Egyptian Cross Mystery (39 page)

“You’re a valuable companion, Professor. I’m glad you brought that up,” said Ellery briskly, sitting erect. “Of course it wasn’t coincidence, as I explained inferentially the day we had our first talk in your friend’s
selamik
—how I love that word! Can’t you see the logical inferences from the facts? Krosac was not a myth, he was reality. He learned that one of the Tvars was in Arroyo, West Virginia; it isn’t fanciful to say, therefore, that the same ‘anonymous’ letter which Van wrote also told Krosac where the other Tvars were—Brad in Long Island, Megara living with Brad. There could be no hitch in Van’s own plot; Van knew that Krosac was traveling about with Stryker in Illinois, or even farther west, and that since he had to pass through West Virginia on his way East, he would tackle the schoolmaster first.

“Very well. Krosac,” we must believe, is himself, not altogether the fool. He is going to kill first the Tvar calling himself Andrew Van, and then the Tvars calling themselves Brad and Megara. He knows, too, that the murder of the poor ‘unsuspecting’ schoolmaster, Van, will raise a hullabaloo, and that it will be necessary for him to hide out. Conclusion: why not hide out in the vicinity of his second and third victims’ dwelling? So he looks in the New York papers, finds old Ketcham’s ad for the rental of Oyster Island, gets poor Stryker to agree to go there and start a sun cult, leases the Island by mail long in advance. … You see what happens? Krosac is himself murdered. Stryker,
le pauvre innocent,
aware of none of the nuances, hooks up with equally innocent Romaine, shows Romaine the lease to Oyster Island, and out they go. Which explains the presence of the sun worshipers and nudists on Oyster Island.”

“By God,” exclaimed the Inspector, “Van couldn’t have arranged things better if he wanted Stryker a suspect!”

“And that reminds me,” said the Professor thoughtfully. “That Egyptian business, Queen. You don’t suggest that there was any preconceived plan in Van’s mind to tie up old Stryker’s Egyptology with the murders?”

“Thanks to you,” said Ellery with a grin, “I suggest nothing of the sort. Come to think of it, I made something of an ass of myself on that ‘Egyptian cross’ peroration of mine, didn’t I, Professor?” He sat up suddenly and slapped his thigh. “Dad, a perfectly cataclysmic thought!”

“Listen,” snapped the Inspector, his good humor quite deserting him, “now that
I
come to think of it, you must have spent half the Queen bank account hiring airplanes and whatnot on that wild and woolly chase of yours up, down, and across country. Do I have to foot the bill?”

Ellery chuckled. “Let me apply logic to the problem. I have one of three courses open. The first is to charge my expenses to Nassau County.” He looked at District Attorney Isham, who, started, began to speak, and finally sank back with an uncomfortable and rather silly grin on his stout face. “No, I see that—to say the least—is impracticable. The second: to stand the loss myself.” He shook his head and pursed his lips. “No, that’s much too philanthropic. … I told you I had a cataclysmic thought.”

“Well,” grumbled Inspector Vaughn, “if you can’t put it down on a swindle sheet, and you won’t stand it yourself, I’ll be damned if I see how—”

“My dear Inspector,” drawled Ellery, “I’ll write a book about it, call it as a memento of my sometimes impulsive erudition
The Egyptian Cross Mystery,
and let the public pay for it!”

Si finis bonus est,

Totum bonum erit.

—
GESTA ROMANORUM

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 1932, 1960 by Ellery Queen

cover design by Jim Tierney

978-1-4532-8938-9

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