Chapter 8 Episode 3 Ellery Quinn Takes Over

Ellery didn't touch the typewriter all night, and the next morning he blinked, stroked his stubble, and heard his stomach growl. Ellery Quinn ran into the kitchen and took from the refrigerator a carton of milk and unfinished sandwiches from the previous afternoon.He finished eating and drinking like a storm, wiped his mouth, yawned, stretched himself, and walked to the phone. "Good morning, Dad. Who won?" "Who won what?" Inspector Quinn asked impatiently in Bermuda. "A game of horseshoes." "Oh, that. They won. How's the weather in New York? I hope it's bad."

"The weather?" Ellery glanced out the window, but the shutters were closed. "To tell you the truth—I don't know how to put it—Daddy, I worked all night yesterday." "You sent me to Bermuda to recuperate, son, why don't you come with me?" "I can't. Not just because of the book I'm finishing. Yesterday Grant Eames came to the house and he drank my whiskey and left a parcel." "Oh?" The inspector became active. "What package?" Ellery Queen told the truth. Quinn chuckled. "It's all bullshit. Someone must have played a prank on you. Did you read it?"

"Read a few chapters. I must say the writing is fantastic, in fact, brilliant. But now - like a flash of lightning, I have to get on with my writing. How did you arrange today, Dad ?” "Bury myself in the goddamn sand. Ellery, I'm so bored I'm gnawing my nails. Son, can't you let me go home?" "No chance," said Ellery. "Don't even think about it. By the way, would you like to read the unpublished works of Sherlock Holmes?" Inspector Quinn's voice became sly. "Listen, there's a way, I'll call the airline immediately and book a ticket, we'll meet up in New York soon—"

"No, I'll send you the manuscript." "To hell with the manuscript," growled Inspector Quinn. "Goodbye, Dad," Ellery said. "When you go to the beach, don't forget to wear your sunglasses and eat all the food in the restaurant." He quickly hung up the phone without daring to delay for a second. He stared at the clock, which was as hideous as a typewriter to his bloodshot eyes. He went into the bathroom, took a shower, and put on his pajamas.The first thing he did was to unplug the telephone, and the second thing was to continue reading Dr. Watson's diary.

It'll put me to sleep, he reassured himself.