Read Queens Full for Free Online Page B

down, Miss Truslow,” Newby’s soft voice said from below. “You, too, Fowler.”
    Joan sat down immediately.
    Whatever it was that Roger glimpsed in her violet eyes, it silenced him. He joined her on the couch, reached for her hand. She withdrew it.
    Newby said, “Miss Truslow, when did you make your last stage exit?”
    â€œAt the end of my scene with Foster Benedict on the—on this couch.”
    â€œHow long before the act ended was that?”
    â€œAbout ten minutes.”
    â€œDid you go right to your dressing room?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œIn doing that, you had to pass by the tool chest. Was it open?”
    â€œThe chest? I can’t say. I didn’t notice much of anything.” Joan caught her hands in the act of twisting in her lap, and she stilled them. “I was badly upset. They must have told you what he—the way he carried on during our big scene.”
    â€œYes. I hear he gave you a rough time.” The little chief sounded sympathetic. “But you did notice the tool chest later, Miss Truslow, didn’t you?”
    She looked up. “Later?”
    â€œIn the intermission. After Benedict got to his dressing room.”
    Joan blinked into the lights. “But you don’t understand, Chief Newby. I went straight to my dressing room and I stayed there. I was … frozen, I suppose is the word. I just sat asking myself how I was going to get through the rest of the play. It was all I could think of.”
    â€œWhile you were up there, did you hear anything going on in the room below? Benedict’s dressing room?”
    â€œI don’t remember hearing anything.”
    â€œWhen did you leave your dressing room, Miss Truslow?”
    â€œWhen I heard all the commotion downstairs. After he was found.”
    â€œThat was the first time, you say?”
    â€œYes.”
    Newby said suddenly, “Fowler, Queen found you with this girl. How come?”
    â€œHow come?” Roger snapped. “Why, somebody ran into the prop room to tell me something had happened to Benedict. I ran back with him and spotted Joan in the crowd around Benedict’s doorway. I hauled her out of there and up to her dressing room so I could put my arms around her in privacy when she broke down, which she promptly did. Wasn’t that sneaky of me?”
    â€œThen that was the first time you saw her after she left the stage?”
    â€œI couldn’t get to her before, though God knows I wanted to. I was too tied up backstage—” Roger halted. “That was sneaky of you , Newby. And damn nasty, too! What are you trying to prove, anyway?”
    â€œMiss Truslow, how well did you know Foster Benedict?”
    Ellery saw Joan go stiff. “Know him?”
    â€œWere you two acquainted? Ever see him before tonight?”
    She said something.
    â€œWhat? I couldn’t hear that.”
    Joan cleared her throat. “No.”
    â€œLogan.” A police officer jumped off the apron and darted to his chief. Newby said something behind his hand. The man hurried up the aisle and out of the theater. “Miss Truslow, a witness says that when Benedict went into his dressing room the tool chest was open and a big knife with a taped handle was lying in the tray. I’ll ask you again. Did you or didn’t you leave your dressing room, climb down, go to the chest—”
    â€œI didn’t,” Joan cried.
    â€œâ€”go to the chest, pick up the knife—”
    â€œHold it.” Roger was on his feet. “You really want to know about that knife, Newby?”
    â€œYou have some information about it?”
    â€œDefinitely.”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œIt’s mine.”
    â€œOh?” Newby sat waiting.
    â€œI can prove it,” Roger said quickly. “If you’ll strip the tape off you’ll find my initials machine-stamped into the haft. I’ve used it on hunting trips for years. I brought it to the