Ellery Queen - 1933 - The American Gun Mystery by Ellery Queen

Author:Ellery Queen [Queen, Ellery]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2012-01-15T12:08:19+00:00

A bespectacled face popped into sight in the square window. “Yep, Major?”

“We’re ready, Joe. Shoot ‘er along.”

Instantly the lights went out and they were left in a velvety, palpable darkness. There was a whirr and clacking roar of machinery from the operator’s booth behind. Suddenly a title materialized on the screen, accompanied by a stock blare of dirge-like introductory music. The title read:BUCK HORNE KILLED!

SENSATIONAL MURDER AT COLOSSEUM N.Y.’S NEW

SPORT ARENA!

The title flicked off, and another came on—a long passage: EDITOR’S NOTE—These are the first pictures of the Home shooting to reach the screen. These unique scenes of the events leading up to and following the shocking murder of Hollywood’s best-beloved Western star are made possible through the enterprise of——News and the courtesy of the New York Police Department.

The title vanished, and the first view of the Colosseum the night before leaped onto the screen, accompanied by the newsreel announcer’s voice.

“Here you see the vast crowd who packed the Colosseum,” boomed the voice, as the scene slowly shifted from tier to tier of seats in the amphitheatre, “before the fatal shooting. The occasion was the grand opening at this world-famous sport arena in New York City of Wild Bill Grant’s Rodeo . . . . Twenty thousand persons were enjoying the colorful spectacle of leaping horses, whooping cowboys—” The voice stopped and a burst of sound came from the amplifier as the cameras darted from one part of the arena to another, catching the sights and sounds of the preliminary events the Queens had witnessed the night before, including a brief glimpse of Curly Grant laughing and showing his teeth as he popped the little glass balls out of existence with careless shots from his long-barreled revolver.

Suddenly there was a hush: the arena emptied; the camera swung and fixed on the huge western gate. Out pranced Wild Bill Grant on his horse; the camera followed him to the center of the oval. It caught his gallop, his sliding stop in a group of flying dirt-clods, his wave of the Western hat, his smile, the applause and stamping of feet, Grant’s signal-shot toward the roof, and his bloodcurdling cowboy yell to gain silence. Then his opening bellow: “La-dees and Gentlemen, per-mit me to welcome you to the Grrrand Opening of Wild Bill Grrrant’s Rrrrodeo! The Larrrgest Ag

—” The roaring continued. Then the dramatic appearance of Buck Horne on his magnificent mount, Rawhide, the yelling entrance of the forty-one riders, the signal-shots, the swirl of the start of the gallop around the tanbark track . . . .

They leaned forward tensely as the events of the preceding evening recreated themselves with such startling faithfulness on the screen . . . .

Someone sighed tremulously as there was a hasty glimpse of Buck Home twisting sideways from his saddle at the instant of the thunderous fusillade

—this was a long, indistinct volley—his fall, the wild confusion of milling horses and the screams of the spectators . . . . They sat silently as the camera

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