Panzer scowled thoughtfully at his cigarette. “A rather unusual question, Inspector,” he said at last, “and one which is not easy to answer. I know the plans of the theatre very well; I was consulted about them in a conference with the architect before the theatre was built. And I can positively state that the original blueprints did not provide for such medieval devices as concealed passageways, secret closets or anything of that sort. I could enumerate any number of places where a man might hide a comparatively small object like a tophat, but none of them would be proof against a really thorough search.”
“I see.” The Inspector squinted at his fingernails in an appearance of disappointment. “So that doesn’t help. We’ve been over the place from top to bottom, as you know, and we can’t find a trace of it...”
The door opened and Ellery, a trifle begrimed but wearing a cheerful smile, entered. The Inspector glanced at him in eager curiosity. Panzer rose hesitantly with the evident intention of leaving father and son alone. A flash of intelligence shot between the Queens.
“It’s all right, Panzer — don’t go,” said the Inspector peremptorily. “We’ve no secrets from you. Sit down, man!”
Panzer sat down.
“Don’t you think, Dad,” remarked Ellery, perching on the edge of the desk and reaching for his pince-nez, “that this would be an opportune moment to inform Mr. Panzer of tonight’s opening? You remember we decided while he was gone that the theatre might be thrown open to the public this evening and a regular performance given...”
“How could I have forgotten—!” said the Inspector without blinking, although this was the first time he had heard about the mythical decision. “I think we’re about ready, Panzer, to lift the ban on the Roman. We find that we can do nothing further here, so there is no reason for depriving you of your patronage any longer. You may run a performance tonight — in fact, we are most anxious to see a show put on, aren’t we Ellery?”
“‘Anxious’ is hardly the word,” said Ellery, lighting a cigarette. “I should say we insist upon it.”
“Exactly,” murmured the Inspector severely. “We insist upon it, Panzer.”
The manager had bobbed out of his chair, his face shining. “That’s simply splendid, gentlemen!” he cried. “I’ll telephone Mr. Davis immediately to let him know the good news. Of course” — his face fell — “it’s terribly late to expect any sort of response from the public for tonight’s performance. Such short notice...”
“You needn’t worry about that, Panzer,” retorted the Inspector. “I’ve caused your shutdown and I’ll see that the theatre is compensated for it tonight. I’ll get the newspaper boys on the wire and ask them to ballyhoo the opening in the next edition. It will mean a lot of unexpected publicity for you and undoubtedly the free advertising, combined with the normal curiosity of the public, will give you a sellout.”
“That’s sporting of you, Inspector,” said Panzer, rubbing his hands. “Is there anything else I can do for you at the moment?”
“There’s one item you’ve forgotten, Dad,” interposed Ellery. He turned to the swart little manager. “Will you see that LL32 and LL30 Left are not sold tonight? The Inspector and I would enjoy seeing this evening’s performance. We’ve not really had that pleasure yet, you know. And naturally we wish to preserve a stately incognito, Panzer — dislike the adulation of the crowd and that sort of thing. You’ll keep it under cover, of course.”
“Anything you say, Mr. Queen. I’ll instruct the cashier to put aside those tickets,” returned Panzer pleasantly. “And now, Inspector — you said you would telephone the press, I believe—?”
“Certainly.” Queen took up the telephone and held pithy conversations with the city editors of a number of metropolitan newspapers. When he had finished Panzer bade them a hurried good-by to get busy with the telephone.
Inspector Queen and his son strolled out into the orchestra, where they found Flint and the two detectives who had been examining the boxes awaiting them.
“You men hang around the theatre on general principles,” ordered the Inspector. “Be particularly careful this afternoon... Any of you find anything?”
Flint scowled. “I ought to be digging clams in Canarsie,” he said with a disgruntled air. “I fell down on the job Monday night, Inspector, and I’m blamed if I could find a thing for you today. That place upstairs is swept as clean as a hound’s tooth. Guess I ought to go back to pounding a beat.”
Queen slapped the big detective on the shoulder. “What’s the matter with you? Don’t be acting like a baby, lad. How on earth could you find anything when there wasn’t anything to find? You fellows get something?” he demanded, swinging on the other two men.
They shook their heads in a gloomy negation.
A moment later the Inspector and Ellery climbed into a passing taxicab and settled back for the short drive to headquarters. The old man carefully closed the glass sliding window separating the driver’s seat from the interior of the car.
