“Your conclusion is—”
“The only conclusion that makes sense. The shot was fired from inside this room. And who was in this room? King Bendigo and his wife — and you didn’t see any powder marks on his shirt, did you?”
Ellery stared at Karla Bendigo over his father’s shoulder.
“But of course,” murmured the Inspector, “you’ve known that all along.”
“Yes,” said Ellery. “But tell me: Where is the gun?”
“In this room.”
“Where in this room?”
“I don’t know where. But it’s here.”
“I’ve been over the room, Dad.”
“Not the way it ought to be gone over,” said his father tartly. “Not the way it’s going to be gone over... No, it’s not on her. Where would she hide a gun in that gown she’s wearing? Besides, when I carried her over to the chair and went to work on her in that phony faint she pulled, I made sure. I don’t like to take liberties with another man’s wife, but what can you do? It’s here, Ellery. It’s got to be. Nobody’s left the room. All we have to do is find it. Let’s get started.”
“All right,” said Ellery, pushing away from his corner. “Let’s.”
He said it without the least conviction.
They searched the room three times. The third time they divided it into sections and went at it by the inch. They got the key to the filing cases from Abel and they examined every drawer. They cleared each one, case by case, of suspicion of concealing a secret compartment. They went through every cubic inch of the interior of both desks, and they went over the desk legs and frames for hollow spaces. They climbed to the tops of the filing cases and fingered every inch of the walls. Ellery set the metal chair on the cases and went over the metallic frieze at the ceiling, following it all around the room. He examined the clock with special care. They determined the immovability of the cases, which were permanently attached to the walls. They took the two desk chairs apart. They dismantled the telephone. They probed the typewriter. They even examined the hospital table with the unconscious man on it, the sterilizer, Dr. Storm’s medical bag, and the other equipment that had been brought in after midnight.
There was no gun. There was no shell.
“It’s on one of them,” said the Inspector through his denture. He raised his voice. “We’re going to do a body-search. On everybody. I’m sorry, Mrs. Bendigo, but that includes you, too. And the first thing I’m going to ask you to do is take your hair down... You can console yourself with the thought that I’m an old man who thinks life’s greatest thrill is that first cup of coffee in the morning. Unless you people would like to call us off — here and now?”
Abel Bendigo said quietly, “I want to know about this. Start with me, Inspector.”
The Inspector searched Abel, Karla, and Max. Ellery searched Judah, Dr. Storm, and the man on the table. Ellery spent a great deal of time over the man on the table. He even contemplated the possibility of the bandages on that big torso as a place of concealment. But that possibility was an impossibility; a glance told him that. Dr. Storm hovered over him like an angry bantam.
“Careful! Oh, you idiot— No! If he dies, my fine fellow, you’re a murderer. What do I care about somebody’s gun!”
The gun was on none of them. Neither was the shell. Any shell.
The Inspector was bewildered. Ellery was grim. Neither said anything.
Abel began to pace.
Karla stood by the hospital table, her make-up smeared, her hair tangled, just touching her husband’s marble hand. Once she stroked his hair. Judah squatted in his corner sipping cognac peacefully; his glassy eyes were dull again. Max’l’s great shoulders had developed a droop.
Dr. Storm prepared another hypodermic.
The Queens stood by, watching.
Abel was working up to something. He kept glaring at Judah as he paced, apparently struggling with unfamiliar emotions and losing the struggle. Finally he lost control.
He sprang forward and seized Judah by the collar. The attack was unexpected, and Judah came up like a cork, clutching his bottle frantically. His teeth were gleaming, and for a horrible moment Ellery thought he was laughing.
“You drunken maniac,” Abel whispered. “How did you do it? I know that brain of yours — that diseased, dissatisfied brain! We were always too ordinary for you. You always hated us. Why didn’t you try to kill me, too? How did you do it!”
Judah put the bottle to his lips, eyes popping from the pressure on his neck. Abel snatched the bottle from him. “You’re not drinking any more tonight — ever, if I can help it! Did you really think you were going to be allowed to get away with this? What do you suppose King will do when he gets on his feet again?”
Judah glugged. His brother hurled him back against the cases. Judah slid to the floor and looked up.
He was laughing.
They searched everyone again before each left the room. Dr. Storm. King Bendigo, still unconscious on the table. Judah, lurching and grinning to himself. Max’l. Karla. Abel...
The Inspector did the searching and Ellery passed them out. One by one, so that there was no possibility of a trick. The Inspector also made a final search of the equipment that went out.
There was no gun. No shell.
“I don’t understand it,” said Abel, the last to leave. “And I’ve got to find out. My brother will want to know... I give you gentlemen full power. I’m telling Colonel Spring that in anything connected with this business he and his entire security force are under your orders.” He glanced at the bottle in his hand, and his lips thinned. “Don’t worry about Judah. I’ll see that he gets no further opportunity to do anyone any harm.”
He strode out, and Ellery made sure the door was locked.
Then he turned around. “Inspector Queen, I presume...”
“Very funny,” said his father bitterly. “Now what?”
“Now we really search,” said Ellery.
Forty-five minutes later they faced each other across King Bendigo’s desk.
“It’s not here,” said Ellery.
“Impossible,” said his father. “Impossible!”
“How was King shot? From outside this room?”
“Impossible!”
“From inside this room?”
“Impossible!”
“Impossible,” nodded Ellery. “Impossible from outside and impossible from inside — there’s positively no gun in this room.”
The Inspector was silent.
After a moment, Ellery said: “Ourselves.”
“What?”
“Search yourself, Dad!”
They searched themselves.
They searched each other.
No gun. No shell.
Ellery raised his right foot and deliberately kicked King Bendigo’s desk. “Let’s get out of here!”
They slammed the door of the Confidential Room and Ellery tried it for the last time.
It was locked.
There was no sign of Colonel Spring. Colonel Spring evidently preferred to transfer his authority in absentia.
“Captain!”
The captain of the guards hurried up. “Yes, sir.”
“I want some sealing wax and a candle.”
“Yes, sir.”
When they were brought, Ellery lit the candle, melted some of the wax, and smeared it thickly over the keyhole of the steel door. He waited a moment. Then he pressed his signet ring into the wax directly over the keyhole.
“Put a guard before this door day and night on three-hour tricks. That seal isn’t to be touched. If I find the seal broken—”
“Yes, sir!”
“I believe there’s a reserve key to the Confidential Room kept at the guard station up here? I want it.”