Which Way to Die? by Ellery Queen Page A

for second-best; he decided to stick around for a while.
    Everybody but Baer had gone to bed. The redhead was in the front room grumpily watching TV. Corrigan politely inquired if they were keeping him up.
    â€œYes, as a matter of fact,” Baer said. “I can’t go to bed until I’ve let you out and immobilized the elevator. How about saying good night, pal? The news stinks.”
    â€œWatch your television, will you? I feel like a moonlight stroll on the roof. How about it, Norm?”
    â€œI’d love it, Tim.” The glow had deepened.
    Baer said, “How long you planning to stick around?”
    â€œOh, a while,” Corrigan said vaguely.
    â€œSay an hour?”
    Corrigan glanced at Norma. She said, “It’s only eleven, Chuck. You won’t be leaving before midnight, Tim, will you?”
    â€œI guess not,” Corrigan said promptly. “Why not stretch out on the settee, Chuck?”
    â€œI’m going stir-nutty. If you’re going to be here anyway, Tim, how about if I duck out to a bar for a half hour or so?”
    The suggestion found Corrigan may simpáticó .
    â€œYou poor bastard,” he said to the redhead. “Sure thing, Chuck. Go ahead.”
    Baer muttered something about Greeks and gifts and switched off the TV. “I just have to put on a tie and my jacket.”
    Corrigan took charge of the buttons while Baer rode down to the eleventh floor; he brought the car up and immobilized it at the roof. When he got back to the living room, the sliding glass doors were open and Norma was on the roof. He joined her, shutting the doors behind him.
    Norma was standing at the lawn table. She was wearing a white strapless gown which clung to her figure as though she were charged with static electricity. In the moonlight her bare shoulders looked like Chinese ivory.
    Corrigan took her hands and drew her to him. Her arms slipped around his neck and she raised her lips.
    It was not their first kiss. But its predecessors had been mere good-night pecks on the way up in the elevator, inhibited by the knowledge that Chuck Baer would be standing there when the door opened. This was the first moment they had been alone without fear of interruption.
    Corrigan could feel the girl turn to fire in his arms. She writhed against him and made a little moaning noise. He was feeling pretty good himself. But she broke the kiss and pulled away. She whispered, “Not here, Tim. It’s too bright.”
    It was bright. Light from the living room streamed through the glass doors; they might as well be embracing in a spotlight.
    She took his hand and drew him around to the other side of the house. The bedroom windows here were all dark and draped.
    â€œThis is better, isn’t it?” she whispered.
    â€œPerfect, baby.”
    She settled into his arms. This time the kiss left them gasping.
    â€œLet me get my breath!” she giggled. She sank to the grass and pulled him down beside her. The grass was cool and dry.
    Corrigan pressed her back. His lips buried themselves in her throat, then moved down. Norma melted like a candle, sighing.
    And then she turned rigid. There was a sound as of a latch turning a few feet away. She pushed Corrigan off and scrambled to her feet. He was just jumping up when one of the French doors to Norma’s and Mrs. Grant’s bedroom opened.
    Elizabeth Grant, in a quilted robe, her bottle-blonde hair in curlers, blinked out at them.
    â€œOh, it’s you, Norma,” she said. She ignored Corrigan. “I couldn’t imagine what that funny noise was. It sounded like someone in pain.”
    Corrigan could have throttled her.
    â€œSorry we disturbed you, Elizabeth,” Norma said; her voice was muffled. “We’ll be more quiet.”
    She moved in the direction of the wall. Corrigan glanced back as he followed. Mrs. Grant sniffed and pulled the French door shut. He heard her latch it again.
    Norma halted at the edge