“I’m listening.”
“You don’t just pick frogs out of your hat. Frogs mean something.”
“Yeah,” said Keats, “warts.” But his laugh was unconvincing. “Okay, so they mean something. So this all means something. I don’t give a damn what it means. I said, what kind of maniac is this Priam? Does he want to shove off? Without putting up a battle?”
“He’s putting up a battle, Lieutenant,” frowned Ellery. “In his peculiar way, a brave one. To ask for help, even to accept help without asking for it, would be defeat for Priam. Don’t you understand that? He has to be top man. He has to control his own destiny. He has to, or his life has no meaning. Remember, Keats, he’s a man who’s living his life away in a chair. You say he’s asleep now?”
“With Wallace guarding him. I offered a cop, and I nearly got beaned with the Examiner. It was all I could do to make Priam promise he’d keep his doors locked from now on. At that, he didn’t promise.”
“How about that background stuff? On the partners?”
The detective crushed the stained butt in his fist and flipped it in the fireplace. “It’s like pulling teeth,” he said slowly. “I don’t get it. I put two more men on it yesterday.” He snapped a fresh cigaret into his mouth. “The way I see it, Mr. Queen, we’re doing this like a couple of country constables. We’ve got to go right to the horse’s mouth. Priam’s got to talk. He knows the whole story, every answer. Who his enemy is. Why the guy’s nursed a grudge for so many years. Why the fancy stuff―”
“And what was in the box,” murmured Ellery.
“Correct. I promised Dr. Voluta I’d lay off Priam today.” Keats clapped his hat on his head. “But tomorrow I think I’m going to get tough.”
When the detective had left, Ellery wandered out into the hall. The house was moody with silence. Crowe Macgowan had gone loping over to the Hill house to tell Laurel all about the amphibian invasion. The door to Priam’s quarters was shut.