Max’l was straddling a chair the wrong way, his chin on his hairy hands. Only his eyes moved, following like a watchdog’s the movements of Judah Bendigo’s hands. An empty bottle of Segonzac lolled on Judah’s desk. Judah was opening a fresh bottle. He had torn away the tax stamp and was just running the blade of a pocket-knife around the hard wax seal. He paid no attention to the troglodyte, and he did not look up when Ellery came in.
Ellery spent the rest of the day trying to save Judah Bendigo’s soul. But Judah was doomed. He did not resist salvation; he shrugged it down. He was looking more like a corpse than ever — a corpse who had died of violence, for his cheek-bone was bruised, swollen, and purple from its encounter with the dining-room wall, and a split lip gave his mouth a sneering grin such as Ellery frequently saw at the morgue.
“I’m not enjoying this, Ellery, really I’m not. I don’t care for the idea of killing my brother any more than you do. But someone has to do the dirty job, and I’m tired of waiting for the Almighty.”
“Once you shed his blood, how do you differ from King, Judah?”
“I’m an executioner. Executioners are among the most respectable of public servants.”
“Executioners do their work by sanction of law. Self-appointed executioners are simply murderers.”
“Law? On Bendigo Island?” Judah permitted his ragged mustache to lift. “Oh, I admit the circumstances are unusual. But that’s just the point. There are no sanctions I can evoke here except the decent opinions of mankind, as expressed in a handful of historic documents. The conscience of civilization has appointed me.”
At another time — toward dusk — Judah interrupted Ellery to say, simply, “You’re wasting your breath. My mind is made up.”
It was at this point that it occurred to Ellery that Judah Bendigo was talking like a man who expects to consummate his crime.
“Let me understand you, Judah. Granted the firmness of your resolve, hasn’t it sunk home that you’ve been detected in advance? You don’t think we’re sitting by and letting you execute your plan, whatever it is? Max’l alone in this room with you would be enough to thwart whatever you have in mind. There’s going to be no murder, Judah.” By this time Ellery was talking as if Judah were a child. “We simply can’t allow it, you know.”
Judah sipped some cognac and smiled. “There’s nothing you can do to stop me.”
“Oh, come. I’ll admit that a man bent on violence may sooner or later find an opening, no matter what precautions are taken. But we know the exact time and place—”
Judah waved a thin white hand. “It doesn’t matter.”
“What doesn’t matter?”
“That you know the time and place. If I cared whether you knew or not, I’d never have written the note.”
“You’ll do it in spite of the fact that we’re forewarned?”
“Oh, yes.”
“At that time? In that place?” exclaimed Ellery.
“Midnight tonight. The Confidential Room.”
Ellery looked at him. “So that’s it. You have another plan entirely. This was all a red herring to foul up the trail.”
Judah seemed offended. “Nothing of the sort! I give you my word. That would spoil it. Don’t you see that?”
“No.”
Judah shrugged and tipped his bottle again.
“Of course, none of this is really necessary,” Ellery said, “since you have my personal assurance you won’t leave this room tonight and your brother King won’t enter it. So I can afford to play games, Judah. Tell me this: You announced the time of the murder, we know the exact place — if you stick to your word about the time — so do you mind telling me by what means you intend to kill your brother?”
“Don’t mind at all,” said Judah. “I’m going to shoot him.”
“With what?”
“With one of my favorite guns.”
“Nonsense,” said Ellery irritably. “My father and I have searched these rooms twice today, and neither of us is exactly a novice at this sort of thing. Including, if you’ll recall, a very thorough body-search. There is no gun on these premises, and no ammunition of any kind.”
“Sorry. There’s a fully loaded gun right under your nose.”
“Here? Now?”
“It’s not six feet from where you’re standing.”
Ellery looked around rather wildly. But then he caught himself and grinned. “I must watch that trick of yours. It’s unsettling.”
“No trick. I mean it.”
Ellery stopped grinning. “I consider this downright nasty of you, Judah. Now, on the off-chance that you may be telling the truth, I’ve got to search the place all over again.”
“I’ll save you the trouble. I don’t mind telling you where the gun is. It won’t make any difference.”
It won’t make any difference... “Where is it, Judah?” Ellery asked in a kindly voice.
“In Max’l’s pocket, where I slipped it when you started searching.”
Max’l jerked erect. He began to paw at his coat pocket. Ellery ran over, flung his hand aside, and explored the pocket himself. It was crowded with pieces of candy, nuts, and other objects Ellery’s fingers could not identify; but among the sticky odds and ends there was a hard cold something. He drew it out.
Max’l glared at it.
It was a rather silly-looking automatic pistol. It was so snubnosed it could be concealed in a man’s hand, for the barrel was only about one inch long — the entire length of the weapon was scarcely four inches. It was a German Walther of .25 caliber. For all its womanish size, Ellery knew it for a deadly little weapon, and this one had a used look. The ivory inlays on the stock were rubbed and yellow with handling, and the right side of the grip was chipped — a triangular bit of the ivory was missing from the lower right corner.
Judah was gazing at it fondly. “Beauty, isn’t it?”
The automatic was fully loaded. Ellery emptied the magazine and chamber, dropped the little Walther into his pocket, and went to the door. By the time he had unlocked and opened it, Inspector Queen blocked the doorway.
“What’s the matter, Ellery?”
“I’ve extracted Judah’s teeth.” Ellery put the cartridges in his father’s hand. “Hold on to these for me.”
“Where the devil— Maybe he’s got more!”
“If he has, they’re not in there. But I’ll look again.”
Ellery relocked the door and regarded Judah thoughtfully. Why had he disclosed where the gun was? Was it a trick designed to head off still another search which would turn up a second gun — the gun Judah had intended to use from the beginning?
Ellery said to Max’l, “Watch him,” which was quite unnecessary, and searched Judah’s two rooms and bath again. Judah kept drinking with every appearance of indifference. He made no protest when Ellery insisted on another body search. Afterwards, he redressed and reached for the bottle again.
There was no other gun, not a single cartridge.
Ellery sat down facing the thin little figure and looked it over searchingly. The man was either insane or so fogged with alcohol that he could no longer distinguish between fancy and reality. For practical purposes it really did not matter which. If the German automatic was the weapon he had meant to use, its teeth were drawn; Judah would not and could not leave the room; and it had been arranged between the Queens, with Abel Bendigo’s unqualified consent, that King Bendigo would be prevented by force, if necessary, from crossing the threshold of Judah’s quarters.
There was simply no way for the dedicated assassin to kill the tyrant. And if Judah’s antics masked a plan whereby some bribed or hired killer was to attempt the murder, that was taken care of, too.