Grateful Acknowledgment Is Made to Professor Alexander Goettler Chief Toxicologist of the City of New York For His Friendly Offices in the Preparation of This Tale...

Note: The complete list of individuals, male and female, brought into the story of Monte Field’s murder and appended below is given solely for the convenience of the reader. It is intended to simplify...

Actors’ dressing-rooms. Frances Ives-Pope’s seat. Benjamin Morgan’s seat. Aisle-seats occupied by “Parson Johnny” Cazzanelli and Madge O’Connell. Dr. Stuttgard’s seat. Orangeade boys’ stands (only dur...

I have been asked by both publisher and author to write a cursory preface to the story of Monte Field’s murder. Let me say at once that I am neither a writer nor a criminologist. To make authoritative...

The dramatic season of 192‒ began in a disconcerting manner. Eugene O’Neill had neglected to write a new play in time to secure the financial encouragement of the intelligentsia; and as for the “lowbr...

The dramatic season of 192‒ began in a disconcerting manner. Eugene O’Neill had neglected to write a new play in time to secure the financial encouragement of the intelligentsia; and as for the “lowbr...

There was nothing remarkable in either the physique or the manner of Inspector Richard Queen. He was a small, withered, rather mild-appearing old gentleman. He walked with a little stoop and an air of...

There was a silence as the four men regarded each other with a dawning conviction. Panzer shuffled his feet and coughed nervously; Velie’s face was a study in concentrated thought; Ellery stepped back...

Some natures, through peculiar weakness, cannot endure the sight of a whining man. Of all the silent, threatening group ringed about the abject figure called “Parson,” Ellery alone experienced a sick ...

Queen made his way across the broad red carpet covering the rear of the orchestra, his hat pulled down over his eyes. He was searching the recesses of his pocket for the inevitable snuffbox. The Inspe...

Inspector Richard Queen was a peculiar man. Small and wiry, thatched with grey and wrinkled in fine lines of experience, he might have been a business executive, a night-watchman, or what he chose. Ce...

“Let’s see where we stand,” continued Ellery without pausing. “Let’s consider this thing in its most elementary light. “These, roughly, are the facts: A man of shady character, Monte Field, probable h...

The Queens’ apartment on West 87th Street was a man’s domicile from the pipe-rack over the hearth to the shining sabres on the wall. They lived on the top floor of a three-family brownstone house, a r...

The Queens’ apartment on West 87th Street was a man’s domicile from the pipe-rack over the hearth to the shining sabres on the wall. They lived on the top floor of a three-family brownstone house, a r...

The intruder rose awkwardly to his feet. He was a tall, ponderous man with solemn features and blank eyes. There was nothing distinguished in either his appearance or his manner. If anything unusual c...

It was exactly ten o’clock in the morning when Inspector Queen and his son opened the frosted glass door marked: Monte Field Attorney-at-Law The large waiting-room they entered was decorated in just s...

The telephone bell tinkled. “Q.? Sampson speaking,” came the District Attorney’s voice over the wire. “Good morning, Henry,” said Queen. “Where are you and how do you feel this morning?” “I’m at the o...

Wednesday morning found Djuna pouring the coffee before a bemused Inspector and a chattering Ellery. The telephone bell rang. Both Ellery and his father jumped for the instrument. “Here! What are you ...

Djuna had just cleared the table of the dinner-dishes and was serving coffee to the two Queens at six-thirty that evening when the outer doorbell rang. The little man-of-all-work straightened his tie,...

On Thursday, September 27th, the third morning after the events of the crime in the Roman Theatre, Inspector Queen and Ellery rose at an early hour and dressed hastily. They repaired to a makeshift br...

On Thursday, September 27th, the third morning after the events of the crime in the Roman Theatre, Inspector Queen and Ellery rose at an early hour and dressed hastily. They repaired to a makeshift br...

Detective Hagstrom was a phlegmatic man. He traced his ancestry to the mountains of Norway, where stolidity was a virtue and stoicism the ultimate cult. Nevertheless, as he leaned against a gleaming m...

Ellery and his father regarded each other across the length of the little office. Velie had resumed his seat with a puzzled frown. He sat quietly for a time in the growing silence, seemed suddenly to ...

“Sit down, Tim⁠—have a cup of coffee?” Timothy Cronin, a keen-eyed man of medium height thatched plentifully with fire-red hair, seated himself in one of the Queens’ comfortable chairs and accepted th...

At Friday noon, while Inspector Queen, Ellery and Timothy Cronin were deep in their search of Monte Field’s rooms, Sergeant Velie, sombre and unmoved as usual, walked slowly up 87th Street from Broadw...

The current vogue in detective literature is all for the practice of placing the reader in the position of chief sleuth. I have prevailed upon Mr. Ellery Queen to permit at this point in The Roman Hat...

It was notable, particularly to District Attorney Sampson, that on Saturday evening Inspector Richard Queen was far from being himself. The old man was irritable, snappish and utterly uncongenial. He ...

It was notable, particularly to District Attorney Sampson, that on Saturday evening Inspector Richard Queen was far from being himself. The old man was irritable, snappish and utterly uncongenial. He ...

For the first time in a week Inspector Queen was genuinely himself as he strode cheerfully into his tiny office at the headquarters building and shied his coat at a chair. It was Monday morning. He ru...

On Tuesday evening, October second, promptly at 11:30 p.m., a tall man wearing a soft black hat and a black overcoat, the collar pulled up around his face to keep out the raw night-air, sauntered out ...

Inspector Queen sat at the writing-desk in his living-room scribbling industriously on a long narrow sheet of notepaper headed The Queens. It was Wednesday morning⁠—a fair Wednesday morning, with the ...

“The Mimic Murders.” This crime in its fiction form has not yet reached the public. —⁠J. J. McC. ↩ Ellery Queen made his bow as his father’s unofficial counsel during this investigation. ↩ Chicago Pre...