Inspector Queen turned his head. “And why do you ask that bright question, young man?” “Because,” returned Ellery, with a grimace, “unless my eyesight fails me, the chap’s tophat is not under the seat, on the floor beside him, or anywhere in the general vicinity.” “So you noticed that too, did you, Ellery?” said the Inspector grimly. “It’s the first thing I saw when I bent down to examine him—or rather the first thing I didn’t see.” The Inspector seemed to lose his geniality as he spoke. His brow wrinkled and his grey mustache bristled fiercely. He shrugged his shoulders. “And no hat-check in his clothes, either.... Flint!” A husky young man in plain clothes hurried forward. “Flint, suppose you exercise those young muscles of yours by getting down on your hands and knees and hunting for a tophat. It ought to be somewhere around here.” “Right, Inspector,” said Flint cheerfully, and he began a methodical search of the indicated area. “Velie,” said Queen, in a businesslike tone, “suppose you find Ritter and Hesse and—no, those two will do—for me, will you?” Velie walked away. “Hagstrom!” shouted the Inspector to another detective standing by. “Yes, Chief.” “Get busy with this stuff”—he pointed to the two small piles of articles he had taken from Field’s pockets and which lay on the floor—“and be sure to put them safely away in my own bags.” As Hagstrom knelt by the body, Ellery quietly bent over and opened the coat. He immediately jotted a memorandum on the fly-leaf of the book in which he had drawn a diagram some time before. He muttered to himself, patting the volume, “And it’s a Stendhause private edition, too!” Velie returned with Ritter and Hesse at his heels. The Inspector said sharply, “Ritter, go to this man’s apartment. His name is Monte Field, he was an attorney, and he lived at 113 West 75th Street. Stick around until you’re relieved. If any one shows up, nab him.” Ritter, touching his hat, mumbled, “Yes, Inspector,” and turned away. “Now, Hesse, my lad,” continued the Inspector to the other detective, “hurry down to 51 Chambers Street, this man’s office, and wait there until you hear from me. Get inside if you can, otherwise park outside the door all night.” “Right, Inspector.” Hesse disappeared. Queen turned about and chuckled as he saw Ellery, broad shoulders bent over, examining the dead man. “Don’t trust your father, eh, Ellery?” the Inspector chided. “What are you snooping for?” Ellery smiled, straightening up. “I’m merely curious, that’s all,” he said. “There are certain things about this unsavory corpse that interest me hugely. For example, have you taken the man’s head measurement?” He held up a piece of string, which he had slipped from a wrapped book in his coat pocket, and offered it for his father’s inspection. The Inspector took it, scowled and summoned a policeman from the rear of the theatre. He issued a low-voiced order, the string exchanged hands and the policeman departed. “Inspector.”