Ellery Queen's Lost Men by Eleanor Sullivan

Ellery Queen's Lost Men by Eleanor Sullivan

Author:Eleanor Sullivan [Sullivan, Eleanor]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 0385279507
Publisher: Dial Press
Published: 1983-10-01T21:00:00+00:00


Stanley Ellin

The Blessington Method

Mr. Treadwell was a small, likeable man who worked for a prosperous company in New York City, and whose position with the company entitled him to an office of his own. Late one afternoon of a fine day in June a visitor entered this office. The visitor was stout, well dressed, and imposing. His complexion was smooth and pink, his small, near-sighted eyes shone cheerfully behind heavy, horn-rimmed eyeglasses.

“My name,” he said, after laying aside a bulky portfolio and shaking Mr. Treadwell’s hand with a crushing grip, “is Bunce, and I am a representative of the Society for Gerontology. I am here to help you with your problem, Mr. Treadwell.”

Mr. Treadwell sighed. “Since you are a total stranger to me, my friend,” he said, “and since I have never heard of the outfit you claim to represent, and, above all, since I have no problem which could possibly concern you, I am sorry to say that I am not in the market for whatever you are peddling. Now, if you don’t mind—”

“Mind?” said Bunce. “Of course, I mind. The Society for Gerontology does not try to sell anything to anybody, Mr. Treadwell. Its interests are purely philanthropic. It examines case histories, draws up reports, works toward the solution of one of the most tragic situations we face in modern society.”

“Which is?”

“That should have been made obvious by the title of the organization, Mr. Treadwell. Gerontology is the study of old age and the problems concerning it. Do not confuse it with geriatrics, please. Geriatrics is concerned with the diseases of old age. Gerontology deals with old age as the problem itself.”

“I’ll try to keep that in mind,” Mr. Treadwell said impatiently. “Meanwhile, I suppose, a small donation is in order? Five dollars, say?”

“No, no, Mr. Treadwell, not a penny, not a red cent. I quite understand that this is the traditional way of dealing with various philanthropic organizations, but the Society for Gerontology works in a different way entirely. Our objective is to help you with your problem first. Only then would we feel we have the right to make any claim on you.”

“Fine,” said Mr. Treadwell more amiably. “That leaves us all even. I have no problem, so you get no donation. Unless you’d rather reconsider?”

“Reconsider?” said Bunce in a pained voice. “It is you, Mr. Treadwell, and not I who must reconsider. Some of the most pitiful cases the Society deals with are those of people who have long refused to recognize or admit their problem. I have worked months on your case, Mr. Treadwell. I never dreamed you would fall into that category.”

Mr. Treadwell took a deep breath. “Would you mind telling me just what you mean by that nonsense about working on my case? I was never a case for any damned society or organization in the book!”

It was the work of a moment for Bunce to whip open his portfolio and extract several sheets of paper from it.

“If you will bear with me,” he said, “I should like to sum up the gist of these reports.



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