Read Online The Glass Village by Ellery Queen - Free Book Online

that once stood on this property. The past, she couldn’t get away from the past even in death.”
    Who can? thought Johnny.
    â€œEven this room. It was originally the kitchen and it’s as old as the house. When Girshom died and she began to paint she blocked off the east end for a small modern kitchen and turned the balance into a studio. Knocked out the north and west walls for light, had a new floor laid, supply cabinets built … But she left the old fireplace. Said she couldn’t live without it.” Judge Shinn laughed. “Instead, it killed her.”
    â€œTwo-thirteen,” said Burney Hackett.
    â€œI know, Constable,” Johnny said softly. “You didn’t touch the locket?”
    â€œNope.” Hackett’s tone was stiff.
    The oldfashioned locket-watch on its gold chain that Johnny had noticed Fanny Adams wearing the previous day was still around her neck. It had died, too. One wild, mad blow had missed her head and scraped down the front of her, smashing the cameo and springing the locket-face, so that the face stood open and the cracked and silenced dial with its delicate roman numerals fixed the moment of eternity. Two-thirteen, it said. Thirteen minutes past the second hour of the afternoon of Saturday, July the fifth. The sooty streak left by the tip of the poker on the battered watch case was as definite as a crossmark on a calendar.
    Johnny rose.
    â€œHow did you find her, Burney?” Judge Shinn had turned back now, his long Yankee face hardened against the world, or perhaps himself.
    Hackett said: “I been after Aunt Fanny for a long time to buy herself adequate p’tection for her pictures. Lyman Hinchley’d wrote her up for fire insurance on the house and furnishin’s, but not near enough to cover all them paintin’s she’s got around. Most a hundred in that slidin’ closet, worth a fortune.
    â€œWell, yesterday at the party I fin’ly talked her into lettin’ me cover the market value of the pictures. So today I ran over to Cudbury to see Lyman Hinchley ’bout an up-to-date comprehensive policy plan, and I got all the figgers and come back here to put ’em to her. That’s when I found her layin’ here like you see.”
    â€œWhat time was that, Burney?”
    â€œâ€™Bout a minute or two before I phoned you, Judge.”
    â€œWe’d better call the coroner in Cudbury.”
    â€œNo need to call him, ” said Burney Hackett quickly. “I already phoned Doc Cushman in Comfort while I was waitin’ for you to get here.”
    â€œBut Cushman’s merely the coroner’s deputy for Comfort, Burney,” said Judge Shinn patiently. “This is a criminal death, directly in the county coroner’s jurisdiction. Cushman will merely have to call Barnwell in Cudbury.”
    â€œCushman ain’t callin’ nobody,” said Hackett. “I didn’t tell him nothin’ but to get over here right away.”
    â€œWhy not, for heaven’s sake?” The Judge was exasperated.
    â€œJust didn’t have a mind to.” The underdeveloped chin suddenly jutted.
    Judge Shinn stared at him. As he stared, a wailing scream began that grew and grew until it filled the house.
    It was the village fire siren.
    â€œWho set that off?”
    â€œI just phoned Peter Berry to send Calvin Waters over to the firehouse and start it goin’. That’ll bring everybody in.”
    â€œIt certainly will!” The Judge turned abruptly to the kitchen door. “Excuse me, Burney …” The chinless man did not budge. “Burney, get out of my way. I have to phone the state police, the sheriff—”
    â€œWon’t be necessary, Judge,” said Hackett.
    â€œYou’ve already called?”
    â€œNope.”
    â€œBurn Hackett, don’t fuddle me,” exclaimed the Judge. “I’m not exactly myself just now. This is a murder case. The proper