A Study in Terror

Ellery Continues

Ellery raised his eyes from the manuscript. Grant Ames, III, was at the scotch again.

“You will be cut down eventually,” Ellery said, “by a pickled liver.”

“Killjoy,” Ames said. “But at the moment I feel myself a part of history, son. An actor under the Great Proscenium.”

“Drinking himself to death?”

“Bluenose. I’m talking of the manuscript. In the year 1888 Sherlock Holmes received a mysterious surgeon’s-kit. He trained his marvelous talents on it and began one of his marvelous adventures. Three-quarters of a century later, another package is delivered to another famous detective.”

“What’s your point?” grumbled Ellery, visibly torn between Dr. Watson’s manuscript and the empty typewriter.

“All that remains to complete the historic rerun is to train the modern talent on the modern adventure. Proceed, my dear Ellery. I’ll function as Watson.”

Ellery squirmed.

“Of course, you may challenge my bona fides. In substantiation, I point out that I have followed the Master’s career faithfully.”

That pierced the fog. Ellery studied his guest distastefully. “Really? All right, wise guy. Quote: ‘It was in the spring of the year 1894 and all London was interested, and the fashionable world dismayed, by the murder of the―’? ”

“ ‘―Honourable Ronald Adair.’ Unquote,” said Ames promptly. “The Adventure of the Empty House, fromThe Return of Sherlock Holmes.”

“Quote: ‘She had drawn a little gleaming revolver and emptied barrel after barrel into―’ ”

“ ‘―Milverton’s body, the muzzle within two feet of his shirt-front.’ Unquote. The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton.”

“You scintillate, Watson! Quote: ‘These are the trodden, but not the downtrodden. These are the lowly, but never the low.’ ”

“Unquote.” The playboy yawned. “Your efforts to trap me are childish, my dear Ellery. You quoted yourself, from The Player on the Other Side.”

Ellery scowled at him. The fellow was not all overstuffed blondes and expensive scotch. “Touche, touche. Now let’s see―I’m sure I can stick you―”

“I’m sure you can if you stall long enough, but that’s exactly what I’m not going to let you do. Go into your act, Mr. Queen. You’ve read the first chapter of the manuscript. If you don’t come up with some Queenian deductions, I’ll never borrow a book of yours again.”

“All I can tell you at the moment is that the handwriting purporting to be Watson’s is precise, firm, and a little crabbed.”

“You don’t sound like Holmes to me, old buddy. The question is, is it Watson’s? Is the manuscript the McCoy? Come, come, Queen! Apply your powers.”

“Oh, shut up,” Ellery said, and he went on reading.