“Thank you,” murmured Bonnie. She was staring with a sort of horror at the envelope.
“By the way,” said Ellery, “did you or your maid see the person who rang your bell, Mrs. Stroock?”
“No, indeed. When Mercy went to the door there was nobody there.”
“Hmm. Thank you again, Mrs. Stroock.” Ellery shut the door politely in the stout lady’s face. She sniffed again and marched down the steps, followed to the gate by the detective, who watched her until she turned the corner and then drifted away.
“Thank you,” said Bonnie for the fourth time in a stricken voice to the closed door.
Ellery took the envelope from her fingers and, frowning, returned to the drawing-room. Inspector Glücke gently took Bonnie’s arm.
Ty said: “What’s the matter now?”
Ellery opened the too familiar envelope, addressed in pencilled block letters to “Miss Bonnie Stuart and Mr. Tyler Royle” — no stamp, no other writing except Bonnie’s address — and out tumbled two playing-cards with the blue-backed design.
“The... four of hearts?” said Bonnie faintly.
Ty snatched both cards. “Four of hearts? And the ace of spades!” He went to Bonnie and pulled her close to him suddenly.
“I told you this morning, Glücke, we were dealing with a playful creature,” remarked Ellery. He stared at the cards in Ty’s fist. “Perhaps now you’ll believe me.”
“The ace of spades,” said the Inspector, as if he could not credit the evidence of his own eyesight.
“What does it mean?” asked Bonnie piteously.
“It means,” said Ellery, “that the interview you two gave the press today has already borne fruit. I suppose the extras have been on the streets for an hour, and you heard that awful woman mention the radio. Our friend Egbert was in such haste to get this message to you he refused to wait for the regular mails, which would have brought the cards Monday, or even a special delivery, which would have brought them some time tomorrow.”
“But what’s it mean?”
“As an intelligible message?” Ellery shrugged. “Together the cards say: ‘Bonnie Stuart and Tyler Royle, break your engagement or prepare to die.’”
The Inspector made a sound deep in his throat and nervously looked about the room.
Bonnie was pale, too; paler than Ty. Her hand crept into his.
“Then it is true,” she whispered. “There is a pattern. Ty, what are we going to do?”
“The reason,” Mr. Queen remarked, “that Egbert delivered this message in such haste is that Monday — obviously — will be too late. Even tomorrow may be too late. I trust you get his implication?”
Ty sat down on the sofa, his shoulders sagging. He said wearily: “I get it, all right. It’s true, and we’re not to marry, and if we do it’s curtains for us. So I guess we’ve got to satisfy everybody— Butch, the studio, Egbert L. Smith — and drop our marriage plans.”
Bonnie moaned: “Oh, Ty...”
“Why kid ourselves, honey?” Ty scowled. “If I was the only one concerned, I’d say the hell with Egbert. But I’m not; you’re in it, too. I won’t marry you and lay you wide open to an attack on your life.”
“Oh, you are stupid!” cried Bonnie, stamping. “Don’t you see that isn’t so? I received threats even before we announced our plans. Those threats were mailed to me. The only time you were threatened was just now, after we’d announced our intention to be married!”
“Hurrah for the female intelligence,” said Ellery. “I’m afraid Bonnie scores there, Ty. That’s perfectly true. I refrained from mentioning it before, but I can’t hold it back any longer. All my efforts to keep you two apart have been exerted in your behalf, Ty, not Bonnie’s. It’s your life that’s involved in this association with Bonnie. Bonnie’s life, with or without you, has been in danger from the day her mother died.”
Ty looked confused. “And I socked you!”
“Marry Bonnie and you’re on the spot. Don’t marry Bonnie and you’re not on the spot. But she is whether you marry her or not. It’s a pretty thought.”
“In again, out again.” Ty grinned a twisted grin. “I’ve given up trying to make sense out of this thing. If what you say is true, we’re going to be married. I’m not going to let her face this alone. Let that sneaking son try to kill me — let him try.”
“No, Ty,” said Bonnie miserably. “I can’t have you doing that. I can’t. Why should you endanger your life? I don’t pretend to understand it, either, but how can I let you share a danger that’s apparently directed at me alone?”
“You,” said Ty, “are marrying me tomorrow, and no arguments.”
“Oh, Ty,” whispered Bonnie, creeping into his arms. “I’d hoped you’d say that. I am afraid.”
Inspector Glücke was prowling about in a baffled sort of way. “If we only knew who it was,” he muttered. “If we knew, we might be able to do something.”
“Oh, but we do know,” said Ellery. He looked up at their exclamations. “I forgot you didn’t know. I do, of course, and I tell you we can do nothing—”
“‘Of course,’ he says!” shouted the Inspector. He pounced on Ellery and shook him. “Who is it?”
“Yes,” said Ty in a funny voice. “Who is it, Queen?”
“Please, Glücke. Just knowing who it is doesn’t solve this problem.” He began to pace up and down, restlessly.
“Why not?”
“Because there’s not an atom of evidence to bring into court. The case wouldn’t get past a Grand Jury, if it ever got to a Grand Jury at all. It would be thrown out for lack of evidence, and you’d have missed your chance to pin the crimes on the one who committed them.”
“But, good God, man,” cried Ty, “we can’t just sit around here waiting for the fellow to attack. We’ve got to do something to trim his claws!”
“Let me think,” said Ellery irritably. “You’re making too much noise, all of you.”
He walked up and down, head bent. There was no sound at all except the sound of his march about the room.
“Look,” interrupted the Inspector. “A cop has just as great a responsibility protecting life as investigating death. You say you know who’s behind all this, Queen. All right. Let’s go to this bird, tell him we know, warn him he’ll be watched until the day he dies by a squad of detectives on twenty-four-hour duty. He’d be a bigger fool than any one could be if he didn’t give up his plans then and there.”
“I’ve thought of that, of course,” said Ellery crossly. “But it has one nasty drawback. It means Egbert will never hang for the murder of Jack and Blythe; and if there’s one little fellow I’d have no objection to seeing hanged, it’s Egbert.”
“If it means safety for Bonnie,” said Ty, “let him go. Let him go! Glücke’s right.”
“Or why couldn’t we,” began Bonnie, and stopped. “That’s it! Why couldn’t Ty and I be married right this minute and then vanish? Go off somewhere without anybody’s knowing where. Anybody. Then we’d be safe!”
“And go through the rest of a long life looking over your shoulder every time you heard a sound behind you?” asked Ellery. And then he stared at Bonnie. “Of course! That’s it. Vanish! Exactly. Exactly. Force his hand. He’d have to...” His voice trailed off and he began to run madly, like an ant, his lips moving silently.
“Have to what?” demanded the Inspector.
“Try to murder them, of course... Yes, he would. Let’s see now. If we pulled the stunt—”