Chapter 28 Chapter 27

Tuesday, October 26th, exactly a week after Mrs. Sloane's action, which inadvertently set off a chain of events that finally turned the case against Sloane.At ten o'clock this morning Mr. Ellery Queen was awakened by the ringing of the telephone.It was his father who called.It appeared that by this morning tension had arisen concerning the exchange of telegrams between New York and London.The Victorian Museum is in trouble. "There's a meeting in Henry Simpson's office in an hour, boy." The old man looked old and tired this morning. "I think you'd like to attend."

"I'm going, Dad," said Ellery, and added thoughtfully, "Where's your Spartan spirit, Sergeant?" An hour later, Ellery arrived at the prosecutor's private office to find a tense scene. The police officer was angry and anxious; Simpson was fidgeting; Pepper was silent; and sitting upright as if on a throne, with a resolute and unyielding expression on his old face, was the famous Mr. James Knox . Ellery greeted everyone, and they all paid no attention; Simpson waved his hand at a chair, and Ellery sank into it, looking around hopefully. "Mr. Knox." Simpson paced up and down in front of the throne, "I invited you here this morning because—"

"Huh?" Knox spoke in his falsely soft voice. "That's the thing, Mr. Knox." Simpson changed his tone, "I didn't take an active part in the investigation of this case, as you probably know—I have other business and I'm really busy. Don't come. My assistant, Mr. Pepper, has been acting on my behalf. Now, while Mr. Pepper is competent and conscientious, the situation has reached a point where I have to formally intervene in the situation myself." "Indeed." Knox's words were neither teasing nor accusatory.He seemed to be waiting, relaxed outwardly and inwardly.

"Yeah," said Simpson, almost growling, "it is! Do you want to know why I took over this from Mr. Pepper?" He stopped before Knox's chair. , stare at him. "Because, Mr. Knox, your attitude has created a serious international dispute, and that's why!" "My attitude?" Knox seemed amused. Simpson didn't answer right away.He walked to his writing desk and picked up a stack of half-paged blank papers—all Western Union telegrams, with yellow strips glued to the white papers. "Well, Mr. Knox," Simpson went on, hoarsely—he was exercising his burlesque, trying to control his tongue and temper, "I'll read you some telegrams. In order. These many telegrams were the correspondence between the Constable Quin and the curator of the Victoria Museum in London. At last there were two telegrams, not written by either of the above-mentioned gentlemen, which I have just pointed out. Yes, these two telegrams are likely to cause international disputes."

"Actually, you should know," Knoxpier murmured, with a half-smile, "I don't see why you think I'm interested in this. I'm a concerned citizen, though. Go on. Bar." The officer's face changed; but he controlled himself and leaned back in his chair, his pale face flushed as red as Knox's tie. "The first one," Simpson continued in a vicious tone, "is the original telegram sent to the museum by Officer Quinn after listening to your report—that is, the conclusion that Khalkis was the murderer fell through. Here is the officer's telegram." Simpson then read the top telegram aloud, very loudly.

"Five years ago (as stated in the telegram) was Leonardo da Vinci's precious collection stolen from your museum." Knox sighed.After hesitating awkwardly for a while, Simpson spoke again, "I received a call back from the museum soon." The second telegram reads: "This painting was stolen five years ago. The thief is suspected to be a former employee of the museum. His name was Graham when he worked here, and his real name may be Greenshaw. However, the whereabouts of the painting have not been known yet. Obviously, the theft should be kept secret. Sincere inquiries , I understand that you must know the whereabouts of this Leonardo work. Please tell me quickly, and I hope it will be kept confidential."

"It's all a misunderstanding. It's all a misunderstanding," Knox said amiably. "Do you think it's a misunderstanding, Mr. Knox?" Simpson turned purple with anger, snapped the second telegram over and read the third. Here's Officer Quinn calling back: "Is it possible that the stolen painting was not painted by Leonardo himself, but by his pupil or contemporary, and therefore worth a fraction of the listed price?" The Director of the Victoria Museum replied: "Please answer the question in the previous telegram. Where is the painting? If the original painting is not returned immediately, severe measures will be taken. It has been identified by the most famous expert in the UK and is an authentic work by Leonardo. A reward of 200,000 pounds is offered to find the original painting."

Officer Quinn called back: "Please postpone the deadline. There is no absolute certainty. Try to avoid the turmoil and storms in the city, not only for your sake, but also for our consideration. The difference of opinion seems to indicate that the work that is being engraved is not the authentic work of Leodo." Call back from the museum: "The situation is incomprehensible. If the work in question is Leonardo's oil painting "The Battle of the Flag", which the master made after the failure of the fresco project at Palazzo Vichaux in 1505, then the painting belongs to our museum. Since you can know the opinions of American experts, you will also know the whereabouts of this painting. No matter how the United States evaluates this painting, our museum insists on returning it. According to the right of discovery, this painting should belong to the Victoria Museum, and the painting is in the United States. Purely for theft."

Officer Quinn called back: "We're in a situation that takes time. Please trust." Prosecutor Simpson gave a meaningful pause: "Now, Mr. Knox, we are going to read the first of two telegrams that will give us both mutual headaches. This telegram is in reply to what I just read to you. The outgoing call I heard was signed by Sergeant Bloom of the Metropolitan Police." "Very interesting," Knox said flatly. "Exactly, Mr. Knox!" Simpson stared, and read in a trembling voice. The Scotland Yard telegram read: "The theft from the Victorianaya Museum has been referred to my department. Please provide details. Sincerely, NYPD.

"I hope," grumbled Simpson, tossing the half-page of the blank paper aside, "I sincerely hope, Mr. Knox, that you understand by now what we're in. Because of the officer's response to the call." "Leonardo's work is not in the hands of our bureau. International pressure at this moment may make the painting disappear. All activities here are in the interests of the museum. We hope for a two-week grace period." James Knox nodded, then turned to face the officer clutching the edge of his chair, politely approving: "Great reply, officer. Very clever. Very diplomatic." .Good job!" No one answered him.Ellery focused on all this with interest, though he was knowingly trying to be nonchalant.The police officer held his breath, and Simpson and Pepper looked at each other, but the sharpness in their eyes was definitely not in the other party.Simpson continued talking, holding his voice tightly, and could barely make out the words: "This is the last telegram. I just received it this morning, and it was also from Officer Bron."

"The request for a two-week extension has been approved by the museum. Until then, my department should suspend taking action, and I wish you success." Simpson put the stack of telegrams back on the desk, facing Knox, hands on hips, and no one spoke. "Well, Mr. Knox, you get it now. We've got our cards on the table. For God's sake, sir, be sensible! Let's all cooperate—at least Let us have a look at the picture in your hand, and let us have an impartial expert examine it..." "I won't do any of this nonsense," the tycoon snapped back. "It's not necessary. My expert says it's not Leonardo's work, and the expert should know the stuff—I'll pay him enough To hell with the Victoria Museum, Mr Simpson. That's all the department." The police officer couldn't bear it anymore, and jumped up all of a sudden: "It doesn't matter if he is a big man or a small man," he shouted, "I would rather never turn over, Henry, if I let this-this..." He was so angry that he couldn't speak up.Simpson took him by the arm, dragged him into a corner, and snapped at the old man's ear.The police officer's face softened, and he returned to his sophisticated demeanor. "I'm sorry, Mr. Knox," he said, apologizing as he turned to Simpson, "I lost my composure just now. But why don't you put the scoop back in the museum instead of being prettier? No luck. You've lost twice that amount in the market before, and you didn't even bat an eyelid." The smile on Knox's face disappeared: "It's refreshing, huh?" He stood up with difficulty, "There is no such reason in the world. I bought something with seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars, but I have to return it." Someone else? You answer, Quinn. You answer." "In any case," Pepper said tactfully before the officer could figure out how to respond, "at any rate, your enthusiasm for collecting will not be dampened by this, sir, since, according to your own expert evaluation, you have this A painting, as a work of art, is actually worthless." "And you're committing crimes for it," Simpson interrupted. "Provide proof. Prove proof if you have a way." Knox became angry at this moment; his face was stern and his lips were pursed. "Let me tell you, this painting I bought, It’s not the one that was stolen from the museum. If you have the ability, you can prove that it’s that one! If you want to mess with me, gentlemen, you will get it on your own head instead!” "So, then," Simpson hesitated to say something, but Ellery asked in an extremely gentle tone: "By the way, Mr. Knox, who is your expert?" Knox turned around instantly.He blinked and smiled again: "It's purely my business, Quinn. I'll let him play when I think it's necessary. If you guys dance too hard, I'll just deny it." Own the damn thing yourself!" "I won't do that," said the inspector. "No, sir, I won't. And we'll be charging you with perjury soon!" Simpson patted the table: "Your position, Mr. Knox, embarrasses me and the police authorities. If you persist in this child's play attitude, it will force me to transfer this case to the federal government. The Metropolitan Police will not tolerate any misconduct, and neither will the District Courts of the United States." Knox picked up his hat and strode toward the door.Quite a bit of no turning back. Ellery drawled, "My dear Mr. Knox, do you intend to be at once against the American Government and at the same time against the British Government?" Knox turned and pushed his hat back on his head: "Boy," he said coldly, "you can't imagine who I'm going to fight to keep what I paid $750,000 for. That's a lot of money, even for Jen Knox! I've wrestled with several governments--I've won them all!" The door slammed shut. "You should read your Bible more, Mr. Knox," whispered Ellery, looking at the shaking door. "'God chose the weak to shame the strong...'" But no one paid him any attention. The prosecutor said, whining, "We're in worse shape now than we were before. What way do we go now?" The police officer stroked his mustache viciously: "Look, let's not go on with the mushrooms. It's been long enough. If Knox doesn't paint the picture of the bird that is fishing for money within a few days If you hand it over, you can report it to the Attorney General of the Commonwealth and let him deal with the Metropolitan Police Department." "It seems to me that pressure would have been required to get the painting," Simpson said gloomily. "But what if, gentlemen," Ellery asked, "suppose Mr. James Knox conveniently claims that the picture is no longer to be found?" Everyone pondered over the words, and judging from their expressions, they all felt very uncomfortable.Simpson shrugged. "Well, you always have a solution to everything. What would you do if you had an unusually difficult situation like this?" Ellery looked up at the white ceiling: "I'm going to take—actually do nothing. This situation is just right for a policy of non-interventionism. Putting pressure on Knox now will only irritate him; Especially for a practical businessman like him, you just need to give him a certain amount of time... who knows?" He smiled and stood up, "Give him at least two weeks of grace, and you can get that from the museum yourself." grace. There is no doubt that Knox will take the next step." Everyone nodded. Once again, however, Ellery miscalculated on this intricate case.Because the next step, when it came, turned out to be something else... and besides, this step, far from solving the problem, seemed to make it harder to deal with than before.