Free Egyptian Cross Mystery by Ellery Queen

suppose.”
    “The truth never hurt anybody,” said Vaughn coldly. “Go on, Mr. Lincoln.”
    Lincoln blinked twice. “I met Mrs. Brad and Helene in the lobby. We went home. …”
    “By car?” asked Isham.
    “No, by the Long Island. When we got off the train Fox wasn’t there with the car and we took a taxi home.”
    “Taxi?” muttered Vaughn. He stood thinking, then without a word left the room. The Brad women and Lincoln stared after him with fright in their eyes.
    “Go on,” said Isham impatiently. “See anything wrong when you got home? What time was it?”
    “I don’t really know. About one o’clock, I suppose.” Lincoln’s shoulders drooped.
    “After one,” said Helene. “You don’t remember, Jonah.”
    “Yes. We saw nothing out of the way. The path to the summerhouse …” Lincoln shivered. “We didn’t think of looking there. We couldn’t have seen anything, anyway—it was too dark. We went to bed.”
    Inspector Vaughn came back quietly.
    “How is it, Mrs. Brad,” asked Isham, “that you didn’t know your husband was missing until this morning, as you told me before?”
    “We sleep—we slept in adjoining bedrooms,” explained the woman from pale lips. “So I wouldn’t know, you see. Helene and I retired … The first we knew of what—happened to Thomas was when Fox got us out of bed this morning.”
    Inspector Vaughn stepped over and bent to whisper something into Isham’s ear. The District Attorney nodded vaguely.
    “How long have you been living in this house, Mr. Lincoln?” asked Vaughn.
    “A long time. How many years is it, Helene?” The tall New Englander turned to look at Helene; their eyes met and flashed in sympathy. The man braced his shoulders, drew a deep breath, and the glassiness in his eyes vanished.
    “Eight, I think, Jonah.” Her voice trembled, and for the first time tears clouded her eyes. “I—I was just a kid when you and Hester came.”
    “Hester?” repeated Vaughn and Isham together. “Who’s she?”
    “My sister,” replied Lincoln in a calmer voice. “She and I were left orphans early in life. I’ve—well, she goes with me as naturally as my name.”
    “Where is she? Why haven’t we seen her?”
    Lincoln said quietly: “She’s on the Island.”
    “Oyster Island?” drawled Ellery. “How interesting. She hasn’t become a sun worshiper by any chance, Mr. Lincoln?”
    “Why, how did you know?” exclaimed Helene. “Jonah, you haven’t—”
    “My sister,” explained Lincoln with difficulty, “is something of a faddist. Goes in for things like that. This lunatic who calls himself Harakht rented the Island from the Ketchams—old-timers who live on the Island; own it, in fact—and started a cult. Sun cult and—well, nudism …” He strangled over something in his throat “Hester—well, Hester became interested in—the people over there, and we had a quarrel over it. She’s headstrong, and left Bradwood to join the cult. The damned fakers!” he said savagely. “I shouldn’t be surprised if they had something to do with this ghastly business.”
    “Shrewd, Mr. Lincoln,” murmured Professor Yardley.
    Ellery coughed gently and addressed the rigid figure of Mrs. Brad. “I’m sure you won’t mind answering a few personal questions?” She looked up, and down at the hands in her lap. “I understand that Miss Brad is your daughter and was your husband’s stepdaughter. A second husband, Mrs. Brad?”
    The handsome woman said: “Yes.”
    “Mr. Brad had been previously married as well?”
    She bit her lips. “We—we were married twelve years. Tom—I don’t know much about his first—his first wife. I think he was married in Europe, and his first wife died very young.”
    “Tch-tch,” said Ellery with a sympathetic frown. “What part of Europe, Mrs. Brad?”
    She looked at him and a slow flush filled her cheeks. “I don’t really know. Thomas was Roumanian. I suppose it happened—there.”
    Helene Brad tossed her