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“Isn’t that Celeste now?”

She was trying not to run and not succeeding. She would walk faster and faster, then break into a trot, then slow down suddenly, then run. Her black cloth coat kept flopping around her like birds.

It was 10:35.

“Something’s up.”

“What could be?”

“She’s late. Naturally she’d hurry.” Jimmy whistled the signal; it came back all dry and blowy. “Celeste—”

“Jimmy.” She was gulping.

“What is it?” Ellery had her by both arms.

“He phoned.”

The wind had dropped and her words shrilled through the alley. Jimmy shouldered Ellery aside, put his arms around her. She was trembling.

“There’s nothing to be scared of. Stop shaking.”

She began to cry.

They waited. Jimmy kept tumbling her hair.

Finally, she stopped.

Inspector Queen said instantly: “When?”

“A few minutes past 10. I was just leaving — out in the hall with my hand on the doorknob — when I heard the phone ring. Marilyn was in the dining room with Billie and Eleanor and their father and mother and I was nearest to the front room. I ran and got the phone first. It was... I know it was. I heard his voice over the radio the day he gave his press. conference and talk. It’s low and musical and at the same time sort of sharp.”

“Cazalis,” said the Inspector. “You mean this was Dr. Edward Cazalis’s voice, Miss Phillips?” He said it as if he did not believe it at all and as if it were of the greatest importance to corroborate his disbelief.

“I tell you it was!”

“Well, now,” said the Inspector. “Just from hearing it on the radio.” But he moved closer to Celeste.

“What did he say?” This was Ellery. “Word for word!”

“I said hello, and he said hello, and then he gave me the Soames phone number and asked if that was the number and I said yes. He said, ‘Is this the public stenographer, Marilyn Soames, speaking?’ It was his voice. I said no and he said, ‘Is Miss Soames in — it is Miss Soames, isn’t it, not Mrs.? I believe she’s — the daughter of Edna and Frank Soames. I said yes. Then he said, ‘I want to talk to her, please.’ By that time Marilyn was in the room so I handed her the phone and hung around pretending I had to fix my slip.”

“Checking up,” muttered the Inspector. “Making sure.”

“Go on, Celeste!”

“Give her a chance, will you!” growled Jimmy.

“I heard Marilyn say yes once or twice and then she said, ‘Well, I am kind of piled up, but if it’s that kind of deal I’ll try to get it out for you by Monday, Mr. — What was your name again, sir?’ When he told her, Marilyn said, ‘I’m sorry, would you mind spelling that?’ and she spelled it after him.”

“The name.”

“Paul Nostrum. N-o-s-t-r-u-m.”

“Nostrum.” Ellery laughed.

“Then Marilyn said yes, she could call for the manuscript tomorrow, and she asked him where she was to pick it up. He said something and Marilyn said, “I’m tall and dark and I have a mashed nose and I’ll be wearing a cloth coat, big white and black checks, you can’t miss it, and a beanie. How about you?’ and after he answered she said, ‘Well, then, maybe you’d better do all the looking, Mr. Nostrum. I’ll be there. Good night,’ and she hung up.”

Ellery shook her. “Didn’t you get the address, the time?”

Jimmy shook Ellery. “Give her a chance, I said!”

“Wait, wait.” Inspector Queen pushed them both aside. “Did you get any other information, Miss Phillips?”

“Yes, Inspector. When Marilyn hung up I said as offhandedly as I could, ‘New client, Marilyn?’ and she said yes, she wondered how he knew about her, some writer she did work for must have recommended her. ‘Nostrum’ had said he was a writer in from Chicago with his new novel to see his publisher, that he’d have to revise his last few chapters and he needed them retyped in a hurry. He hadn’t been able to get a hotel accommodation and he was staying with ‘friends,’ so he’d meet her tomorrow at 5:30 in the lobby of the Astor to give her his manuscript.”

“Lobby of the Astor!” Ellery was incredulous. “He couldn’t have picked a busier spot at a busier hour in the whole City of New York.”

“You’re sure it’s the Astor, Miss Phillips.”

“That’s what Marilyn said.”

They were silent.

Finally, Ellery shrugged. “No use beating our brains out—”

“No, indeed, for time will tell,” said Jimmy. “Meanwhile what happens to our heroine? Does Celeste stay in that rat cage? Or does she show up at the Astor tomorrow in a checked coat, garnished with parsley?”

“Idiot,” Celeste rested her head on his arm.

“Celeste stays where she is. This is just his opening move. We’ll play along.”

The Inspector nodded. “What time did you say he made that call?” he asked Celeste.

“It was just about five minutes past 10, Inspector Queen.”

“You go back to the Soameses’.”

Ellery squeezed her hand. “Stick to that phone, Celeste. If there’s a call tomorrow from ‘Paul Nostrum’ — or anyone else — changing the time and place of Marilyn’s appointment, that’s one of the emergencies I mentioned. Phone Police Headquarters immediately.”

“All right.”

“Ask for Extension 2-X,” said the Inspector. “That’s a code signal that will put you right through to us.” The old man patted her arm awkwardly. “You’re a good girl.”

“Good, schmood,” muttered Jimmy. “Give me a kiss.”

They watched her walk down the windy street, not moving until she disappeared in the entrance of 486.

Then they ran toward Third Avenue, where the squad car was parked.

According to Sergeant Velie, Detective Goldberg’s 10 P.M. report had stated that at 9:26 Mr. and Mrs. Richardson, accompanied by Dr. and Mrs. Cazalis, had left the Cazalis apartment house. The two couples had strolled up Park Avenue. According to Detective Young, Goldberg’s partner, Cazalis had been in high spirits; he had laughed a great deal. The four had turned west on 84th Street, crossed Madison Avenue, and they stopped before the Park-Lester. Here the couples separated, the Cazalises walking back to Madison, turning north, and stopping in at a drugstore on the corner of 86th Street. They sat at the counter and were served hot chocolates. This was at two minutes of 10, and at 10 o’clock Goldberg had telephoned his hourly report from a coffee shop across the street.

Ellery glanced at the wall clock. “Ten after 11. What about the 11 o’clock report, Sergeant?”

“Wait,” said Sergeant Velie. “Goldie called in again at 10:20. A special.”

The Sergeant seemed to be expecting exclamations and excitement, for he paused dramatically.

But Ellery and Jimmy KcKell were doodling on pads at opposite sides of the desk and all that the Inspector said was, “Yes?”

“Goldberg said he’d no sooner got off the phone in the coffee shop at 10 when Young signaled him from across the street and Goldie walked over and saw Mrs. Cazalis sitting at the soda counter — all by her lonesome. Goldie thought he was seeing things because he doesn’t spot Cazalis any place and he says to Young, Where’s our man, where’s our man? Young points to the back of the drugstore and Goldie sees Cazalis in a booth back there, phoning. Young told Goldberg that right after Goldie left Cazalis looked at his watch like he’d all of a sudden remembered something. Young said it was a great big take and it looked phony to him, Cazalis putting on an act to fool his wife. He said a few words — like he was excusing himself — gets off the stool, and goes to the back. He looks up a number in one of the phone books oh the rack, then he goes into the booth and makes a call. Time of entry into booth: 10:04.”