Queens Full by Ellery Queen Page B

lip.
    â€œBy the testimony, then, someone bit into the tape after Benedict entered his dressing room and before we found him. In other words, during the murder period.” Ellery began to unwrap his package. “The one person who we know beyond dispute handled the knife during the murder period was the murderer. It’s a reasonable conclusion that the impressions were made by the murderer’s teeth.”
    Chief Newby’s teeth were locked. But Odham said, “Go on, Mr. Queen, go on.”
    Out of the wrappings Ellery took a roll of new black plastic friction tape and a large hunting knife. He stripped the cellophane from the roll and handed roll and knife to Roger. “You taped the original knife, Rodge. Do a repeat on this one.” Roger set to work. “Meanwhile, Joan, I’d like you to take a close look at the original.”
    Joan got up and walked over to Newby. She seemed calmer than the chief.
    She really has talent, Ellery thought. “Notice the exact position of the marks relative to the edge of the handle.”
    â€œAbout an eighth of an inch from the edge.”
    â€œYes. Oh, thanks.” Ellery took the test knife from Roger and gave it to Joan. “I want you to take two bites. First with your front teeth about an eighth of an inch from the edge, as in the other one.” He looked at her. “Go ahead, Joan.”
    But Joan stood painfully still.
    â€œThe moment of truth, Joan?” Ellery said with a smile. “Then try the Method. You’re a pirate and you’re boarding the fat Spanish galleon with a knife in your teeth, like any self-respecting buccaneer.” He said sharply, “Do it.”
    Joan breathed in, placed the haft to her mouth, and bit into it firmly. Ellery took it from her at once and examined the marks. “Good! Now I want you to take a second bite—well clear of the first, Joan, so the two don’t overlap. This time, though, make it a full bite.”
    When she returned the knife Ellery ran to the window. “May I have the other one, Chief?” He was already studying the test impressions through his lens. Newby, quite pale, brought the murder weapon, Odham at his heels.
    Joan and Roger remained where they were, in a dreadful quiet.
    â€œSee for yourselves.”
    The police chief peered, squinted, compared. He went back to his desk for a transparent ruler. He made a great many deliberate measurements. When he was through examining the upper surfaces of the hafts he turned the knives over and did it all again.
    Finally he looked up. “I guess, Mr. Odham,” he said in a rather hollow voice, “you’d best check these yourself.”
    The Prosecutor seized knives and lens. Afterward, there was a glint of anger in his eyes. “No impressions of any two adjoining teeth, either in the matching bite or the full set, are identical with the impressions on the murder knife. Same sort of marks, all right, but entirely different in detail—not as wide, not the same spacing—there can’t be any doubt about it. You have a lot to thank Mr. Queen for, Miss Truslow. And so do we, Anse. I’ll be talking to you later.”
    Not until Odham was gone did Joan’s defenses crumble. She sank into Roger’s arms, sobbing.
    Ellery turned to the window, waiting for Newby’s explosion. To his surprise nothing happened, and he turned back. There was the slender little chief, slumped on his tail, feet on desk, looking human.
    â€œI sure had it coming, Queen,” he said ruefully. “What gripes me most is having put all my eggs in one basket. Boom.”
    Ellery grinned. “I’ve laid my quota of omelets. Do you know anyone in this business who hasn’t?”
    Newby got to his feet. “Well, now what? Between Benedict’s putting the finger on this girl and your removing it, I’m worse off than when I started. Can you make any sense out of this, Queen?”
    â€œTo a