Dirk walked over to his garage. A few minutes later he rolled out at the wheel of his Buick Roadmaster, a gift from Martha.
He drove slowly south. Ellery had no difficulty following him.
At 14th Street Dirk swung west. When he got to Union Square he turned south again, into Broadway. He parked near East 7th Street and walked around the corner to McSorley’s Old Ale House, one of the few spots in New York which barred women. It seemed to Ellery symbolic, and the symbolism ominous.
When Dirk came out he drove downtown at a faster pace, as if he were getting impatient. By this time it was growing dark.
It was twenty minutes to nine when the Buick turned into Pine Street and parked. Broadway was quiet and Trinity Place was deserted.
Dirk got out. He peered across the street for a moment, then he walked restlessly down to the corner of Wall Street, crossed Broadway, and walked back up the other side to the silent church. Ellery, watching from the southeast corner of Broadway and Cedar Street, saw him walk up to the door and disappear in the shadows.
The hands of Ellery’s wristwatch crept toward the hour mark. Ellery felt tight all over. He had tried to find out if Dirk’s .45 was gone from its drawer, but Nikki had had no time to check. If Dirk had taken it with him...
At two minutes to nine Ellery pulled his hat lower and crossed Broadway. He would have to chance Dirk’s recognizing him.
As he reached the opposite sidewalk a car bore down from the direction of City Hall Park and slid to rest outside the churchyard near the corner of Wall Street. It was the red convertible. Harrison was alone.
Dirk stepped out of the shadows of the church and drifted, across Broadway toward Pine Street. Ellery let his breath out.
Ellery strode back up Broadway toward his own car. He had almost reached it when a taxi sped by. It was Martha.
Dirk saw her, too. He disappeared on the run, toward his Buick. But he was too late. The cab slammed to a stop, Martha jumped out, she tumbled into the convertible, and it roared away.
Harrison had kept his motor running.
By the time the Buick swung into Broadway, the convertible had turned into Exchange Place and was gone.
Dirk raced up and down and up the dark cross streets of the financial district as if he were demented.
“Just when he got on to this,” Ellery said to Nikki the next time she was able to slip away, “I don’t know. But he’s on to it, and he’s not making a scene because he doesn’t want Martha knowing he knows. It’s bad, Nikki, bad. What he’s trying to do is...”
“Find out how far it’s gone,” mumbled Nikki.
“I’m afraid so. From Dirk’s viewpoint, you can hardly blame him. He knows now that they’ve been meeting secretly, he knows Martha’s lied to him consistently, and if he suspects the worst — well, who wouldn’t? If I were in his shoes, I’d probably do just what he’s doing. I’d want to know, as you put it, how far it’s gone. — Nikki.”
“Yes?” Nikki was all drawn up in the chair, as if she were cold.
“Did he have the gun with him?”
“Yes.”
Ellery said slowly: “I’m going to have to come out in the open, Nikki. As far as I can see, it’s all that’s left.”
Nikki opened the door of the Lawrence apartment and said, “Thank God. Another minute and he’d have gone.”
“I watched her leave. Where is he?”
“In the bedroom.”
Ellery walked into Dirk’s bedroom without knocking. Dirk was standing at the bureau, his hand in an open drawer. He whirled. His dark face smoothed. With his back he shut the drawer.
“Well, look who’s here,” he said.
“Hello, Dirk. I hope I haven’t dropped in at the wrong time. Were you going out?”
“As a matter of fact, I am. And I’m in something of a rush. Why don’t you stop by tomorrow for a drink?” Dirk began putting his jacket on.
“Because tomorrow may be too late.”
Dirk’s arms remained aloft for a moment. Then they came down, and he said lightly, “What profound meaning underlies that remark, Professor?”
“I think you know.”
Dirk looked at him. Then he snatched his hat from the bureau and strode toward the door. “Get out of my way.”
“No.”
Dirk’s face was very close to his. “She’s been meeting him on the sly. God knows for how long. Van Harrison, that ham has-been. This isn’t a figment of a disturbed imagination, my friend. They’ve got a cute little code system worked out which tells her where and when to meet him. Right now she’s on her way to the UN building — the rendezvous for tonight. The other night I almost caught them down at Trinity Church. They meet and they go somewhere. Where? That’s what I want to know. What do they do when they get there? That’s what I’m going to find out. And when I do... Ellery, get out of my way.”
Ellery did not stir. “And when you do, Dirk, what?”
“Out of my way, I said.”
“What, Dirk?”
Dirk said through his teeth: “One side!”
“I’m sorry. You’re not going anywhere tonight.”
Dirk’s right shoulder came up. Ellery slipped inside the punch and pushed. Dirk fell over backward, landing on his shoulder blades on the bed. As Dirk bounced up, Ellery pushed him back again. Without slowing his stride he went to the bureau and opened the top drawer. He heard Dirk’s rush coming and he turned around with the .45.
“Sit down, Dirk.”
Dirk stood there, his dark eyes flaming. “Brother Queen!”
“All right, stand,” Ellery said. “She’s meeting this actor on and off, and maybe it’s what it looks like. But I can’t see the point of this gun, Dirk. What would it prove? That you’re a better man than he is?”
“Yes!” said Dirk.
“Or does that seem like a sensible way of getting Martha back? It’s no good, Dirk. It’s no solution. For you or for Martha.”
Dirk grinned. At least, it was a sort of grin. He drew his lips back, and the canines showed.
“Dirk, I’m going to take this gun away with me, and I want you to promise you won’t buy another.”
“You sanctimonious jerk,” said Dirk. “Do you think you can sermonize me into turning the other cheek? Do you know what they did to me? Do you know what they’re doing to me? Me! They’re killing me, one piece at a time! And they’re spitting on every last bloody piece! There’s nothing left! Nothing!” He stopped, swallowing. Then he said, “You’ve got no right. Give me my gun.”
Ellery said, “No.”
“Give it to me.”
“No, Dirk.”
The dark face twitched. Then Dirk looked down, and Ellery, puzzled, followed Dirk’s glance to its destination.
He was looking at his hands.
When Ellery looked up, Dirk was smiling. “The hell with a gun,” said Dirk.
He turned on his heel and walked out.
At three in the morning Inspector Queen was awakened by strange noises. He reached for his Police Positive and went into the living room on the run, his nightshirt flapping.
Ellery was sitting on the foyer floor.
“Greetings and salutations,” said Ellery.
His father stared. “Hi.”
“I’m sober,” said Ellery.