Chapter 12 Chapter Twelve Don't Say Anything

But Kelly didn't see him.She was still dazzled by the three blinding red lights that had just passed over her head and shot into Margot's throat, eyes, and cheeks. Those three bangs were still ringing in her ears, and it sounded like the whole world had come crashing down.She couldn't see anything, she couldn't hear anything, she just felt dizzy. "She's dead," Kelly said clearly. "Margot's dead. Her eyes are gone, and there's blood on her neck, and she's got one eye. Look how funny she looks. Look how funny—" Bo stood at the door, wanting to speak, but couldn't.

"She was alive just now, and then she died. She died not far from the top of my head. I heard her blood gurgle. I heard her die behind me." Kelly began to laugh . Bo stumbled in and ran in: "Kelly!" He knelt down beside her, unable to think what to do but put his arms around her and pressed her face to his chest.He couldn't bear to look at her face, which was pale and dull, like a poorly made plaster mask.There was a light in her eyes, not fear, not panic, not disgust, but something inexplicable, fixed, like the eyes of a wax figure. At his touch, she stopped laughing: "She came to laugh at me. She said you planned all this with her, our elopement, marriage. She said you told her where to take me. Then That's why she knew where to find me. She said it was your plan, that you didn't love me, you loved her. Your plot was to take the money Uncle Cadmus left me and share it with her. You two ..."

"Kelly, stop talking." "She talked about the attacks and admitted that she did it, that she and another person—" "Another person!" Beau murmured, "Who?" "She didn't have time to tell me. She started talking, but three shots were fired from the window..." Outside the window - Beau stood up.He walked to the window next to the armchair with stiff legs.The window was open and the curtains were fluttering.Kelly sat in the chair, Margot stood behind the chair - straight shot - throat, eye... revolver. "Revolver," he said hoarsely, "what happened?"

"It's mine," Kelly said dreamily. "Mine. I bought it when you—warned me. Someone stole it from my car. It must be When was yesterday, because I couldn't find it since I was locked in the garage." "Your!" Beau took a few steps forward and stopped, "but if it's stolen—" She looked up at him stupidly: "A hand, or a few fingers, threw it in through the window. Here it is." She looked down at her hand, still holding the hand tightly A pearl-handled pistol. Bo rushed over and grabbed her, shaking her.It made her head bump back and forth on her shoulders like a rattle.

"Can't you see?" he cried. "It's a frame! Someone killed her, and they're going to use this gun to frame you! Get up! We gotta get out of here." "What?" She didn't understand.Her face contorted as she tried to figure it out. He picked her up and slapped her across the face. "Kelly! For God's sake, cheer up! I've got to get you out of here before—" "Stand still." Beau stood still.Kelly leaned limply in his arm, the revolver dangling from her fingers, without even taking it from her hand.It's too late now.From the door, she could see her hand holding the gun.you idiot.You bloody idiot.You didn't even close the door.

"You can't escape." They blocked the door.One of them was the hotel manager—Beau recognized him from the tuxedo and the stars and the half-moon bags under his eyes, suspicious fellow, strong.The other was a restaurant detective, a big guy in a top hat and a 38-caliber pistol in his hand. There's nothing left.Have to think of another way. The window... seventeen floors above the ground.Either way, running away was a crazy idea.They are checked in.think about it.You've been the number one fool so far.Figure out a way. The restaurant detective walked right in, his eyes fixed on the revolver in Kelly's hand.

He aimed his gun at them with his right hand, reached into his pocket with his left and took out a handkerchief. He was quite knowledgeable and had no intention of taking the gun from her himself. "Put the gun down." Kelly looked bewildered. "Drop it," Beau said into her ear, "that gun." "Oh." She dropped it. "You, big man." The detective shifted his gaze from Kelly's hand to Beau's now, "just tiptoe it over. Slowly, sir. Push it over to me." Beau pushed it through.It slid three feet across the carpet and stopped at the detective's big feet.He squatted down, without looking at the gun, and fumbled to spread the handkerchief over the gun.

