Why Did the Valet Panic? Michaels’ Shocking Past Comes to Light!

Why Did the Valet Panic? Michaels’ Shocking Past Comes to Light

“Her name?” said Queen wearily.

“Well, sir — it isn’t right — Russo. Mrs. Angela Russo, her name is,” answered Michaels.

“How long did Mr. Field know this, Mrs. Russo?”

“Several months, sir. I think he met her at a party in Greenwich Village somewhere.”

“I see. And they were engaged, perhaps?”

Michaels seemed embarrassed. “You might call it that, sir, although it was a little less formal….”

Silence. “How long have you been in Monte Field’s employ, Michaels?” pursued the Inspector.

“Three years next month.”

Queen switched to a new line of questioning. He asked Michaels about Field’s addiction to theatre-going, his financial condition, and his drinking habits. In these particulars, Michaels corroborated Mrs. Russo’s statements. Nothing of a fresh nature was disclosed.

“A few moments ago, you said you have been working for Field a matter of three years,” continued Queen, settling back in his chair. “How did you get the job?”

Michaels did not answer immediately. “I followed up an ad in the papers, sir.”

“Quite so… If you have been in Field’s service for three years, Michaels, you should know Benjamin Morgan.”

Michaels permitted a proper smile to cross his lips. “Certainly, I know Mr. Benjamin Morgan,” he said heartily. “And a wonderful gentleman he is, too, sir. He was Mr. Field’s partner, you know, in their law business. But then they separated about two years ago, and I haven’t seen much of Mr. Morgan since.”

“Did you see him often before the split?”

“No, sir,” returned the burly valet in a tone which implied regret. “Mr. Field was not Mr. Morgan’s — ah — type, and they didn’t mix socially. Oh, I remember seeing Mr. Morgan in this apartment three or four times, but only when it was a matter of the utmost urgency. Even then I couldn’t say much about it since I didn’t stay all evening…. Of course, he hasn’t been here, so far as I know, since they broke up the firm.”

Queen smiled for the first time during the conversation. “Thank you for your frankness, Michaels… I’m going to be an old gossip — do you recall any unpleasantness about the time they dissolved?”

“Oh, no, sir!” protested Michaels. “I never heard of a quarrel or anything like that. Mr. Field told me immediately after the dissolution that he and Mr. Morgan would remain friends — very good friends, he said.”

Michaels turned with his politely blank expression at a touch on his arm. He found himself face to face with Ellery. “Yes, sir?” he asked respectfully.

“Michaels, dear man,” said Ellery with severity, “I detest raking up old coals, why haven’t you told the Inspector about that time you were in jail?”

As if he had stepped on an exposed live wire, Michaels’ body stiffened and grew still. The ruddy color drained out of his face. He stared open-mouthed, aplomb swept away, into Ellery’s smiling eyes.

“Why — why — how did you find that out?” gasped the valet, his speechless soft and polished. Queen appraised his son with approval. Piggott and Johnson moved closer to the trembling man.

Ellery lit a cigarette. “I didn’t know it at all,” he chirped. “That is, not until you told me. It would pay you to cultivate the Delphic oracles, Michaels.”

Michaels’ face was the color of dead ashes. He turned, shaking, toward Queen. “You — you didn’t ask me about that, sir,” he said weakly. Nevertheless, his tone had again become taut and blank. “Besides, a man doesn’t like to tell things like that to the police….”

129“Where did you do time, Michaels?” asked the Inspector in a kindly voice.

“Elmira Reformatory, sir,” muttered Michaels. “It was my first offense — I was up against it, starving, stole some money… I got a short stretch, sir.”

Queen rose. “Well, Michaels, of course, you understand that you are not exactly a free agent at present. You may go home and look for another job if you wish, but please stay at your current lodgings and be ready for a call at any time…. Just a moment before you go.” He strode over to the black suitcase and snapped it open. A jumbled mass of clothing — a dark suit, shirts, ties, socks — some clean, some dirty — was revealed. Queen rummaged swiftly through the bag, closed it, and handed it to Michaels, who was standing to one side with an expression of sorrowful patience.

“Seems to me you were taking mighty few duds with you, Michaels,” remarked Queen, smiling. “It’s too bad that you’ve been done out of your vacation. Well! That’s the way life is!” Michaels murmured a low goodbye, picked up the bag, and departed. A moment later, Piggott strolled out of the apartment.

Ellery threw back his head and laughed delightedly. “What a mannerly beggar! Lying in his teeth, pater… And what did he want here, do you think?”

“He came to get something, of course,” mused the Inspector. “And that means there’s something here of importance that we have overlooked….”

He grew thoughtful. The telephone bell rang.

