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“That’s right,” said Terry. “Why?”

“Did you see the bolt before he went to the attic door?”

“No. The Japanese screen was hiding it. I told him where the door was and he threw the screen aside.”

“His body was blocking the door, then? You didn’t see the bolt until he moved aside?”

“I didn’t see it then at all. He just told me—”

“Hey, wait a minute,” said Terry. “What the devil are you driving at, Queen?”

Ellery slumped back. “You know, I have the type of mind that simply will not digest an impossibility. I’m a chronic unbeliever, Terry.”

“Skip the embroidery!”

“Here’s a situation in which the facts say only one solution is possible. Hypothetically there are three exits from Karen Leith’s bedroom. One is a window — but the windows were iron-barred. One is the door to the attic — that, however, was bolted from inside the bedroom. The third is the sitting-room — but Eva says not a soul passed through it, and she didn’t leave it for an instant. Solution: Eva killed her aunt. She was the only one who could possibly have committed the murder. That is, if the basic facts are really true.”

“Well, she didn’t do it,” said Terry pugnaciously. “So what?”

“Patience, my boy. I’m arguing on the assumption, of course, that Eva is innocent.”

“Thank you,” said Eva ironically.

“Well, what facts have we? The windows — that was a fact I confirmed myself; they simply couldn’t have been used as an exit. The sitting-room — if we assume, as we do, that Eva is guiltless then we must also assume that she is telling the truth, and that no one did pass through. Consequently, we have left only the bolted door to the attic.” Ellery sat up. “And strangely enough, Terry, the evidence that the door was bolted cannot be confirmed.”

“I don’t get you,” said Terry slowly.

“I’m sure you do. How do we know the door was bolted when Eva entered the bedroom and found her aunt dying? Did she see it? No, the screen concealed it. Then you arrived, and eventually you flung the screen aside and announced that the door was bolted. Did Eva see it then? No! And shortly after that, she fainted. True, when she revived, she did see the bolt — you began wrestling with it, finding it apparently stuck — but only after she had been unconscious for some time.

“Who do you think you’re kidding?” Terry’s face was mahogany again. “She was out only a few seconds. And that bolt was stuck!”

“So you say,” murmured Ellery. “We’ve only your word for it.”

Eva was staring at the brown man now with a horrified inquiry; and he was so furious she thought he would blast Ellery across the room. But he controlled himself and said in a choked voice: “All right, let’s say for the sake of argument that I put one over on Eva. Let’s say the door wasn’t bolted when I looked, I only made believe it was. Why? What was my big idea?”

Ellery thrust a forkful of chow mein into his mouth. “If the door wasn’t bolted at all, the situation isn’t impossible. That’s one point in favor of the theory. It’s possible for someone to have got in through the attic, killed Karen, and escaped the same way.”

“But why should I lie about the bolt!”

“Suppose,” mumbled Ellery through the chow mein, ‘suppose you had stabbed Karen Leith.”

“You crazy — crackpot!” shouted Terry.

Fung ran up, wringing his hands. “Te’y! You no yell. You no make noises. You stop!”

“You go to hell!” yelled Terry. “I did it? Why, you—”

“Now, now, Terry, you haven’t the contemplative spirit. I’m only saying ‘suppose’”. Can’t you suppose calmly? If the attic door was really open all the time, then you could have been the one who got in by the attic route, stabbed Karen Leith while Eva sat waiting in the sitting-room, escaped by the attic, and then came back through the front of the house in order to bolt that door from inside the bedroom!”

“But why?”

“Oh, that’s of the very essence of simplicity. To frame Eva for the crime. To make her appear the only possible criminal.”

“Yah!” sneered Terry. “You’re off your nut. If I made believe the bolt was in the socket, then why the hell did I turn around and save the kid by pulling it out of the socket again?”

“Yes,” said Eva breathlessly. “That doesn’t make sense, Mr. Queen.”

“I don’t know about that,” said Ellery. “Mm, this is really excellent tripe... Well, you might have unframed your victim, Terry, after having first framed her, for the simplest reason in the world. Story-book reason. Sizzling Romances. Mush-mush. The grand and instantaneous passion. You fell in love with her. First sight, you know. Wei! Would you be kind enough to pour some more of this execrable wine?”

Eva turned cherry-red and fumbled with her fork. Fell in love! It was the most preposterous... He was so self-sufficient. Big and strong and defiant and confident. Terry Ring would never fall in love at first sight. Not he. He would be slow, careful, watchful. He’d always have a good reason... She glanced sideways at him and was startled to see him eating furiously, eyes on his plate, manipulating the chopsticks with a savage energy, while the tips of his small, delicate brown ears burned like redfire on election night.

“You see,” sighed Ellery, setting his glass down, “there’s a reason for everything.”

“Don’t talk to me,” snarled Terry. “I didn’t kill that woman. The bolt was in the socket. And I didn’t fall for any dame. Get me?”

“Well, don’t be so vehement about it,” said Ellery, rising. “It’s hardly complimentary to the young lady. Will you excuse me a moment? Wei, your telephone, if any.”

Wei gesticulated, and Ellery strolled through the archway into Fung’s supplementary establishment. Terry and Eva ate in silence, Terry with very Chinese gulps, Eva delicately and with absorption. The three old Chinese gentlemen in black hats glanced over at them and began to gabble suddenly in their contrapuntal tongue. Terry, who understood a little Cantonese, felt his ears burn more brightly. They were saying, it appeared, that the little flower of the brown white man had displeased him, to judge from his wrath, and that it were better to endure the Torture of a Thousand Cuts than to endure a woman who had grown unendurable.

“You know,” said Eva suddenly, “this is the first time we’ve ever been alone. I mean — since Monday.”

“Give me that rice.” He continued to flick chow mein into his mouth.

“I haven’t really thanked you, Terry, for being so wonderful to me. Don’t mind Mr. Queen. I think he was just trying to amuse himself. I know how silly—”

“What’s silly?” he demanded, throwing down the sticks.

Eva colored again. “I mean this love nonsense, and all that. I know why you helped me. You were sorry for me—”

Terry swallowed hard. “Listen, kid, he’s right.” He seized her hand. “First time I ever fell for a skirt, so help me! Poison to me, women. But I’m nuts about you. I can’t sleep or anything. I keep seeing you all the time!”

“Terry!” said Eva, snatching her hand away and looking around. The three Chinese gentlemen shook their heads. The ways of the white man were ever mysterious.

“I never thought I’d fall for a girl like you, anyway. I’ve always liked the big ones. I mean — you know — plenty of what it takes. You’re so damned skinny—”