The Blue Movie Murders by Ellery Queen Page A

bed. My room was about three doors from his, and in the morning just after I woke up, I heard what might have been two shots.”
    â€œWhat time was this?”
    â€œShortly before eight. I didn’t think much of it at the time. You always hear noises in hotels. But after I dressed I phoned his room and there was no answer. I went down the hall and knocked on his door, but there still was no answer. I knew he wouldn’t have gone out without telling me, so I phoned downstairs and got the manager. We opened the door and found his body.”
    â€œWhat time was this?”
    â€œAbout nine o’clock.”
    â€œThere was no sign that the door had been forced?”
    â€œNone. Mr. Sloane knew his murderer—or at least was expecting a visit at that hour of the morning.”
    â€œWhich gets us back to the letters and phone calls. You said there were several letters.”
    â€œFour. As I told you the other day, Xavier Mann received one, and the mayor, and a couple of police officials.”
    â€œCan you remember the exact names?”
    â€œI think so. Xavier Mann, Mayor Frank Jordan, Police Chief Walter Burns, and State Police Major Philip Hart.”
    McCall nodded. “I’ve talked to Mann and Jordan. It seems that Burns simply passed his letter on to Lieutenant Powell. That leaves Major Hart. I’ll try to see him tomorrow.”
    â€œI heard the Lieutenant say that Chief Burns was away at a police convention. I don’t know about Major Hart.”
    â€œHe’s around. He phoned the Governor to report the killing.”
    â€œYou can’t think one of them killed Mr. Sloane?”
    â€œIt’s hard to say. The word could have been passed along. Mann, for example, might have mentioned the letter to his wife, or to his plant manager.”
    â€œWhat motive could his wife have?”
    McCall decided not to tell her. He shrugged and said instead, “You’ll keep that film in the safe?”
    â€œDon’t worry. Nobody will steal it.”
    â€œGood. It could be of use later on.”
    â€œYou’re going back up there?”
    He nodded. “In fact, I have to catch a plane an hour from now. You’ll excuse me if I dash off?”
    Her round face bobbed up and down. He wasn’t certain if the expression of seeing the film had aroused some sensual tiger deep in her, but he wasn’t about to stay and find out. Suzanne Walsh just wasn’t his type.
    The small airport at Rockview was almost deserted when the plane from New York settled on to the runway at a little after eleven that night. McCall strolled quickly across the waiting room, heading for the lot where he’d left his car. A familiar voice halted him at the door.
    â€œMike! Over here!”
    He turned to see April Evans running towards him. She wore bright red slacks and a tan car coat open in front. He didn’t mind seeing her in the least. “Aren’t you up late?”
    â€œI wanted to meet you. But I’d just about given up hope. That was the last flight from New York.”
    â€œMy business took longer than I’d planned.”
    â€œGot time for a drink?”
    â€œMaybe. Back at my place. That hotel of yours gives me the creeps.”
    She glanced towards the parking lot. “I have a car that I rented—”
    â€œI’ll bring you back for it, later.”
    â€œSounds good,” she said.
    On the way back to the motel they passed a little carnival with a carousel and a few other rides. It seemed a sure sign that summer was not far off, and it gave McCall a feeling of rebirth.
    They had the drink in his room, and then they had another one. Halfway through the second, April asked him, “Do you know why carousels always move in counterclockwise direction?”
    â€œNo. Tell me.”
    â€œIt’s because the very first carousels were training horses for young European princes. They rode the wooden horses and learned how to handle