewin was physically unprepossessing. He had shifty black eyes and was abnormally thin. There was something predatory in his beaked nose and bony figure. The Inspector looked him over coldly.

“
So you
’
re the office manager,
”
he remarked.
“
Well, what do you think of this affair, Lewin?
”

“
It
’
s terrible
―
simply terrible,
”
groaned Lewin.
“
I can
’
t imagine how it happened or why. Good Lord, I was talking to him only four o
’
clock yesterday afternoon!
”
He seemed genuinely distressed.

“
Did Mr. Field appear strange or worried when you spoke to him?
”

“
Not at all, sir,
”
replied Lewin nervously.
“
In fact, he was in unusually good spirits. Cracked a joke about the Giants and said he was going to see a darned good show last night
―’
Gunplay.
’
And now I see by the papers that he was killed there!
”

“
Oh, he told you about the play, did he?
”
asked the Inspector.
“
He didn
’
t happen to remark by any chance that he was going with anybody?
”

“
No, sir.
”
Lewin shuffled his feet.

“
I see.
”
Queen paused.
“
Lewin, as manager you must have been closer to Field than any other of his employees. Just what do you know about him personally?
”

“
Not a thing, sir, not a thing,
”
said Lewin hastily.
“
Mr. Field was not a man with whom an employee could become familiar. Occasionally he said something about himself, but it was always of a general nature and more jesting than serious. To us outside he was always a considerate and generous employer
―
that
’
s all.
”

“
What exactly was the caliber of the business he conducted, Lewin? You must certainly know something about that.
”

“
Business?
”
Lewin seemed startled.
“
Why, it was as fine a practice as any I
’
ve encountered in the law profession. I
’
ve worked for Field only two years or so, but he had some high-and-mighty clients, Inspector. I can give you a list of them . . . .
”

“
Do that and mail it to me,
”
said Queen.
“
So he had a flourishing and respectable practice, eh? Any personal visitors to your knowledge
―
especially recently?
”

“
No. I can
’
t remember ever seeing any one up here except his clients. Of course, he may have known some of them socially . . . . Oh, yes! Of course his valet came here at times
―
tall, brawny fellow by the name of Michaels.
”

“
Michaels? I
’
ll have to remember that name,
”
said the Inspector thoughtfully. He looked up at Lewin.
“
All right, Lewin. That will be all now. You might dismiss the force for the day. And
―
just stay around for a while. I expect one of Mr. Sampson
’
s men soon, and undoubtedly he will need your help.
”
Lewin nodded gravely and retired.

The moment the door closed Queen was on his feet.
“
Where
’
s Field
’
s private washroom, Hesse?
”
he demanded. The detective pointed to a door in a far corner of the room.

Queen opened it, Ellery crowding close behind. They were peering into a tiny cubicle spaced off in an angle of the wall. It contained a washbowl, a medicine chest and a small clothes closet. Queen looked into the medicine chest first. It held a bottle of iodine, a bottle of peroxide, a tube of shaving cream, and other shaving articles.
“
Nothing there,
”
said Ellery.
“
How about the closet?
”
The old man pulled the door open curiously. A suit of street clothes hung there, a half-dozen neckties and a fedora hat. The Inspector carried the hat back into the office and examined it. He handed it to Ellery, who disdainfully returned it at once to its peg in the closet.

“
Dang those hats!
”
exploded the Inspector. There was a knock on the door and Hesse admitted a bland young man.

“
Inspector Queen?
”
inquired the newcomer politely.

“
Right,
”
snapped the Inspector,
“
and if you
’
re a reporter you can say the police will apprehend the murderer of Monte Field within twenty-four hours. Because that
’
s all I
’
m going to give you right now.
”

The young man smiled.
“
Sorry, Inspector, but I
’
m not a reporter. I
’
m Arthur Stoates, new man at District Attorney Sampson
’
s office. The Chief couldn
’
t reach me until this morning and I was busy on something else
―
that
’
s why I
’
m a little late. Too bad about Field, isn
’
t it?
”
He grinned as he threw his coat and hat on a chair.

“
It
’
s all in the point of view,
”
grumbled Queen.
“
He
’
s certainly causing a heap of trouble. Just what were Sampson
’
s instructions?
”

“
Well, I
’
m not as familiar with Field
’
s career as I might be, naturally, but I
’
m pinch-hitting for Tim Cronin, who
’
s tied up this morning on something else. I
’
m to make a start until Tim gets untangled, which will be some time this afternoon. Cronin, you know, was the man after Field a couple of years ago. He
’
s aching to get busy with these files.
”

“
Fair enough. From what Sampson told me about Cronin
―
if there
’
s anything incriminating in these records and files, he
’
ll ferret it out. Hesse, take Mr. Stoates outside and introduce him to Lewin
―
that
’
s the office manager, Stoates. Keep your eye on him
―
he looks like a wily bird. And, Stoates
―
remember you
’
re looking not for legitimate business and clientele in these records, but for something crooked . . . . See you later.
”

Stoates gave him a cheery smile and followed Hesse out. Ellery and his father faced each other across the room.

“
What
’
s that you
’
ve got in your hand?
”
asked the old man sharply.

“
A copy of
‘
What Handwriting Tells,
’
which I picked up in this bookcase,
”
replied Ellery lazily.
“
Why?
”

“
Come to think of it now, El,
”
declared the Inspector slowly,
“
there
’
s something fishy about this handwriting business.
”
He shook his head in despair and rose.
“
Come along, son, there isn
’
t a blamed thing here.
”

On their way through the main office, now empty except for Hesse, Lewin and Stoates, Queen beckoned to the detective.
“
Go home, Hesse,
”
he said kindly.
“
Can
’
t have you coming down with the grippe.
”
Hesse grinned and sped through the door.

In a few minutes Inspector Queen was sitting in his private office at Center Street. Ellery termed it
“
the star chamber.
”
It was small and cozy and homelike. Ellery draped himself over a chair and began to con the books on handwriting which he had filched from Field
’
s apartment and office. The Inspector pressed a buzzer and the solid figure of Thomas Velie loomed in the doorway.