Beau whispered in Kelly's ear, "Carrie, are you listening?" Her head moved slightly against his chest, tightening him tightly. "I'm going to escape, understand?" The arms around him tightened convulsively. "Don't say anything. Don't say a word. Whatever they ask you, say you don't know. The cops will be here in a few minutes. But you won't know anything until I come back and tell you to talk. Got it ?” He could feel her head bobbing gently against his chest. "What are you two mumbling about?" asked the detective.He was on his feet, the 22-caliber pistol in his handkerchief.

"Can you move now, sir?" Bo asked. "I'm numb from standing like this all the time." "Come here. Let go of the woman and put your hands up." Beau shrugged and complied.Kelly staggered to the armchair and sank into it.The hotel manager hurried over to close the window beside her; he stood there looking down at her. The restaurant detective slapped Beau all over the body and muttered, "Okay, stand over there and be honest." He knelt down beside Margo and put his ear to her chest, "I miss her Dead, Mr. O'Brien. You'd better call police headquarters, and I—"

The door leading to the corridor slammed.The two men turned hastily, and Bo was gone. The hotel detective rushed to the door, cursing, while the hotel manager put his hands on Kelly's shoulders and pinned her down, as if thinking she was going to run away too. "Please don't," Kelly said, "You're hurting me." The manager looked embarrassed.He picked up the phone and described Beau's appearance aloud to the hotel switchboard operator. "Don't let that man leave the restaurant!" Kelly hugged herself tightly.She was cold and hungry. Beau ran down the fourth step of the emergency stairs, up.They'll think he's going to run down.

