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conditioning, and so on—turned it into one of the snootiest buildings in the neighborhood. I understand that prospective tenants have to go through a tougher check than the security men assigned to the President.”
    â€œI gather not quite,” Ellery suggested.
    â€œI’m coming to that. The place is one of I don’t know how many homes the brothers maintain around the world—especially Nino—but 99 East, as Importuna calls it, seems to be the one they run the conglomerate from, at least the American components.”
    â€œDon’t they have offices?”
    â€œOffices? Whole chains of office buildings! But the real dirty work, the high command decisions, that all originates at 99 East.—Okay, Ellery! But before I can get to the murder—”
    At the lethal word Ellery’s nose twitched like a Saint Bernard’s. “Can’t you at least tell me who was schlogged? How? Where?”
    â€œIf you’ll wait just a minute, son! The setup’s as follows: Nino occupies the penthouse. His brothers Marco and Julio live in the apartments that make up the top floor of the building, the floor directly underneath the penthouse—there are two apartments to a floor except on the roof, and they’re enormous, I don’t know how many rooms to an apartment. You know those swanky old buildings.
    â€œNow the brothers share the services of a confidential secretary, a fellow named Ennis, Peter Ennis, good-looking guy who’s got to be mighty sharp or he wouldn’t be holding down a job like that—”
    â€œConfidential secretary could cover a lot of territory. Just what does Ennis handle for the brothers?”
    â€œTheir personal affairs mostly, he says, although of course, with the brothers operating so much from their homes I don’t see how Ennis could fail to get in on some of the business shenanigans, too. Anyway, this morning, early—”
    â€œAre all the brothers married?”
    â€œNino. The other two are single. Do you want me to get to the murder or don’t you?”
    â€œI’m nothing but ears.”
    â€œWhen Ennis showed up for work this morning, he made his rounds of the three apartments, he says, the way he always does, to get squared away for the day. He found Julio, who’s the youngest brother, dead. Bloody dead—a real mess.”
    â€œ Where did he find him?”
    â€œIn Julio’s apartment, the library there. Importunato had his head beaten in. I mean he was zonked. Just one sock, but it was a beaut—clobbered his brains into mush. On that side, anyway. It’s a nasty homicide, Ellery, and considering the murderee is one of the ruling dynasty of the Importuna empire, it’s a sizzler. The shock waves …” Inspector Queen gulped generously.
    â€œWhat shock waves?”
    â€œDidn’t you listen to the six o’clock news?”
    â€œI haven’t turned the radio on all week. What happened?”
    â€œJulio Importunato’s murder rocked the stock market. Not only Wall Street—the money markets of Europe, too. That was the first aftereffect. The second came down from the commissioner. He’s putting the squeeze on, son—so is the mayor—and I’m one of those caught between the nutcrackers.”
    â€œDamn.” Ellery shafted a malevolent glance at his stubborn typewriter. “And? Well?”
    â€œOn second thought, what’s the point? It’s no use, Ellery. You go on back to your work.” The Inspector made a rather theatrical move to rise. “I’ll manage. Somehow.”
    â€œYou know, you can be an exasperating old man?” Ellery exclaimed. “What do you mean, it’s no use? There’s always a ‘use’! But I can’t be of use if you keep me in ignorance. What are the facts? Are there any clues?”
    â€œOh. Well, yes. At least two.” He stopped.
    â€œAnd?” Ellery snapped after a