“Inspector?” Sergeant Velie’s voice boomed over the wire. “I called headquarters, but you weren’t there, so I guessed you were still at Field’s place…. I’ve some interesting news for you from Browne Bros. Do you want me to come up to Field’s?”

“No,” returned Queen. “We’re through here. I’ll be 130 at my office just as soon as I’ve paid a visit to Field’s on Chambers Street. I’ll be there if anything important comes up in the interim. Where are you now?”

“Fifth Avenue — I’ve just come out of Browne’s.”

“Then go back to headquarters and wait for me. And, Thomas — send a uniformed man up here right away.”

Queen hung up and turned to Johnson.

“Stay here until a cop shows up — it won’t be long,” he grunted. “Have him keep a watch in the apartment and arrange for a relief. Then, report back to the main office…. Come along, Ellery. This is going to be a busy day!”

Ellery’s protests were in vain. His father fussily hustled him out of the building and into the street, where the roar of a taxicab’s exhaust effectually drowned out his voice. IN WHICH MR. FIELD’S TOPHATS BEGIN TO ASSUME PROPORTIONS It was exactly ten o’clock in the morning when Inspector Queen and his son opened the frosted glass door marked:

MONTE FIELD ATTORNEY-AT-LAW

The large waiting room they entered was decorated in just such a fashion as might have been expected from a man of Field’s taste in clothes. It was deserted, and with a puzzled glance, Inspector Queen pushed through the door, Ellery strolling behind, and went into the General Office. The room was long and filled with desks. It resembled a newspaper “city room” except for its rows of bookcases filled with ponderous legal tomes.

The office was in a state of violent upheaval. Stenographers chattered excitedly in small groups. Several male clerks whispered in a corner, and the center of the room stood Detective Hesse, talking earnestly to a lean saturnine man with greyed temples. It was evident that the lawyer’s demise had created a stir in his place of business.

At the entrance of the Queens, the employees looked at each other in a startled way and began to slip back to their desks. An embarrassed silence fell. Hesse hurried forward. His eyes were red and strained.

“Good morning, Hesse,” said the Inspector abruptly. “Where’s Field’s private office?”

132 The detective led them across the room to yet another door, a large one with PRIVATE lettered on its panels. The three men entered a small office that was overwhelmingly luxurious.

“This chap went in for atmosphere, didn’t he?” Ellery chuckled, sinking into a red leather armchair.

“Let’s have it, Hesse,” said the Inspector, following Ellery’s suit.

Hesse began to talk rapidly. “Got here last night and found the door locked — no sign of a light inside. I listened pretty closely but couldn’t hear a sound, so I took it for granted that there was no one inside and camped in the corridor all night. At about a quarter to nine this morning,, the office manageroffice manager breezed in,, and I caught up with him. He was that tall bird I was talking to when you came in. Name’s Lewin — Oscar Lewin.”

“Office-manager, eh?” remarked the old man, inhaling snuff.

“Yes, Chief. He’s either dumb, or else he knows how to keep his mouth shut,” continued Hesse. “Of course, he’d already seen the morning papers and was upset by the news of Field’s murder. I could see he didn’t like my questions at all, either… I didn’t get a thing out of him. Not a thing. He said he’d gone straight home last night — it seems Field had left about four o’clock and didn’t come back — and he didn’t know anything about the murder until he read the papers. We’ve been sliding along here all morning, waiting for you to come.”

“Get Lewin for me.”

Hesse returned with the lanky office manager in his wake. Oscar Lewin was physically unprepossessing. He had shifty black eyes and was abnormally thin. There was something predatory in his beaked nose and bony figure. The Inspector looked him over coldly.

133“So you’re the office-manager,” he remarked. “Well, what do you think of this affair, Lewin?”

“It’s terrible — simply terrible,” groaned Lewin. “I can’t imagine how it happened or why. Good Lord, I was talking to him only four o’clock yesterday afternoon!” He seemed genuinely distressed.

“Did Mr. Field appear strange or worried when you spoke to him?”

“Not at all, sir,” replied Lewin nervously. “He was in excellent spirits. He cracked a joke about the Giants and said he was going to see a darned good show last night — ‘Gunplay.’ And now I see by the papers that he was killed there!”

“Oh, he told you about the play, did he?” asked the Inspector. “He didn’t happen to remark by any chance that he was going with anybody?”

“No, sir.” Lewin shuffled his feet.

“I see.” Queen paused. “Lewin, as a manager, you must have been closer to Field than any other of his employees. Just what do you know about him?”

“Not a thing, sir, not a thing,” said Lewin hastily. “Mr. Field was not a man with whom an employee could become familiar. Occasionally, he said something about himself, but it was always general and more jesting than serious. To us outside, he was always a considerate and generous employer — that’s all.”