On the twentieth floor, he took off his hat, threw it into the corner of the landing, and slipped quietly into the corridor.No one is around.He walked to the elevator closest to him and pressed the down button.There was no way the elevator attendant coming down from above heard the alarm. The elevator stops and Bo walks in.There were three passengers inside, looking listless.The elevator attendant paid no attention to him. He got off the elevator on the mezzanine between the first and second floors. From the platform he could see the noisy hall where the detective was yelling at a patrolman.The policeman looked shocked, and then rushed out into the street. Beau slipped into a phone booth and dialed a number. "Hello?" said a sleepy voice. "Ellery! I'm Beau." "Huh?" Mr. Quinn's voice became alert. "No time to go into details. I'm at the Villanoy Hotel, and the whole hotel is chasing me." "Why? What's the trouble?" "murder--" "murder!?" "Margo was shot and killed." "Margo?" Mr. Quinn was speechless, but only for a moment. "But how did she—who killed her?" "Don't know." Beau briefly described what had happened that night, how he had found Kelly, and what she had told him before being interrupted by the restaurant manager and the detectives. Mr. Quinn muttered, "Where is Kelly now?" "Upstairs in room 1724. She's freaking out. Al, you have to come over here." "of course." "Nobody knows about that other room except you, Kelly, me, and the killer. I've told Kelly not to say anything. We must search that room before the police!" "What's the room number?" "Just around the corner from room 1724, in the side corridor. I think it's 1726. Can you get into the hotel without getting caught?" "let me try." "Come on, I think they're searching the mezzanine by now—" "What name did you register with Kelly?" "Mr. and Mrs. Ellery Queen." The real Mr. Quinn groaned: "Did you ever think that an old gentleman surnamed Quinn would definitely be responsible for this murder case?" "My God," Beau said, and slowly hung up the receiver. Later he came out of the phone booth, strolled over to the marble fence, and lit a cigarette.The restaurant detective and the patrolman Bo had seen him sprinting out of the lobby were hurrying from table to table, scanning the surprised faces of the reporters.They're on the other side of the mezzanine. Beau walked towards them leisurely and said, "Can I help you, gentlemen?" The detective's big jaw opened suddenly.He screamed, "It's him, Fergie!" and the two rushed towards Beau. He stretched out his hand to push the policeman away, and grabbed the detective's wrist with the gun: "Why are you using force? I surrendered myself, didn't I?" They looked bewildered.The crowd of onlookers increased, and Bo stood there smiling apologetically to them. "Well, you're pretty smart," the detective gasped, pulling his hands away. "Why run away?" "Who, me?" said Beau. "Come on, guys. Let's not keep the lady waiting too long." "Who are you? What's your name?" "Quinn. Ellery Quinn. Want to find something out of the name?" "Quinn!" the policeman stared at him dumbfounded. "You mean Ellery Quinn?" "That's right. Sergeant." Foggy stood in awe: "Sam, do you know who this is? The son of Police Officer Quinn of the homicide investigation team!" "Everybody makes mistakes, guys," Beau said grandly, "so now, let's get back to the crime scene?" "Officer Quinn is your father?" Sam asked. "You heard what Fergarty said." "Well, I don't care," said Sam stubbornly. "Fogerty, this guy was with that woman when Mr. O'Brien and I stormed into Room 17. She had a gun in her hand, but How do we know he's not, um, an accomplice?" "Officer Quinn will prove who I am," Beau said. "He proved so what? So what?" said the hotel detective excitedly. "I don't care who you are, sir, you were caught in that room—" "What's the fuss about it?" Beau asked. "Sam, you're making a fool of yourself. Wow, look at the cops pouring in! Get upstairs before the reporters make a fuss. Can you go? Or should I Go up by yourself?" "Don't worry," said Sam, gripping his pistol again, "I'll come with you, honey." They took a special elevator up to the seventeenth floor.Outside room 1724, a policeman holds back the crowd.Inside the room were two police officers arriving in radio vans and a detective from the West Forty-seventh Street precinct.They were all talking and asking questions at the same time. Kelly was still sitting in the armchair, not even changing her position. "Is that him?" asked the District Inspector. "Yes," said Sam, "himself." "Well, the girl cleared him up. She said he wasn't even here when the shot went off. He came in after the shot." "Kelly," Beau growled.She answered the question.He had told her not to do it.She glanced at him, calm and distant. "Did she admit she killed the other woman?" Sam asked eagerly. "She admitted nothing." Beau shook his head warningly at Kelly.She put her hands in her lap, palms up, and stared out the window. "Lucky fool," Sam said to Beau, scowling. "Yeah," Beau said, looking calmly at Kelly's profile, "how lucky I am." Constable Richard Quinn was in Dr. Prodie's office playing two-handed clebias with Constable Willie in earnest when the call came from Center Street.He was waiting for the coroner's report on Henk Knuxie's body.A search has been launched across the country for the man whose body has just been found at the bottom of the River East this evening. "What?" said the officer into the phone, and Officer Willie saw his superior's gray beard quiver and his