Read Online The Player on the Other Side by Ellery Queen - Free Book Online

happened up here today … as usual.
    Anything happen? the Inspector thought. Oh, yes. A 183-ticket scofflaw happened. A bakery-truck driver allowed his eleven-year-old son to watch him blow off the mother’s head with a 12-gauge shotgun; that happened. And two good officers were in critical condition, beaten up by what looked like the total population of the slum block in which they were picking up a pusher; there’s a human-interest problem for you. And then there was the mysterious case of the teenager, a little girl really, who had already found out so much about life that she drank an incredible quantity of gasoline and was being rushed to the hospital when the ambulance struck a taxicab, killing both drivers, the taxi fare, the intern — everybody involved but the terrified kid, who would survive. And the thirty-year man the Inspector had known since the days when the police stables had dirt floors and smelled of honest horse instead of carbolic acid — a Captain now — he was caught today with his hand in the till; and what would you do with that, my son?
    â€˜Nothing,’ the old man said to his son.
    â€˜Rats,’ Ellery said. ‘I was hoping …’
    This was the interchange, spoken and unspoken, this was the moment when the Inspector’s containment could contain no more and the sluice spilled over, not silently.
    â€˜Well, what do you know,’ Inspector Queen said in a loud voice. ‘You were hoping ,’ and the sluice-gate opened and out it poured, in a snarling rush. ‘You were hoping I’d bring you a present, little boy? Some nice chewy chocolate-covered goodie hot off Centre Street?’
    Ellery took his feet down and swung about to look. An unbelievable pugnacity in his father’s stance, weight shifted forward not quite to the balls of the feet, heels not quite raised …
    â€˜Hey,’ Ellery said, jumping up.
    â€˜So you can get off your backside! What did you do all day?’
    Ellery said, ‘I —’
    â€˜What else did you use that typewriter for besides something to lean your elbows on?’
    Ellery said again, ‘I —’
    â€˜How many cups of coffee did you drink today? How many packs of lung-buster did you smoke? Do you know how this room stinks? Ever hear of opening a window? It looks like one of those test chambers at Air Pollution Control in here! What’s got into you, Ellery?’
    â€˜Well,’ Ellery began. ‘I —’
    â€˜Do you know I used to look forward to coming home at night? Just what do you think you’re doing, anyway? Waiting for me to bring you home a story?’
    Ellery said, ‘Wow,’ and chuckled. ‘That’s pretty good, Dad. For a moment there I thought you were serious.’
    â€˜ Serious? ’ the Inspector hissed. He crumpled his topcoat and flung it across the room, at the same time charging up to the other side of Ellery’s desk and leaning so far over with his chin stuck out that Ellery could see every aspen hair in his gray brush mustache. ‘I’ll tell you how serious I am, Mr. Queen! I — want — you — the hell out of here!’
    â€˜What?’ Ellery said feebly.
    â€˜Get out! Go somewhere, do something! You say you’re a writer? Okay! Imagine something a living human being would do — anything at all! — and then just go out and pretend you’re it And pretty soon, Ellery, or so help me I’ll have you embalmed!’
    With which the waters of parental anxiety fell off to a trickle, and the Inspector went over and retrieved his coat and stumped out of Ellery’s study, muttering to himself. All of this Ellery watched with the round eyes and parted lips of an adenoidal idiot; and then he rubbed his unshaven cheeks and sat down again, looking intelligent.
    So it was that (yet again) Inspector Richard Queen of police headquarters found himself, topcoat over his arm, keys in hand,