Her eyes flashed then. “Ellery Queen, how dare you ask me such a filthy question!”
“You bring it on yourself,” he said bitterly. “Paula, it’s — very queer.”
She was wordless for a long time. Ellery mooned down at her sleek hair with its fascinating band of gray. Teach him a lesson, he thought. The one thing he didn’t know anything about was women. And this one was exceptionally clever and elusive; you just couldn’t grasp her. He turned and for the second time made for the door.
“Stop!” Paula cried. “Wait. I’ll... I’ll tell you what I can.”
“I’m waiting,” he growled.
“Oh, I shouldn’t, but you’re so... Please don’t be angry with me.”
Her splendid eyes shed such soft, luminous warmth that Ellery felt himself beginning to melt. He said hastily: “Well?”
“I do know who called.” She spoke in a very low tone, her lashes resting on her cheeks. “I recognized the voice.”
“Then this man didn’t give you his name?”
“Don’t be clever; I didn’t say it was a man. As a matter of fact, this — person did give a name. The right name, because the voice checked.”
Ellery frowned. “Then there was no secret about this caller’s identity? He — or she — made no effort to conceal it?”
“Not the slightest.”
“Who was it?”
“That’s the one thing I won’t tell you.” She cried out at his sudden movement. “Oh, can’t you see I mustn’t? It’s against every rule of newspaper ethics. And if I betrayed an informant once, I’d lose the confidence of the thousands of people who sell me information.”
“But this is murder, Paula.”
“I haven’t committed any crime,” she said stubbornly. “I would have notified the police, except that as a precaution I had the call traced, found it came from the airport, and by the time I got my information the plane had left and the police already knew what had happened.”
“The airport.” Ellery sucked his lower lip.
“And besides, how was I to know it would wind up in murder? Mr. Queen... Ellery, don’t look at me that way!”
“You’re asking me to take a great deal on faith. Even now it’s your duty as a citizen to tell Glücke about that call, to tell him who it was that called you.”
“Then I’m afraid,” she half-whispered, “you’ll have to take it that way.”
“All right.” And for the third time Ellery went to the door.
“Wait! I— Would you like a real tip?”
“More?” said Ellery sarcastically.
“It’s only for your ears. I haven’t printed it yet.”
“Well, what is it?”
“More than a week ago — that’s the thirteenth, last Wednesday — Jack and Blythe took a quiet little trip by plane.”
“I didn’t know about that,” muttered Ellery. “Where did they go?”
“To the Chocolate Mountain estate of Blythe’s father.”
“I don’t see anything remarkable in that. Jack and Blythe had made up by that time. Quite natural for two people intending to be married to visit the bride-to-be’s father.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Ellery scowled. “You possess an omniscience, Paula, that disturbs me. Who poisoned Jack and Blythe?”
“Quien sabe?”
“What’s more to the point, why were they poisoned?”
“Oh,” she murmured, “so that’s bothering you, eh?”
“You haven’t answered my question.”
“Darling,” she sighed, “I’m just a lonely woman shut up in a big house, and all I know is what I read in the papers. Nevertheless, I’m beginning to think... I could guess.”
“Guess!” He wrinkled his nose scornfully.
“And I’m also beginning to think... you can, too.” They regarded each other in sober silence. Then Paula rose and smiled and gave him her hand. “Goodbye, Ellery. Come and see me some time. Heavens, I’m starting to talk like Mae West!”
But when he had gone, definitely this time, Paula stood still, staring at the panels of the door, her hands to her flushed face. Finally she went into her bedroom, shut the door, and sat down at her vanity and stared some more, this time at her reflection.
Mae West... Well, why not? she thought defiantly. It merely took courage and a... and a certain natural equipment. And he did seem...
She shivered all at once, all over her body. The shiver came from a sensitive spot in the area of her shoulder where Mr. Queen, in a spirit of scientific research, had squeezed it.
Chapter 11
It’s in the Cards
Mr. Queen, even as he drove away from Paula’s house admiring his own charms in thought, felt a premonitory chill. He had the feeling that he had not heard quite everything.
The infallibility of his intuition was demonstrated the instant he stepped into Jacques Butcher’s office. The Boy Wonder was reading Paula’s column in a grim silence, while Sam Vix tried to look unhappy and Lew Bascom conducted a monologue shrewdly designed to distract the Boy Wonder’s mind.
“I’m like the Phoenix,” Lew was chattering. “It’s won’erful how I rise outa my own ashes. We’ll go ahead with the original plans for the picture, see, only we’ll have Bonnie and Ty double for Blythe and Jack, an’—”
“Can it, Lew,” warned Sam Vix.
“Here’s the mastermind,” said Lew. “Looka here, Queen. Don’t you think—”
Without taking his eyes from the newsprint, Butch said curtly: “It’s impossible. For one thing, Bonnie and Ty wouldn’t do it, and I wouldn’t blame them. For another, the Hays office would crack down. Too much notoriety already. Hollywood’s always sensitive about murders.”
“What’s the matter, Butch?” demanded Ellery.
Butch looked up then, and Ellery was startled at the expression on his face. “Nothing much,” he said with an ugly laugh. “Just another little scoop of Paula Paris’s.”
“Oh, you mean that Monday column?”
“Who said anything about Monday? This is today’s paper.”
“Today?” Ellery looked blank.
“Today. Paula says here that Ty and Bonnie are on their way to honeymoonland.”
“What!”
“Aw, don’t believe what that halfwit writes,” said Lew. “Here, Butch, have a drink.”
“But I just saw Paula,” cried Ellery, “and she didn’t say anything about that!”
“Maybe,” said Vix dryly, “she thinks you can read.”
Butch shrugged. “I guess I had to wake up some time. I think I’ve known all along that Bonnie and I... She’s crazy about Ty; if I hadn’t been so blind I’d have realized all that bickering covered up something deep.” He smiled and poured himself a water-glass full of gin. “Prosit!”
“It’s a dirty trick,” mumbled Lew. “She can’t do that to my pal.”
“Do they know you know?” asked Ellery abruptly.
“I guess not. What difference does it make?”
“Where are they now?”
“I just had a call from Bonnie, gay as a lark — I mean, considering. They’re going to the Horseshoe Club to play cops and robbers with Alessandro. Good luck to ’em.”
Ellery departed in haste. He found Bonnie’s scarlet roadster parked outside the Horseshoe Club; the interior was depressingly deserted, with charwomen scrubbing up the marks of the expensive shoes of Hollywood’s elite and one bartender listlessly wiping glasses.
Bonnie and Ty were leaning side by side over the horseshoe-shaped desk in Alessandro’s office, and Alessandro sat quietly before them, drumming a tune with his fingers.
“This seems to be my bad day,” he remarked dryly when he saw Ellery. “It’s all right, Joe; these folks don’t pack rods. Well, shoot. What’s on your mind?”