Read Online Queen’s Bureau of Investigation by Ellery Queen - Free Book Online Page B

case, Inspector Burke?”
    â€œYes, and then again no,” said the Scotland Yard man dourly. “‘All hoods make not monks,’ as Katherine points out in Henry VIII . I’m here hunting a bad one, right enough; but the thing is, he’s waiting for me—and, what’s more, when I catch the blighter I’m going to have to let him go.”
    â€œWhy?” asked Ellery, astonished.
    â€œSeems like a long trip, Burke,” grinned Inspector Queen, “for mere exercise.”
    â€œâ€˜Necessity’s sharp pinch,’ gentlemen.” The Englishman’s sad eyes turned sharp. “It’s rather a yarn. A certain young woman in London—daughter of someone very highly placed—is shortly to announce her betrothal to a man very much in the international eye. The principals are so distinguished that—well, the match couldn’t have been made without the consent of Whitehall, which is all I’m free to say about it at this time.
    â€œA year or so ago this girl, who is charming but headstrong and overromantic,” continued the British policeman, “wrote seven highly indiscreet letters to a man with whom she was then infatuated.
    â€œNow the position of the girl’s fiancé is such that, should those letters get to him or become public knowledge, he would be forced to break the engagement, and the resulting scandal would almost certainly create a nasty diplomatic situation in an extremely sensitive political area. ‘Great floods from simple sources,’ you know!
    â€œWhen the girl’s … family learned about the letters, they took immediate steps to retrieve them. But there was the rub. The man to whom they’d been written no longer had them. They had just been stolen from him.”
    â€œHm,” said Ellery’s father.
    â€œNo, no, Queen, he’s above suspicion. Besides, we know the identity of the thief. Or rather,” said Inspector Burke gloomily, “we’re positive he’s one of three men.”
    â€œParties of our acquaintance?” asked Ellery.
    â€œUndoubtedly, Mr. Queen, if you’ve browsed through your Rogues’ Gallery recently. They’re all Americans. One is the international jewel thief and society impersonator, William Ackley, Jr., alias Lord Rogers, alias le Comte de Crécy; another is the confidence man, J. Phillip Benson, alias John Hammerschmidt, alias Phil the Penman; the third is Walter Chase, the transatlantic cardsharp.”
    The Queens exchanged glances; Ackley, Benson, and Chase were three of Center Street’s incurable headaches.
    â€œWhen the matter was turned over to the Yard, very hush-hush, I was placed in charge, and I bungled it.” Inspector Burke’s sensitive face flushed. “Word leaked out that something big was in the wind, and all sorts of mugs with guilty consciences ran for cover before we could tighten our lines. Among them were Benson, Chase, and Ackley—all three got away to the States. One of them—exactly which one we haven’t been able to determine—subsequently made contact, with demands and instructions, and I’m here to pay him off.”
    Inspector Queen clucked. “When and where, Burke?”
    â€œTonight, in my hotel room. I’m to hand him twenty thousand pounds in American dollars—in exchange, of course, for the letters. So tonight I’ll know which of the three he is—and much good will it do me.” The Englishman rose, tightening his lips. “And that’s my tale of woe, Queen. I must ask you not to go near any of the trio—really my chief reason for stopping by. We can’t risk another slip. Those letters must be repossessed and returned to England to be destroyed.”
    â€œCan we give you any help?”
    â€œNo, no. Unless I botch it again—in which case,” said Inspector Burke with a twisted smile, “you might offer me a job sweeping out your