“Hello, Mr. Queen,” cried Bonnie. She looked lovely and fresh in a tailored gabardine suit and a crimson jellyroll of a hat tipped on her honey hair; her cheeks were pink with excitement. “We were just asking Mr. Alessandro about those IOU’s.”
So they didn’t know yet, Ellery thought. He grinned: “Coincidence. That’s why I’m here, too.”
“You and Inspector Glücke,” chuckled the little fat gambler. “The flattie! Only he was here Monday.”
“I don’t care about that,” barked Ty. “You admit my dad owed you a hundred and ten thousand dollars?”
“Sure I admit it. It’s true.”
“Then how is it those IOU’s were found on his body?”
“Because,” said Alessandro gently, “he paid up.”
“Oh, he did, did he? When?”
“On Thursday the fourteenth — just a week ago.”
“And with what?”
“With good stiff American dough. Thousand-buck bills.”
“You’re a liar.”
The man called Joe growled. But Alessandro smiled. “I’ve stood a lot from you people,” he said amiably, “you and your folks, get me? I ought to give Joe here the office to slug you for that crack, Royle. Only your old man just got his, and maybe you’re a little excited.”
“You and your gorillas don’t scare me.”
“So you think maybe I had something to do with those murders, hey?” Alessandro snarled. “I warn you, Royle, lay off. I run a clean joint and I got a reputation in this town. Lay off, if you know what’s good for you!”
Bonnie sucked in her breath. But then her eyes snapped and she snatched an envelope from her purse and tossed it on the desk. “Maybe you can explain this!”
Ellery goggled as he saw Alessandro take a blue-backed playing-card out of the envelope and stare at it. One of those cryptic messages! He groaned inwardly. They had utterly slipped his mind. He was growing senile.
Alessandro shrugged. “It comes from the Club, all right. So what?”
“That,” growled Ty, “is what we’re trying to find out.”
The gambler shook his head. “No dice. Anybody could get hold of our cards. Hundreds play here every week, and we give dozens of packs away as souvenirs.”
“I imagine,” said Ellery hurriedly, “Alessandro is right. We’re not learning anything here. Coming, you two?”
He herded them out before they could protest, and the instant they were in Bonnie’s roadster he snapped: “Bonnie, let me see that envelope.”
Bonnie gave it to him. He studied it intently, then put it into his pocket.
“Here, I want that,” said Bonnie. “It’s important. It’s a clue.”
“You’re a better man than I am for spotting it as such,” said Ellery. “I’ll keep it, if you don’t mind — as I happen to have kept the others. Oh, I’m an idiot!”
Bonnie almost ran over a Russian wolfhound. “You!” she cried. “Then it was you—”
“Yes, yes,” said Ellery impatiently. “I fancy I’m better qualified for all my forgetfulness. Magna Studios, Bonnie.”
Ty, who was scarcely listening, muttered: “He’s lying. It couldn’t be anything but a lie.”
“What?”
“Alessandro. We’ve only got his word that those IOU’s were paid. Suppose dad refused to pay, or what’s more likely pointed out how impossible it was for him to pay? It would have been pie for Alessandro to get one of his plug-uglies to play the pilot and after poisoning dad and Blythe put the torn IOU’s into dad’s pocket.”
“But why, Ty?” frowned Bonnie.
“Because he’d know he’d never get his money anyway. Because knowing that, he’d want revenge. And planting the IOU’s on dad would make it seem to the police as if the money was paid, in that way eliminating in their minds any possible motive on Alessandro’s part.”
“A little subtle,” said Ellery, “but conceivable.”
“But even if that’s so,” said Bonnie, “why mother? Don’t you see, Ty, that’s the thing that confuses everything? Why was mother poisoned, too?”
“I don’t know,” said Ty doggedly. “All I know is dad couldn’t possibly have laid his hands on a hundred and ten grand. He had no money, and nowhere to get any.”
“By the way,” remarked Ellery casually, “did you people know that in today’s column Paula Paris hints you two have made up rather thoroughly?”
Bonnie went slowly pale, and Ty blinked several times. Bonnie pulled up to a curb and said: “What?”
“She says you’re well on your way to love and kisses.”
Bonnie looked for a moment as if she was going to have a crying spell again. But then her chin came up and she turned on Ty furiously. “And you promised me!”
“But, Bonnie—” began Ty, still blinking.
“You — fiend!”
“Bonnie! You certainly don’t think—”
“Don’t speak to me, you publicity hound,” said Bonnie with a sick, heavy, hot loathing.
That was the start of an extraordinary day, and every one was thoroughly miserable; and when they got to the Boy Wonder’s office Bonnie went to him and deliberately kissed his mouth and then took up the phone and asked Madge to get Paula Paris on the wire.
Butch looked bewilderedly from Bonnie to Ty; both their faces were red with anger.
“Miss Paris? This is Bonnie Stuart speaking. I’ve just heard that, with your usual cleverness, you’ve found out that Ty Royle and I are going to be married, or something as foul and lying as that.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” murmured Paula.
“If you don’t want to be sued for libel you’ll please print a retraction of that story at once!”
“But, Bonnie, I had it on excellent authority—”
“No doubt. Well, I detest him as much as I detest you for listening to him!”
“But I don’t understand. Ty Royle—”
“You heard me, Miss Paris.” Bonnie slammed the phone down and glared at Ty.
“Well, well,” chuckled Lew. “This is like old times, for gossakes. Now about that picture—”
“Then it isn’t true?” asked Butcher slowly.
“Of course not! And as far as this contemptible — person is concerned...”
Ty turned on his heel and walked out. Ellery hurried after him. “You didn’t give that story to Paula?”
“What do you think I am?”
“Hmm. Very pretty scene.” Ellery glanced at him sidewise. “I shouldn’t be surprised if she did it herself.”
“What!” exploded Ty. He stopped short. “Well, by God, maybe you’re right. She’s been stringing me along. I see it all now — the whole thing, leading me on just so she could turn around and slap me down the way she’s always done. What a rotten trick!”
“That’s women for you,” sighed Ellery.
“I thought at first it was that damned Frenchwoman. She’s the only other one who could possibly have overheard.”
“Oh, then you did get cuddly?”
“Well... But it’s over now — finished! I’m through with that scheming little double-crosser for good!”
“Nobly resolved,” said Ellery heartily. “Man’s much better off alone. Where are you going now?”
“Hell, I don’t know.” They were standing before a row of pretty little stone bungalows. “That’s funny. Here’s dad’s old dressing-room. Force of habit, eh?” Ty muttered: “If you don’t mind, Queen, I think I’ll sort of go in alone.”
“Not a bit of it,” said Ellery, taking his arm. “We’ve both been made fools of, so we ought to pool our misery.”
And he went into John Royle’s studio bungalow with Ty.