“How can it be?”
“Mutilated and burned, Keats. At least two of the four previous warnings also involved violence in some form: the food poisoning, the murder of the frogs...” Ellery sat up.
“What’s the matter?”
“Frogs. Another play by Aristophanes has that exact title. The Frogs.” Keats looked pained.
“But that’s almost certainly a coincidence. The other items wouldn’t begin to fit... The Birds. An unknown what’s-it, food poisoning, dead toads and frogs, an expensive wallet, and now a plushy edition of a Greek social satire first performed ― unless I’ve forgotten my Classics II ― in 414 b.c.”
“And I’m out of cigarets,” grunted Keats. Ellery tossed a pack over. “Thanks. You say there’s a connection?”
“ ‘And for each pace forward a warning... a warning of special meaning for you ― and for him,’ ” Ellery quoted. “That’s what the note said. ‘Meanings for pondering and puzzling.’ ”
“How right he was. I still say, Queen, if this stuff means anything at all, each one stands on its own tootsies.”
“ ‘For each pace forward,’ Keats. It’s going somewhere. No, they’re tied. The whole thing’s a progression.” Ellery shook his head. “I’m not even sure any more that Priam knows what they mean. This one tonight really balls things up. Priam is virtually an illiterate. How could he possibly know what’s meant by the destruction of an old Greek play?”
“What’s it about?”