Which Way to Die?

Which Way to Die? Read Free

Book: Which Way to Die? Read Free
Author: Ellery Queen
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Yoder. “You won’t have to check my prints against any you find, because I haven’t fingered it. You still have the file of notes in the Audrey Martello case?”
    â€œSure, Tim. You know we never throw anything away.”
    â€œSee if you can match this one with one of the old ones.”
    â€œI suppose we’ll get dozens,” Yoder said wearily. “After all the lab work I did on that case, I’m thinking about writing one myself. How’d the court decision hit you?”
    â€œWhere it hurts,” Corrigan said. “What makes it worse, we now have to give the sons all the protection other citizens are entitled to.”
    â€œI’m glad it’s not my job. Well, send it over,” Yoder said. “I’m only up to my belly button in work.”
    Corrigan hung up, used the eraser and letter-opener to refold the note and tuck it back into its envelope, then slid the envelope into a clasp envelope and took the clasp envelope out into the squadroom. Meisenheimer was writing a report at one of the desks.
    â€œSend this over to the lab, Meis. It’s for Yoder. And tell the messenger not to get itchy fingers. This thing is to be checked for latent prints.”
    From behind a billow of meerschaum smoke the big man said, “Crank, Tim?”
    â€œIt’s unsigned,” Corrigan said shortly. Not every unsigned letter came from a crank. Sometimes the non-signer only wanted it to appear that way.
    Meisenheimer stared after him, shaking his head.
    Corrigan crossed the squadroom to Inspector Macelyn’s office. He rapped on the door, and a bass voice said, “It’s about time!”
    Macelyn was an ageless man who looked forty, could have been fifty, and was actually just past sixty. He could be as tough with his men as a Marine D.I., but he was also mother hen to every man in his department. If he could be said to have a pet, Corrigan was it. And certainly Corrigan felt close to him. The Inspector had been the prowl-car partner of Corrigan’s father in their youth. That was only part of the reason, however. Corrigan considered Macelyn an outstanding executive officer, and Macelyn knew that Corrigan was the best man on the Main Office Squad.
    The Inspector took a cigar from his mouth and waved it at a chair before the desk. “Sorry I sounded off, Tim—I’ve been waiting. Sit down.” Corrigan took a chair, and waited. Macelyn said, “You’ve heard about the court decision in the Alstrom-Grant case?”
    â€œYes, sir. In fact, I just received the first crank note about it. I’ve sent it over to the lab.”
    â€œThey’re starting to come in so soon?” Macelyn growled. “Well, that’s an indication of what we’re up against.”
    â€œWe?” Corrigan said. “You mean Alstrom and Grant.”
    â€œI mean the Main Office Squad. We’ve been handed the job of keeping them alive.”
    â€œOh, great,” Corrigan said with disgust. “For how long?”
    The Inspector jammed the cigar back into his mouth. “It could be worse. For just long enough to get them from Sing Sing to wherever they want to go. I don’t know where that is, except that it’ll probably not be their homes on Long Island. For security reasons no advance information will be forthcoming. Only the two themselves, their parents, and their lawyers know their destination.”
    â€œAnd I’m elected to play nursemaid?”
    â€œThe Commissioner specifically asked for you. Incidentally, they’re being released Thursday, not Friday. The Friday date was given out to throw a curve to anybody who might have ideas.”
    â€œLike Marty Martello,” Corrigan said grimly. “It’s cutting it fine, but maybe it’ll keep me from having to fight my way through a mob of reporters. What’s the procedure?”
    â€œI really don’t know. Except that you’re to ride up to Ossining

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