Queen came at last to LL32 Left — the seat in which Monte Field had died. He made a painstaking examination of the cushions, a light of resignation in his eyes. Muttering to himself he walked slowly across the carpet at the rear of the theatre and entered Panzer’s office. A few moments later he reappeared, only to make his way to the cubicle which was used as an office by the publicity man, Harry Neilson. He was in this compartment for some time. He came out and visited the cashiers’ offices. Shutting the door behind him when he had finished, he wended his way down the steps on the right of the theatre leading to the general lounge, on the floor below the orchestra. Here he took his time, delving into every corner, every niche in the wall, every waste container — all of which he found to be empty. He speculatively eyed the large bin standing directly under the water fountain. He peered into this receptacle and pottered away, finding nothing. Thereupon with a sigh he opened the door on which was gilt-lettered, LADIES’ REST ROOM, and went inside. A few moments later he reappeared to push his way through the swinging doors marked GENTLEMEN.
When his meticulous search of the lower floor was completed he trudged up the steps again. In the orchestra he found Louis Panzer waiting, slightly flushed from his exertions but displaying a triumphant smile. The little manager was carrying a small parcel wrapped in brown paper.
“So you saw Cronin after all, Panzer?” said the Inspector, scurrying forward. “This is mighty nice of you, my boy — I appreciate it more than I can say. Is this the package Cronin gave you?”
“It is. A very nice chap, Cronin. I didn’t have to wait long after I telephoned you. He came in with two other men named Stoates and Lewin. He didn’t keep me more than ten minutes altogether. I hope it was important, Inspector?” Panzer continued, smiling. “I should like to feel that I’ve been instrumental in clearing up part of the puzzle.”
“Important?” echoed the Inspector, taking the parcel from the manager’s hand. “You have no idea how important it is. Some day I’ll tell you more about it... Will you excuse me a moment, Panzer?”
The little man nodded in a fleeting disappointment as the Inspector grinned, backing off into a dark corner. Panzer shrugged and disappeared into his office.
When he came out, hat and coat left behind, the Inspector was stuffing the parcel into his pocket.
“Did you get what you wanted, sir?” inquired Panzer.
“Oh, yes, yes, indeed!” Queen said, rubbing his hands. “And now — I see Ellery is still gone — suppose we go into your office for a few minutes and while away the time until he returns.”
They went into Panzer’s sanctum and sat down. The manager lit a long Turkish cigarette while the Inspector dipped into his snuffbox.
“If I’m not presuming, Inspector,” said Panzer casually, crossing his short fat legs and emitting a cloud of smoke, “how are things going?”
Queen shook his head sadly. “Not so well — not so well. We don’t seem to be getting anywhere with the main angles of the case. In fact, I don’t mind telling you that unless we get on the track of a certain object we face failure... It’s pretty hard on me — I’ve never encountered a more puzzling investigation.” He wore a worried frown as he snapped the lid of his snuffbox shut.
“That’s too bad, Inspector,” Panzer clucked in sympathy. “And I was hoping — Ah, well! We can’t put our personal concerns above the demands of justice, I suppose! Just what is it you are seeking, Inspector, if you don’t mind telling an outsider?”
Queen brightened. “Not at all. You’ve done me a good turn this morning and — By jingo, how stupid of me not to think of this before!” Panzer leaned forward eagerly. “How long have you been manager of the Roman Theatre, Panzer?”
The manager raised his eyebrows. “Ever since it was built,” he said. “Before that I managed the old Electra on 43rd Street — it is also owned by Gordon Davis,” he explained.
“Oh!” The Inspector seemed to reflect deeply. “Then you would know this theatre from top to bottom — you would be as familiar with its construction as the architect, perhaps?”
“I have a rather thorough knowledge of it, yes,” confessed Panzer, leaning back.
“That’s excellent! Let me give you a little problem, then, Panzer... Suppose you wished to conceal a — let us say, a tophat — somewhere in the building, in such a way that not even an exhaustive search of the premises would bring it to light. What would you do? Where would you hide it?”
