The three envelopes, then, had been lying between these two pages, thought Ellery. He began to read¯to himself.
“What,” said Pat feverishly, “what would Jim Haight be doing with a book on toxicology?”
Ellery looked at her. ”These two facing pages deal with various arse-nious compounds¯formulae, morbific effects, detection in organs and tissues, antidotes, fatal dosages, treatment of diseases arising from arse-nious poisoning¯”
“Poisoning!”
Ellery laid the book down within the brightest focus of the lamp. His finger pointed to the words in bold type: Arsenious Oxid (AS2O3).
His finger moved down to a paragraph which described arsenious oxid as “white, tasteless, poisonous,” and gave the fatal dosage.
This paragraph had been underlined in light red crayon.
In a quite clear voice that emerged from between wry, unwilling lips, Pat said: “Jim is planning to murder Nora.”
PART TWO
Chapter 9
Burnt Offering
“Jim is planning to murder Nora.”
Ellery set the book upon the shelf. With his back to Pat, he said: “Nonsense.”
“You saw the letters yourself! You read them!”
Mr. Queen sighed. They went downstairs in the dark, his arm about her waist.
Outside, there was the old moon and a stencil of cold stars. Pat shivered against him, and his clasp tightened. They drifted across the silver lawn and came to rest beneath the tallest elm.
“Look at the sky,” said Ellery, “and tell me that again.”
“Don’t feed me philosophy! Or poetry. This is the good old U.S.A. in the Year of Our Madness nineteen-forty. Jim is insane. He must be!” She began to cry.
“The human mind¯” began Mr. Queen, and he stopped. He had been about to say that the human mind was a curious and wonderful instrument. But it occurred to him in time that this was a two-way phrase, a Delphic hedge. The fact was . . . it looked bad. Very bad.
“Nora’s in danger,” sobbed Pat. ”Ellery, what am I going to do?”
“Time may spade up some bones of truth, Patty.”
“But I can’t take this alone! Nora¯you saw how Nora took it. Ellery, she was scared green. And then . . . just as if nothing had happened. She’s decided already, don’t you see? She’s decided not to believe it. If you waved those letters under her nose, Nora wouldn’t admit anything now! Her mind opened for just a second; now it’s shut down tight, and she’d lie to God.”
“Yes,” said Ellery, and his arms comforted her.
“He was so much in love with her! You saw it all happen. You saw the look on his face that night when they came downstairs to say they were going to be married. Jim was happy. When they got back from their honeymoon, he seemed even happier.” Pat whispered: “Maybe he has gone mad. Maybe that’s been the whole thing all along. A dangerous maniac!”
Ellery said nothing.
“How can I tell Mother? Or my father? It would kill them, and it wouldn’t do any good. And yet¯I’ve got to!”
A car throbbed up the Hill in the darkness.
“You’re letting your emotions get in the way of your thinking, Pat,” said Ellery. ”A situation like this calls for observation and caution. And a disciplined tongue.”
“I don’t understand . . . ”
“One false accusation, and you might wreck the lives not only of Jim and Nora, but of your father and mother, too.”
“Yes . . . And Nora waited so long¯”
“I said there’s time. There is. We’ll watch, and we’ll see, and meanwhile it will be a secret between us . . . Did I say ‘we’?” Ellery sounded rueful. ”It seems I’ve declared myself in.”
Pat gasped. ”You wouldn’t back out now? I took it for granted. I mean, I’ve counted on you from that first awful moment. Ellery, you’ve got to help Nora! You’re trained to this sort of thing. Please don’t go away!” Pat shook him.
“I just said ‘we,’ didn’t I?” said Ellery, almost irritably. There was something wrong. A sound had gone wrong somewhere. A sound that had stopped. A car? Had that been a car before? It hadn’t passed . . . ”Cry it out now; but when it’s over, it’s over. Do you understand?” And now he shook her.
“Yes,” wept Pat. ”I’m a snuffling fool. I’m sorry.”
“You’re not a fool, but you must be a heroine. No word, no look, no attitude. As far as the rest of Wrightsville is concerned, those letters don’t exist. Jim is your brother-in-law, and you like him, and you’re happy about him and Nora.” She nodded against his shoulder. ”We mustn’t tell your father or mother or Frank Lloyd or¯”
Pat raised her head. ”Or whom?”
“No,” said Ellery with a frown. ”I can’t make that decision for you, too.”
“You mean Cart,” said Pat steadily.
“I mean the Prosecutor of Wright County.”
Pat was silent. Ellery was silent. The moon was lower now, its bosom ruffled with slate flounces of cloud.
“I couldn’t tell Carter,” murmured Pat. ”It never even occurred to me. I can’t tell you why. Maybe it’s because he’s connected with the police. Maybe it’s because he’s not in the family¯”
“I’m not in the family, either,” said Mr. Queen.
“You’re different!”
Despite himself, Mr. Queen experienced a chill of pleasure. But his voice was impersonal. ”At any rate, you’ve got to be my eyes and ears, Pat. Stay with Nora as much as possible without arousing her suspicions. Watch Jim without seeming to. Report everything that happens. And whenever possible, you must work me into your family gatherings. Is all that clear?”
Pat actually smiled up at him. ”I was being silly. Now it doesn’t seem half so bad, with you under this tree, and the moonlight touching that flat plane of your right cheek . . . You’re very handsome, you know, Ellery¯”
“Then why in hell,” growled a male voice from the darkness, “don’t you kiss him?”
“Cart!” Pat snuggled against the black chest of the elm.
They could hear Bradford breathing somewhere near¯breathing short deep ones.
Too absurd, thought Mr. Queen. A man of logic should evade such encirclements by chance. But at least it cleared up the minor irritation of the sound-that-had-stopped. It had been Carter Bradford’s car.
“Well, he is handsome,” said Pat’s voice from the tree trunk. Ellery grinned to himself.
“You lied to me,” cried Carter. He materialized: no hat and his chestnut hair angry. ”Don’t hide in a bush, Pat!”
“I’m not hiding,” said Pat peevishly, “and it isn’t a bush, it’s a tree.” She came out of the darkness, too; and they faced each other with punctilio.
Mr. Queen watched with silent enjoyment.
“You told me over the phone that you had a headache!”
“Yes.”
“You said you were going to bed!”
“I am.”
“Don’t quibble!”
“Why not? You raise such unimportant points, Mr. Bradford.”
Carter’s arms flapped under the unfriendly stars. ”You lied to get rid of me. You didn’t want me around. You had a date with this scribbler! Don’t deny it!”
“I do deny it.” Pat’s voice softened. ”I did lie to you, Cart, but I didn’t have a date with Ellery.”
“That,” remarked Mr. Queen from his observation post, “happens to be the truth.”
“Stick your two cents out, Smith!” shouted Carter. ”I’m trying to keep my temper, or I’d drape you over the lawn!”