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wasn’t drunk, or anything like that—Carlos never drinks enough to lose his head; at least I’ve never seen him sozzled. I kept getting the feeling he was stalling for time, because he would glance at his watch every once in a while.”
    â€œOh,” said Ellery in an odd voice. And “Oh,” said Harry Burke, in an even odder voice. But while Ellery’s “Oh” had a speculative quality, Burke’s was deep with foreboding; and again Ellery wondered.
    Roberta West leaned forward in an attitude of tense appeal. “I finally got rid of him at midnight. Or rather at midnight, without warning, he suddenly decided to leave. I remember he looked at his watch again and actually said aloud, ‘It’s midnight, Roberta, I’ll have to go.’ As if he had a deadline or something. I didn’t understand any of it. Until later. That’s really why I’m here, Mr. Queen. He used me!”
    â€œIt sounds like it,” Ellery agreed. “But for what?”
    â€œDon’t you know?”
    â€œDon’t I know what, Miss West?”
    â€œThat Glory Guild Armando was murdered Wednesday night?”

5
    Ellery had not seen a New York newspaper for a long time, and if GeeGee’s murder had been reported in the London Times , he had missed the leader in the malty haze of some pub.
    As for Harry Burke, the Scot seemed both knowledgeable and appalled. He stalked over to Ellery’s bar and poured himself a slug out of the handiest bottle, which happened to be bourbon, and tossed it down neat, with no more awareness of what he was doing than if he had raised his hand to scratch himself.
    Ellery kept dividing his attention between the West girl and Burke.
    â€œHow dense of me,” she was saying. “Of course you don’t know about the murder—you’ve been in Europe. Don’t you have this morning’s paper?”
    â€œNo,” Ellery said. “What time did she get it, Miss West, do you know?”
    â€œNot the exact time, no. But I do know, from the news stories, that it was while Carlos was in my apartment Wednesday night. It’s perfectly clear now what he was up to. When he couldn’t talk me into killing his wife last summer, he started looking around for another patsy. And he must have found her—it has to be a her, Mr. Queen; he wouldn’t be able to talk a man into giving him the time of day. So Wednesday night, while this woman did the killing—whoever she is—he made it his business to be in my place. Using me as his alibi! Dragging me into this after I thought I was rid of him and his wife and the whole nasty mess!”
    She seemed on the edge of hysteria, and Ellery went to some lengths to back her away. Burke was marching like a grenadier before the bar now, evidently struggling with a problem.
    â€œQuestion,” Ellery said to the girl. “Just why have you come to me?”
    She was twisting the straps of her bag. “It’s that—well, I’m so alone in this, Mr. Queen. Up to my neck in a horrible situation through no fault of my own—well, perhaps I was at fault to fall for Carlos’s line, but how could I have known what I was getting into? Certainly I couldn’t have dreamed he was scheming to commit murder … Carlos, of course, must have promptly told the police of his alibi, which meant me, because they’ve already been to my apartment to question me, and I naturally had to tell them the truth, which is that he was with me Wednesday night until midnight.”
    â€œDid you tell the officers about Carlos’s proposing to you last May that you murder his wife?”
    â€œNo. I guess I should have, but I just couldn’t bring myself to. I kept thinking how the more I said, the more deeply I’d get involved. So all I did was answer their questions. What do I do , Mr. Queen? How do I get out of this?”
    â€œI’m afraid it’s too late for