“Well!” said the Judge quietly. “We’re in something messy up to our respective necks. Ellery, this is Rosa Godfrey, daughter of that old robber-baron on Spanish Cape!”
There were violet shadows under her closed eyes. And her hair had come loose, tumbling about her face like black silk. She looked horribly tired and worn.
“Poor child,” murmured Judge Macklin. “Thank heaven, she’s breathing normally. Let’s get her out of this atrocious harness, Ellery.”
They released her with the aid of Ellery’s penknife, raised her limp soft body between them, carried her into the bedroom, and deposited her upon the bed. She moaned a little as the Judge bathed her face with water Ellery fetched from the kitchen. The wound on her temple was very slight, a superficial scratch. It was evident that she had been sitting by the window in the chair to which she had been bound, had fainted and relaxed, and the sudden movement had upset the chair so that she had fallen with it to strike her temple against the rough cement floor.
“I admire your robber-baron’s taste in daughters,” murmured Ellery.
“Very beautiful young wench. I approve.” He chafed her numb hands with enthusiasm; the cords had bitten deeply.
“Poor child,” said the Judge again, and bathed the blood away from her temple. She shivered and moaned once more, her lids fluttering. Ellery went away, found a medicine chest, and returned with a bottle of iodine. At the sting of the antiseptic she gasped and opened her eyes enormously, staring with horror.
“There, there, dear,” soothed the Judge, “you needn’t be frightened any more. You’re with friends. I’m Judge Macklin — you remember two summers ago? Judge Macklin. Don’t exert yourself, child; you’ve had a wretched experience.”
“Judge Macklin!” she panted, trying to sit up. She sank back with a groan, but the horror drained out of her blue eyes. “Oh, thank God. Thank God. Have they — have they found David?”
“David?”
“My uncle. David Kummer! He isn’t — don’t tell me he’s dea...” She put the back of her hand to her mouth and stared at them.
“We don’t know, my dear,” said the Judge gently, patting her other hand. “You see, we’ve just come; and there you were in the living-room tied to a chair. Please rest, Miss Godfrey, and meanwhile we’ll notify your father and mother—”
“You don’t understand!” she cried, and stopped. “Is this the Waring cottage?”
“Yes,” said the old man, astonished.
She looked at the window; the sunlight painted the floor. “And it’s morning! I’ve been here all night. The most dreadful thing’s happened.” Then she bit her lip and flashed a queer glance at Ellery. “Is it all right— Who is this, Judge Macklin?”
“A very dear young friend of mine,” said the Judge hastily. “Allow me to present Mr. Ellery Queen. As a matter of fact, he has something of a reputation as a detective. If anything drastic has happened—”
“Detective,” she repeated in a bitter voice. “I’m afraid it’s too late for that.” She sank back on the pillow and closed her eyes. “But let me tell you what happened, Mr. Queen. Who knows?” She shivered and opened her startling blue eyes again and began to tell the story of the wicked giant.
The two men listened with drawn brows, silent and troubled. She spoke clearly and left nothing out but the substance of her conversation with her uncle on the terrace before the arrival of the giant. And when she had finished they looked at each other, and Ellery sighed, and went out of the room.
When he returned the slim dark girl had swung her feet off the bed and was attempting in an absent way to tidy herself. She had smoothed her crumpled organdie and was fixing her hair. But at Ellery’s step she sprang to her feet. “Well, Mr. Queen?”
“There’s nothing outside that puts a fresh complexion on anything you’ve told us, Miss Godfrey,” he murmured, offering her a cigaret. She refused, and he lit one himself absently. The Judge did not smoke. “The cruiser is gone and there’s no sign of either your uncle or the man who spirited him away. The only clue is that car, which is still outside; and I don’t believe we’ll get much out of that.”
“Probably stolen,” muttered the Judge. “He wouldn’t have left it if it were traceable to him.”
“But he was so — so stupid!” cried Rosa. “He’d be capable of anything!”
“I agree,” said Ellery with a sorry smile, “that he can’t be very brilliant, if what you’ve told us is true. Quite a remarkable story, by the way, Miss Godfrey; almost incredible.”
“A monster of that size—” The Judge’s nostrils were quivering again. “He’ll be easy enough to identify. And that patch over one eye—”
“It might be a false one. Although I can’t see... It’s that telephone call he made that’s most interesting, Miss Godfrey. You’re sure you can’t give us a clue to the person he called?”
“Oh, I wish I could,” she panted, clenching her fists.
“Hmm. I think it’s fairly clear in its broad outline.” Ellery took a turn about the room, frowning. “This huge and stupid creature was hired by some one to kidnap your Mr. John Marco, who seems to be a very lucky chap all round. In the absence of a photograph, possibly, Marco was described roughly to your captor; does Marco generally wear whites for dinner, Miss Godfrey?”
“Yes, oh, yes!”
“Then unfortunately your uncle, who, you say, bears a superficial resemblance to Marco in build and size, also dressed in whites last night and innocently became the victim of a mistake in identity. By the way, Miss Godfrey — you’ll forgive me, I’m sure — has it been your custom to stroll out with Mr. Marco after dinner — perhaps to the terrace you described?”
Her eyes fell. “Yes.”
Ellery regarded her curiously for a moment. “Then you contributed, too. A ghastly tragedy of errors. This man came, blindly faithful to his instructions, refused to believe that your uncle was not Marco, and there you are. The telephone call is immensely important, since it establishes the hireling nature of your assailant. Apparently, too, he was commanded to report from the cottage. This place mades an ideal base of operations, deserted as it is and with a cruiser handy in the boathouse. The giant is quite obviously the merest tool.”
“But whom might he have been telephoning?” asked the Judge quietly.
Ellery shrugged. “If we knew that—”
They were all silent, and they were all thinking the same thing. A local telephone, the proximity of the mansion on Spanish Cape...
“What,” whispered Rosa, “do you think will — will happen to David?”
The Judge averted his face. Ellery said gently: “I see no point in ignoring the self-evident truth, Miss Godfrey. According to your story this big fellow said over the ‘phone: ‘He won’t bother you any more,’ or something like that. I referred to the crime before as a kidnaping. I’m afraid I was trying to spare your feelings, Miss Godfrey. What your captor said doesn’t sound at all like an abduction. It sounds brutally like — finale.”
Rosa choked something down and lowered her eyes; there was a sick look on her white face.
“I’m afraid so, my dear,” muttered the Judge.
“However,” continued Ellery in a more cheerful voice, “there’s no sense in anticipating. Anything may have happened or may still happen; at any rate, the whole affair’s a job for your regular police. They’re already at Spanish Cape, you know, Miss Godfrey.”
“They-are?”
“Two police cars were seen entering the grounds only a short time ago.” He looked at his cigaret. “In a way, our stumbling in here may have bungled matters. Whomever the big chap called, that person was apparently intending to see to it that you were released, Miss Godfrey, before any real harm came to you. You said your Goliath mentioned it over the ‘phone. Now, I’m afraid, it may be too late.” He shook his head. “On second thought, perhaps not. It’s possible that the instigator of this nasty business has already discovered his hireling’s blunder in nabbing the wrong man. That would make him lie low...” He went to one of the windows, opened it, and rather abruptly hurled his cigaret out. “Don’t you think, Miss Godfrey, you should notify your mother that you’re safe? She must be frantic.”