Read Online The Devil To Pay by Ellery Queen - Free Book Online

trip. Well, I parked and began to climb out. As I was stepping off backwards, something hit me on the side of the head. That’s all.”
    “We found Spaeth unconscious just after we got here,” explained the Inspector. “On the sidewalk near his car. So you never even got into the grounds?”
    “I told you what happened,” said Walter.
    “Why’d you park around the corner from the entrance? Why didn’t you drive right in?”
    “The mob. I thought I’d stand a better chance of getting inside unrecognized if I went on foot. My name is Spaeth, Inspector.” His lips twisted.
    “There wasn’t any mob. There wasn’t a soul near the place late this afternoon, the night man says.”
    “I didn’t know that.”
    “So you were bumped on the head around five-thirty?”
    “Just about.”
    “Any idea who hit you?”
    “The assault came as a complete surprise.”
    “Who do you think it was?”
    “How the hell should I know?” growled Walter. But it was remarkable how he kept looking at Val. Just looking, with the oddest wooden expression.
    Val scuffed Solly’s silky antique Indian rug with her toe. Walter didn’t enter the grounds. He was attacked before he entered the grounds. That’s what he said. That’s what he wanted the police to believe. But Val knew he had entered the grounds. She had spoken to him on the telephone, and he had been on the other end of the wire—Hillcrest 2411, his father’s number. It had been Walter, all right; Val knew his voice better than—better than— Walter had been in the house . She studied the intricate floral design. In the house. In the house, for all she knew right at this very extension in the study, where his father had been murdered. … He was lying. Lying.
    “Come here without a coat, Spaeth?” asked Glücke absently, eyeing him.
    “What?” mumbled Walter. “Oh, coat? No, I didn’t wear a coat, Inspector.” And he glanced at Val again, and at her father, with that mute wooden expression.
    I know! thought Val. He’s hidden it. He hid the coat. He didn’t want to get her father mixed up in it. Walter, you darling. … But then she thought; He’s lying. He lied about one thing. Now he was lying about another. Where was the coat? What had he done with that coat? Rhys’s hand lightly brushed her skirt. She glanced up at him; his brown face was a little pale, but his lips were compressed and he shook his head ever so lightly.
    “May I sit down?” asked Val in a tight voice. “Or is this part of the celebrated third degree?”
    Glücke waved an indifferent arm and Val felt a chair pushed against her. She looked around; it was that Mr. Queen, smiling sympathy and encouragement. But there was something else in his smile, something that made Valerie sit down suddenly and stare straight ahead at the fireplace. He had noticed. His eyes, which were like washed gray grapes, had noticed the interplay. They would have to be careful. Watch your step. Don’t make a mistake. It’s like being trapped in a cave by wild animals; the least false move… Valerie had never been trapped in a cave by wild animals, but she thought she knew how it must feel.
    “Any clue to Spaeth’s assailant, Inspector?” asked Mr. Queen amiably.
    “We found one of those rustic benches up against the willow fence inside the grounds near the spot where Spaeth’s car was parked. A little scraped mud on it, so it was stepped on. That looks as if whoever sloughed Spaeth came over the fence from inside. Laying for you, hey, Spaeth?”
    Walter looked blank. “He wouldn’t know, of course,” said Mr. Queen.
    “I guess not,” said Inspector Glücke. “McMahon, get Ruhig and Walewski in here.”
    Anatole Ruhig came in gingerly, with small arched steps, like a man walking on coals of fire. Val restrained a mad impulse to giggle; it was the first time she had ever noticed his shoes, which had built-up heels, like a cowboy’s. She wondered if he wore corsets; no, she was sure of it. Oh, the coat,