little birdy face turn white, "Yes, yes. All right. Now listen, You can't let the reporter into that room, understand? And get the registration card in your hand. Leaked news I want your head... Do it right away!" He hung up the phone, looking like he had a serious illness. "What's the matter?" Sergeant Willie asked. "Lots of things," said Constable Quinn, standing up. "A woman was killed at the Villanoy Hotel." Officer Willie was puzzled: "So what?" In the case team's car heading to Times Square with sirens blaring, the officer told him the rest of the story. "I don't believe it," Willie protested, "it's a hoax." "They're registered as Mr. and Mrs. Ellery Queen, I tell you!" said the old man grumpily. "But who was that woman? And who was the one who was killed?" "I don't know. Nobody knows." "When was the last time you saw Ellery?" "This morning. He didn't tell me anything about his getting married. But I think he's acting weird." Sergeant Quinn bit his beard. "Do this to me! Hurry up, OK?" "Dude, think what the papers will say!" Willie groaned. "Maybe there's still time to block the news," the old man said frantically, "Hurry up, you baboon!" Willie looked at him sympathetically. At the Villanoy Hotel, the officer shrugged off the reporters, had the lobby thrown out, debriefed a few, nodded to a crew member waving a registration card, and commandeered an elevator. In the elevator, he sneakily checked the terrible registration card: Although he sighed in relief, he still narrowed his eyes.It wasn't Ellery's note, but it was almost as bad--it was Beau Rumel's. "Any bad news?" Whispered Inspector Willie. "Get ready, Thomas," the old man muttered, "it's a strange thing. It's Beau Rumel, not Ellery, and he's using Ellery's name." "That annoying kid!" "Let's just plan for now. Pass my words to all team members, and don't reveal Bo's identity." As soon as Officer Quinn entered Room 1724, Beau grabbed his hand. "Hey, Dad! How are you? I guess you never thought you'd see your son in a place like this!" He winked. The officer took a deliberate pinch of snuff, looked at the body, at Kelly, then at Beau. "I didn't think so," he said grimly, and turned to the District Detective. "Well, Lieutenant, get the room out of the way and let the witnesses wait outside for my interrogation." Then he grabbed Beau's arm. Pull him into the bedroom. "Thanks, Dad," Beau grinned, "you're so resourceful, thanks a lot. Look, I gotta get out of here now—" "Really?" the officer looked at him coldly. "Why Ellery's name? Who's that brunette?" "It's a long story, and it's too late to tell. She's my wife—" "Your what!" gasped the old man, "I thought that Mr. and Mrs. what was a trick—" "With her? Tell you, we got married tonight. There's a reason—I mean, why I can't use my own name." "Does Ellery know?" the old man asked furiously. "Know." —He stopped talking. "I've got to get out of here for half an hour, father!" "Where are you going?" "I'm not leaving the hotel." "Bo," the officer asked, looking him in the eye, "were you involved in the murder of that woman?" Bo met his gaze and said briefly, "No, Dad." "Where's your wife?" "No." "How do you know?" asked the old man after a pause. "I heard you came in after the murder—your wife said it herself." "I can't tell you how I know," Beau whispered. "For God's sake, Dad, let me go now, will you? I've got something to do!" "I'm a fool," said the old man grumpily. "Dad, you are a good man!" When Beau returned to the living room, everyone in the room had been driven out, except for the police officer's men.He walked slowly over to Kelly and whispered to her, "I have to go now, little one, just for a while. Remember what I said, don't talk, don't say a word, even if it's right—I'm old Don't say anything, Dad." "What?" Tears welled up in her eyes, "I mean..." Beau struggled to suppress his emotions.She looked so helpless that he wanted to jump out of the window.He must do something!Go into the room where the bullet came from.And then...the camera works.Stick to it.It was the hardest for her. "I'll be back soon." He kissed her and walked out. He removed the "Do Not Disturb" sign that had been chained to the inside of the living room door.He slipped it into his pocket casually. Outside the room, a group of hotel workers and police officers watched him curiously.Detective Flint, who held the door, said, "It's all right, he can leave." Beau went to the elevator and pressed the down button, and one elevator stopped.He walked in and said, "The sixteenth floor." He got off the elevator on the sixteenth floor and ran back to the seventeenth floor along the emergency stairs. The exit leads to another corridor.He walked out quietly without being seen. He tiptoed to room 1726, from here he could hear the excited conversation of the group in front of the door of room 1724 on the other side of the corner. Beau put his ear to the door of Room 1726.Then he hung the "Do Not Disturb" sign on the outside handle and quietly tried to open the door.The door opened.He pushed the door open quickly and softly, went in, and closed it again, taking care not to make any noise. When the door was closed, he flipped the catch aside and locked the door behind it. It was at this time that he noticed a certain sign, and then turned around. He crouched down sharply. Someone was smoking indoors in the dark. --murderer! He said gruffly, "Hold still. I'm targeting you!" "Is that so?" said Mr. Quin slowly, behind a flicker of cigarette butts. "Who are you fooling?"

---

Notes: