Free Face to Face by Ellery Queen Page A

glances. “What’s the matter, did I say something?”
    â€œNo,” said Burke.
    Kipley’s black eyes narrowed unpleasantly. “You two wouldn’t be holding out on me, would you?”
    â€œYes,” Ellery said. Burke looked positively unhappy. “But we don’t have the right to go into that, Kip. Anyway, the West girl’s connection with the case will probably break soon. Who else?”
    The columnist jotted something down on a pad at his elbow. “I didn’t furnish this joint out of official handouts, Charlie. Thanks for the tip … Well, there’s Marta Bellina.”
    â€œThe opera singer?”
    â€œIn person. Bellina was probably GeeGee’s best friend. Armando’s been crawling all over the best friend, too, and if Marta minds she’s been keeping it a deep, dark secret. Women!”
    â€œIncredible,” Burke muttered.
    â€œMarta Bellina,” Ellery wrote. “Next?”
    â€œHer doctor.”
    â€œWhose doctor?” Ellery asked, glancing up.
    â€œGeeGee’s.”
    Ellery looked startled.
    Kipley laughed. “If Armando’s a faggot he hasn’t been caught at it. No, Dr. Merckell is a lady doctor—Susan Merckell, M.D.”
    â€œThe Park Avenue laryngologist who’s so popular with show people?”
    â€œThe same. Handsome woman; never married. Made to order for the count. All he has to do is fake a sore throat, go to Dr. Merckell’s office, and get into her examining room. My information is that during Armando’s visits it’s the doctor who gets examined.”
    â€œWhere do you dredge up all this muck?” asked Harry Burke in a disgusted voice.
    â€œDo I ask you where you plant your bugs, Charlie?” the columnist asked amiably. “Then there’s the broad with the veil.”
    â€œWhat?” exclaimed Ellery.
    â€œHe’s been seen in the company of a chick who always wears a violet veil. A thick one, so you can’t make out her face.”
    â€œAlways?”
    â€œAlways.”
    â€œHow old is she?”
    â€œCan you tell a femme’s age nowadays when you can’t see her puss? If the sun stopped coming up and all the power failed, there’d be one hell of a lot of happy grandmas.”
    â€œHow about the veiled woman’s hair?”
    â€œSometimes it’s blond, sometimes it’s red, sometimes it’s brunette. But it’s the same woman in my book. With wigs … I see you two are interested in Madame X. As interested as I am. Basically, Armando is stupid. Letting himself be seen around town with a veiled dame! She might just as well be wearing a topless bathing suit. Don’t you ever read my column?”
    â€œNot as often as I’m going to from now on.” Ellery said fervently. “By the way, have you any idea when Armando was last seen with the mysterious veiled woman?”
    â€œBefore Christmas, I think. You ask like pushy questions, man. What’s the date got to do with anything?”
    â€œIt’s just an idea I’m working on. Is there anyone else?”
    Kipley said simply, “I’ve run out.”
    Ellery signaled to Burke. “Kip, I can’t tell you how grateful I am—”
    â€œYou can take your gratitude and you know what. Give me some poop, Charlie, and we’re brother Elks.”

14
    They went down to police headquarters and spent the remainder of the day going through page after crammed page of Glory Guild’s diaries and memoirs. For the most part the diary entries were inconsequential—guests entertained, parties attended, weekends spent; reactions to first nights, an occasional acid comment about a pop singer. The diaries were sequined with name-dropping references to the great and notorious of show business, as if the late GeeGee had never entirely outgrown her Middle West clothes. There were surprisingly few allusions to her husband, and not a syllable about