Calamity Town by Ellery Queen Page A

‘Nora dearest, you’re sure you’re all right?’
    â€˜Of course, Mother. All this fuss over a scare!’
    John F. was studying his son-in-law in a puzzled, secretive way. Jim seemed a little sheepish; he grinned vaguely.
    â€˜Where’s Carter, Pat?’ demanded Hermy. ‘Wasn’t he supposed to go with us to Town Hall tonight?’
    â€˜I’ve a headache, Muth. I phoned Cart to say I was going to bed. Night!’ Pat went quickly into the house.
    â€˜Come along, Smith,’ said John F. ‘There’s a good speaker—one of those war correspondents.’
    â€˜Thanks, Mr Wright, but I’ve some work on my novel. Have a nice time!’
    When Jim’s new car rolled off down the Hill, Mr Ellery Queen stepped off the Wright porch and, by the light of the pumpkin moon, noiselessly crossed the lawn. He circled Nora’s house once, inspecting the windows. All dark. Then Alberta had already left—Thursday night was her night off. Ellery opened the kitchen door with a skeleton key, locked it behind him and, using his flashlight sparingly, made his way through the hall to the living room. He climbed the stairs making no sound. At the landing, he paused, frowning. There was a luminous line under Nora’s bedroom door! He listened intently. Inside, drawers were being pulled open and pushed shut. A thief? Another Hallowe’en prank? Gripping the flashlight like a club, Ellery kicked the door open. Miss Patricia Wright screamed as she sprang from her stooped position over the lowest drawer of Nora’s vanity. ‘Hello,’ said Mr Queen affably.
    â€˜Worm!’ gasped Pat. ‘I thought I’d die .’ Then she blushed under his amused glance. ‘At least I have an excuse! I’m her sister. But you…you’re just a plain snoop, Mr Ellery Queen! ’
    Ellery’s jaw waggled. ‘You little demon,’ he said admiringly. ‘You’ve known me all along.’
    â€˜Of course,’ retorted Pat. ‘I heard you lecture once on The Place of the Detective Story in Contemporary Civilization . Very pompous it was, too.’
    â€˜Wellesley?’
    â€˜Sarah Lawrence. I thought at the time you were very handsome. Sic transit gloria . Don’t look so concerned. I shan’t give your precious incognito away.’ Mr Queen kissed her. ‘Mmm,’ said Pat. ‘Not bad. But inopportune…No, please, Ellery. Some other time. Ellery, those letters—you’re the only one I can confide in. Muth and Pop would worry themselves sick—’
    â€˜And Carter Bradford?’ suggested Mr Queen dryly.
    â€˜Cart,’ said Miss Wright, flushing, ‘is…well, I just wouldn’t want Cart to know anything’s wrong. If it is,’ she added quickly. ‘I’m not sure anything is.’
    Ellery said: ‘Yes, you are. Delicious lipstick.’
    â€˜Wipe it off. Yes,’ said Pat damply, ‘I am…Why didn’t Nora say what was in those letters?’ she burst out. ‘Why did she come back to the living room tonight without them? Why did she chase us all out of her bedroom? Ellery, I’m…scared.’
    Ellery squeezed her cold hands. ‘Let’s look for them.’
    He found them in one of Nora’s hatboxes. The hatbox lay on the shelf of Nora’s closet, and the three envelopes had been tucked between the tissue paper and the floor of the box beneath a little flowered hat with a saucy mauve veil.
    â€˜Very clumsy technique,’ mourned Mr Queen.
    â€˜Poor Nor,’ said Pat. Her lips were pale. ‘Let me see!’ Ellery handed her the three letters. In the upper right-hand corner of each envelope, where a stamp should have been, appeared a date written in red crayon. Pat frowned. Ellery took the envelopes from her and arranged them in chronological order, according to the crayoned dates. The dates were 11/28, 12/25, and 1/1. ‘And all