Free The New Adventures of Ellery Queen by Ellery Queen

didn’t have five minutes alone with the old gentleman—you saw to that. And then he lapsed into the coma and was unable to speak again before he died. Why? Why all this surveillance? God knows I’m a forbearing man; but you’ve given me every ground for suspecting your motives.”
    â€œApparently,” chuckled Dr. Reinach, “you don’t agree with Caesar.”
    â€œI beg your pardon?”
    â€œâ€˜Would,’” quoted the fat man, “‘he were fatter.’ Well, good people, the end of the world may come, but that’s no reason why we shouldn’t have breakfast. Milly!” he bellowed.
    Thorne awoke sluggishly, like a drowsing old hound dimly aware of danger. His bedroom was cold; a pale morning light was struggling in through the window. He groped under his pillow.
    â€œStop where you are!” he said harshly.
    â€œSo you have a revolver, too?” murmured Ellery. He was dressed and looked as if he had slept badly. “It’s only I, Thorne, stealing in for a conference. It’s not so hard to steal in here, by the way.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?” grumbled Thorne, sitting up and putting his old-fashioned revolver away.
    â€œI see your lock has gone the way of mine, Alice’s, the Black House, and Sylvester Mayhew’s elusive gold.”
    Thorne drew the patchwork comforter about him, his old lips blue. “Well, Queen?”
    Ellery lit a cigarette and for a moment stared out Thorne’s window at the streamers of crêpy snow still dropping from the sky. The snow had fallen without a moment’s let-up the entire previous day. “This is a curious business all round, Thorne. The queerest medley of spirit and matter. I’ve just reconnoitered. You’ll be interested to learn that our young friend the Colossus is gone.”
    â€œKeith gone?”
    â€œHis bed hasn’t been slept in at all. I looked.”
    â€œAnd he was away most of yesterday, too!”
    â€œPrecisely. Our surly Crichton, who seems afflicted by a particularly acute case of Weltschmerz , periodically vanishes. Where does he go? I’d give a good deal to know the answer to that question.”
    â€œHe won’t get far in those nasty drifts,” mumbled the lawyer.
    â€œIt gives one, as the French say, to think. Comrade Reinach is gone, too.” Thorne stiffened. “Oh, yes; his bed’s been slept in, but briefly, I judge. Have they eloped together? Separately? Thorne,” said Ellery thoughtfully, “this becomes an increasingly subtle devilment.”
    â€œIt’s beyond me,” said Thorne with another shiver. “I’m just about ready to give up. I don’t see that we’re accomplishing a thing here. And then there’s always that annoying, incredible fact … the house—vanished.”
    Ellery sighed and looked at his wristwatch. It was a minute past seven.
    Thorne threw back the comforter and groped under the bed for his slippers. “Let’s go downstairs,” he snapped.
    â€œExcellent bacon, Mrs. Reinach,” said Ellery. “I suppose it must be a trial carting supplies up here.”
    â€œWe’ve the blood of pioneers,” said Dr. Reinach cheerfully, before his wife could reply. He was engulfing mounds of scrambled eggs and bacon. “Luckily, we’ve enough in the larder to last out a considerable siege. The winters are severe out here—we learned that last year.”
    Keith was not at the breakfast table. Old Mrs. Fell was. She ate voraciously, with the unconcealed greed of the very old, to whom nothing is left of the sensual satisfactions of life but the filling of the belly. Nevertheless, although she did not speak, she contrived as she ate to keep her eyes on Alice, who wore a haunted look.
    â€œI didn’t sleep very well,” said Alice, toying with her coffee cup. Her voice was huskier. “This abominable snow! Can’t we manage