The Golden Goose (19 page)

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Authors: Ellery Queen

BOOK: The Golden Goose
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“Don't look at me that way, Princess,” Coley went on, a rather wistful note creeping into his voice. “In directing suspicion toward your family so it wouldn't occur to anyone that I was the last one with opportunity to give old Slater his lethal drink, I knew I was also directing suspicion toward you, as one of the family. In fact, I knew you'd be the principal suspect when the will became known, but I saw no other choice; it simply had to be risked. I kept telling myself that they'd have to prove you stole the drug from old Free's stock, and I knew you hadn't stolen any, so how were they going to prove you had? But, let's face it—I
was
using you. And that, I suppose, is what you couldn't forgive, and why you decided to put me on this spot. You had me pegged right. I'm in love with you. Funny, isn't it, that a jerky little four-letter word should be the thing that in the end made me not able to go through with it? I don't understand it. It shows that a fellow can't trust anybody, especially himself.”

And Coley Collins took a short turn about the frozen little office, ruminating aloud with his hands clasped loosely behind his back, like Napoleon. “It might have worked out all right even then if it hadn't been for Aunt Lallie and that old fish Shark—I mean, that old shark Fish. After Appleton, they're the ones who really ruined me. No one knew I knew about Slater's real will, and no one would ever have known if I hadn't been forced to expose that crooked will they fixed up between them so Lallie could get what Slater intended for Prin. And in being forced to say I knew about the real will, I had to reveal that I had a motive, through you, Prin, for killing him. You were sharp, Prin, sharp; you saw that before anyone else. What a team we could have made! Well, the whole thing went sour. I wish it hadn't. I'm sorry.”

The stone that had been Grundy stirred. And he made a stony fist and pounded the fist into his palm, looking from Coley Collins to Princess O'Shea as if they were personal enemies.

“Which one of you is telling the truth?” he bellowed. “By God, which one of you is telling the truth?”

For the first time, really, Prin's glance and Coley's glance met eye to eye. But then Coley looked away, and he said to Grundy, “I am, Lieutenant.”

“Is he?” Grundy demanded of Prin coldly. “Or are you still sticking to
your
story?”

Prin shook her head. “I withdraw it, Lieutenant. It has served its purpose. It was all a lie. You've just heard the truth from
him.”

“In that case,” and Grundy turned to Coley Collins, towering over him like some outraged spirit, “you're under arrest for the murder of Slater O'Shea, and anything you may say
et cetera.”

“I never thought I would be,” Coley sighed, “but it's clear that I am. Prin, there is something I would like to know, if you don't mind telling me.”

“There are many things I would like to know,” said Prin, “one of which is how a person like you
happens.”

“Would you really have stuck to your confession if I'd kept quiet?”

“Now that,” said Prin, “I don't know. It's sometimes hard to tell what one will do.”

“A profound truth,” said Coley. “If anyone had accused me yesterday of behaving as nobly as I have behaved today, I would have laughed in his idiotic face. I must be out of my mind.”

“I shall try,” she said, “to hold on to that thought.”

Prin rose and straightened her frock with finality. As she did so, she looked again at the young murderer, but he seemed to have retreated into some daytime land of dreams. Funny, Prin thought, that she had never really noticed before how old he looked, how old and unredeemable.

“I feel a sudden need for a long, hot, cleansing tub,” Prin said. “May I go now, Lieutenant?”

Lieutenant Grundy said, “Sure you may,” and to her astonishment it was said with a vast tenderness. “I'll see you're not bothered any more than is absolutely necessary …” and he hesitated over a sound that might have been intended to become a word beginning with “P.” But at the last instant it came out a rather stiff “Miss O'Shea.”

And to her continuing astonishment Prin found herself smiling up at this suddenly tender-voiced small-town police officer. She had not thought it possible ever to smile again at anyone, especially a man.

“You may call me Princess,” Prin said shyly; and she was gone.

But not before she heard from behind her the thoughtful tones of Coley repeating the words, “
I must be out of my mind
… Grundy, I want to phone my lawyer.”

“And who would that be?” growled the tender lieutenant.

“I think … Yes! Selwyn Fish.”

Mr. Coley Collins was already at work preparing his defense.

All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 1964 by Ellery Queen

Copyright renewed by Ellery Queen

Cover design by Kat Lee

ISBN: 978-1-5040-1845-6

This 2015 edition published by
MysteriousPress.com
/Open Road Integrated Media, Inc.

345 Hudson Street

New York, NY 10014

www.mysteriouspress.com

www.openroadmedia.com

EBOOKS BY ELLERY QUEEN

FROM
MYSTERIOUSPRESS.COM
AND OPEN ROAD MEDIA

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