Egyptian Cross Mystery by Ellery Queen

ashamed.
    “Well, we’ll look into that a little later,” said Vaughn lightly. “You say this Dr. Temple owns the estate adjoining on the east?”
    “He doesn’t own it; he just rents it—rented it from Thomas.” Mrs. Brad’s eyes were relieved. “He’s been here for a long time. A retired army doctor. He and Thomas were good friends.”
    “Who lives on that piece of property to the west?”
    “Oh! An English couple named Lynn—Percy and Elizabeth,” replied Mrs. Brad.
    Helene murmured: “I met them in Rome last fall and we became very friendly. They said they were thinking of paying a visit to the States and so I suggested that they come back with me and be my guests for the duration of their stay.”
    “Just when did you return, Miss Brad?” asked Ellery.
    “About Thanksgiving. The Lynns crossed with me, but we separated in New York and they traveled about a bit seeing the country. Then in January they came up here. They were wild about the place—” Lincoln grunted, and Helene flushed. “They were, Jonah! So much so that, not wanting to impose on our hospitality—it was silly, of course, but you know how stuffy the English can be sometimes—they insisted on leasing the house to the west, which is—was father’s property. They’ve been here ever since.”
    “Well, we’ll talk to them, too,” said Isham. “This Dr. Temple, now. You said, Mrs. Brad, that he and your husband were good friends. Best of terms, eh?”
    “There’s nothing in that direction,” said Mrs. Brad stiffly, “if you’re insinuating, Mr. Isham. I’ve never been overfond of Dr. Temple myself, but he’s an upright man and Thomas, a wonderful judge of character, liked him tremendously. They often played checkers together in the evening.”
    Professor Yardley sighed, as if slightly bored with this recital of the neighbors’ vices and virtues when he himself could provide a more penetrating analysis.
    “Checkers!” exclaimed Inspector Vaughn. “Now, that’s something. Who else played with Mr. Brad, or was this Dr. Temple his only opponent?”
    “No, indeed! We all played with Thomas on occasion.”
    Vaughn looked disappointed. Professor Yardley rubbed his black Lincolnian beard and said: “I’m afraid you’re on barren ground there, Inspector. Brad was a fiendishly clever checker player, and tackled everyone who came here for a bout. If they didn’t know how to play, he insisted—with patience, to be sure—on teaching them. I think,” he chuckled, “that I was the only visitor here who successfully resisted his blandishments.” Then he became grave and fell silent.
    “He was a remarkable player,” said Mrs. Brad with a faint sad pride. “I was told that by the National Checker Champion himself.”
    “Oh, you’re a good player yourself, then?” asked Isham quickly.
    “No, no, Mr. Isham. But we entertained the champion last Christmas Eve, and Thomas and he played incessantly. The champion said that Thomas held him quite even.”
    Ellery jumped to his feet, his keen face intent. “I believe we’re wearing these good people out. A few questions, and we’ll not bother you again, Mrs. Brad. Have you ever heard the name Velja Krosac?”
    Mrs. Brad looked genuinely puzzled. “Vel—what a queer name! No, Mr. Queen, I never have.”
    “You, Miss Brad?”
    “No.”
    “You, Mr. Lincoln?”
    “No.”
    “Have you ever heard the name Kling?”
    They all shook their heads.
    “Andrew Van?”
    Another blank.
    “Arroyo, West Virginia?”
    Lincoln muttered: “What is this, anyway? A game?”
    “In a way,” smiled Ellery. “You haven’t, any of you?”
    “No.”
    “Well, then, here’s one you certainly can answer. Exactly when did this fanatic who calls himself Harakht come to Oyster Island?”
    “Oh, that!” said Lincoln. “In March.”
    “Was this man Paul Romaine with him?”
    Lincoln’s face darkened. “Yes.”
    Ellery scrubbed his pince-nez, perched it on the bridge of his straight nose, and