Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine 11/01/12 Read Online Free Page A

bedroom is empty."
    "Not the other bedroom. The dressing room. Look under the tablecloth of the
     special exhibit. It's long enough to conceal someone."
    Two policemen left the room. He heard them enter the dressing room, then the
     sounds of a brief scuffle. In a moment they reentered the room escorting a
     handcuffed, writhing prisoner. It was a man Henley had never seen before, a
     diminutive bald man in a dress shirt, suit trousers, and sneakers.
    "Jarvis Dedlock," said Thatcher Finn, shocked.
    The former director of the museum.
    "They said I'd just missed you this morning," said Henley. "But you never left
     the house, did you? Mrs. Pierce looked the other way when you slipped upstairs.
     You convinced her that you were innocent and were springing a trap for the real
     thief."
    "But he turned in his keys," said Finn.
    "Duplicates," said Henley. He turned to Jarvis Dedlock. "When did you steal the
     letter?"
    Dedlock didn't even bother to ask who Henley was. He must have overheard the
     entire conversation from his hiding place next-door. After a moment, he
     shrugged. "Two days ago. As soon as the authenticators from the British Library
     left the building."
    "And where did you hide it?"
    Dedlock snorted. "I didn't hide it. I took it home with me." He paused, as if
     waiting to see if Henley would work it all out.
    "You took a priceless letter home," said Henley, "but you brought it back with
     you this morning when you came to turn in your keys. Why would you do that?"
    Dedlock said nothing.
    Henley worked it out as he talked. "You hid all day in this cupboard with perhaps
     the most valuable letter in the collection. Why? You weren't trying to return it
     to the archive. You could have done that at five o'clock when the place closed
     and you had the premises to yourself."
    Now everyone was listening to him.
    "You slipped out, found my briefcase downstairs, and loaded it with Dickens
     memorabilia. But if you'd simply been planning to steal, you could have left
     immediately while the museum was still deserted. Instead, you went back to your
     hiding place and waited for everyone to return for the performance tonight."
    Dedlock appeared to gain some respect for Henley. "You're clever for a Yank.
     Cleverer than most." He glared with loathing at Thatcher Finn.
    Then Henley caught on. "You came for revenge. You must have really hated Ravi
     Vikram. To wait here for him to arrive at intermission."
    "He got me sacked," said Dedlock. "Complained to the board that materials were
     missing. All the evidence against me was circumstantial, but they held me
     accountable."
    Henley nodded. His eye caught on the apple core still in the corner of the room.
     "You were so tidy. Why eat the apple and toss the remains onto the floor?"
    "I thought it was Finn's apple," said Dedlock. "I thought I was taking his
     briefcase from his desk."
    Henley understood it all. "You thought you were framing Thatcher Finn, not me. In
     one move you'd get rid of your accuser and your replacement. Did you expect to
     get your job back?"
    Dedlock stared straight at him. "Not only would I get my position back, but the
     Governing Board would apologize for ever doubting me."
    When Henley eventually spoke to Suzanne McClain on the telephone, it was midnight
     in London, seven p.m. in the States. "I solved the mystery," he said.
    "Already?" She sounded genuinely impressed. "So tell me. Why did Dickens write
     novels instead of plays?"
    "Because he could be in complete control as a novelist," said Henley. "In plays
     actors could change lines or ad-lib or otherwise tamper with his scripts. When
     he was the narrator of a story, he was in total command of each gesture, speech,
     thought. He got to play every part himself, always perfectly."
    She approved. "How did you conclude that so quickly?"
    He told her about his evening. "Jarvis Dedlock had scripted the plot right down
     to what the Governing Board would say when they reinstated him. But a couple of