The House of Brass (Ellery Queen Mysteries, 1968) (Ellery Queen Mysteries by Queen Ellery

Author:Queen, Ellery [Queen, Ellery]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mystery
ISBN: 9781483036823
Amazon: 1483036820
Goodreads: 22579172
Publisher: Blackstone Audio
Published: 1968-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

* * *

“I’m leaving my two men here till I finish my investigation,” Fleck announced before he drove off, “and nobody better try to cop out, because I’ll take it hard. Don’t leave the grounds, except if you need anything from town one of the ladies can do it. Oh, and if anybody decides he’s got something to say to me, tell one of my officers. Okay?” Then he left, almost skipping.

There was nothing else. No fingerprints had been found in Brass’s sitting room or bedroom—or on the door Vaughn had been straddling—

that should not have been there. No evidence of any description had turned up. They were immured with a murderer, and the Inspector felt challenged.

“But Richard dear,” Jessie protested, “all we have to do is tell Chief Fleck I’m not the real Jessie Sherwood and he’ll let us go. He’ll know we can’t be mixed up with that six million dollars. I see no reason to stay on.

We’re not even able to help that poor old man anymore.” That was when her spouse took her hands in his and said, “Honey, I’ve got to hear the other shoe drop. One of these people murdered old Hendrik. Who? I can’t leave till I find out.”

So all Jessie could do was stand at her bedroom window and watch the county meat wagon cart away the remains of their baffling host, dissec-tion-table-bound. There were other faces at other windows, all glum, watching, too. Even if the late Hendrik had died fortified by the prayers of the Dutch Reformed Church (which he had told them in his wicked way he had not attended for sixty years), they would not have felt comforted.

Not, at least, until the pall of murder was lifted from The House of Brass; or, for relief, the six million untraced dollars were dealt among the lucky innocents.

And that seemed a long way off, for Vaughn in his legal entity assured them that the law debarred any distribution of the estate for at least six months. He seemed to take joy in the assurance.

It occurred to more than one of them that, suddenly, in some magical reversal of reality, they had exchanged one tormentor for another.

Chapter 7

AND WHERE AGAIN?

Burial was to be in the family plot on the grounds at Hendrik Brass’s express request, Vaughn said. “He told me F.D.R. got planted in his Hyde Park turf, and he had as much right to dig his own dirt as any Democrat that ever died.”

“May I inquire,” inquired Mr. Pealing of Pealing & Pealing, the Phillipskill morticians, “if the deceased left any provision—?”

“If you mean you’re buggered about your bread, Mac,” Vaughn said,

“I wouldn’t advise making with the super-deluxe bronze. There’s some question about the scratch. The best I can promise you right now is that your bill will give you a creditor’s claim on the estate.”

“No insurance policies, Mr. Vaughn?”

“No policies.”

Mr. Pealing sighed. “Well, my father buried his father, and my grandfather buried his grandfather, so I suppose I can’t do less than bury him.

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