“If you ask me,” chuckled the Inspector, “our beauteous friend has a crush on you. Consider the opportunities, my son—!” Ellery made a grimace of profound ♦distaste. ♦ “distate” replaced with “distaste” “Well!” Queen reached for one of the telephones on the desk. “Do you think we ought to give Benjamin Morgan another chance, Ellery?” “Hanged if he deserves it,” grumbled Ellery. “But I suppose it’s the routine thing to do.” “You forget the papers, son—the papers,” retorted the Inspector, a twinkle in his eye. He spoke to the police operator in pleasant accents and a few moments later the buzzer sounded. “Good afternoon, Mr. Morgan!” Queen said cheerfully. “And how are you to-day?” “Inspector Queen?” asked Morgan after a slight hesitation. “Good afternoon to you, sir. How is the case progressing?” “That’s a fair question, Mr. Morgan,” laughed the Inspector. “One, however, which I daren’t answer for fear of being accused of incompetency.... Mr. Morgan, are you free this evening by any chance?” Pause. “Why—not free exactly.” The lawyer’s voice was barely audible. “I am due at home, of course, for dinner, and I believe my wife has arranged a little bridge. Why, Inspector?” “I was thinking of asking you to dine with my son and me this evening,” said the Inspector regretfully. “Could you possibly get away for the dinner-hour?” A longer pause. “If it’s absolutely necessary, Inspector—?” “I wouldn’t put it that way exactly, Mr. Morgan.... But I would appreciate your accepting the invitation.” “Oh.” Morgan’s voice came more resolutely now. “In that case I’m at your command, Inspector. Where shall I meet you?” “That’s fine, that’s fine!” said Queen. “How about Carlos’, at six?” “Very well, Inspector,” returned the lawyer quietly and hung up the receiver. “I can’t help feeling sorry for the poor chap,” murmured the old man. Ellery grunted. He was not feeling inclined to sympathize. The taste of Mrs. Angela Russo was still strong in his mouth, and it was not a pleasant taste at all. * * * * * Promptly at six o’clock Inspector Queen and Ellery joined Benjamin Morgan in the convivial atmosphere of Carlos’ restaurant-foyer. He was sitting dejectedly in a red-leather chair, staring at the backs of his hands. His lips drooped sadly, his knees were widely separated in an instinctive attitude of depression. He made a laudable attempt to smile as the two Queens approached. He rose with a firmness that indicated to his keen hosts a mind determined upon a fixed course of action. The Inspector was at his bubbling best, partly because he felt a genuine liking for the corpulent attorney and partly because it was his business. Ellery, as usual, was noncommittal. The three men shook hands like old friends.