by Rex Stout
He tapped ashes from his cigarette. He asked abruptly but not at all pugnaciously, "What is it you want, Mr Wolfe?"
Wolfe shook his head. "Nothing right now. I wanted to see Madame Zorka and your son kindly made that possible."
"Yes, he told me about that. But what else?"
"Nothing at present. Really."
"Well." Barrett smiled. "I understand that as a private investigator you undertake almost any sort of job that promises a fee proportionate to your abilities."
"Yes, sir, I do. Within certain boundaries I have set. I try to keep my prejudices intact."
"Naturally." Barrett laughed sympathetically. "We can't leave it to anyone else to defend our prejudices for us." He tapped off ashes again. "My son also tells me that you are engaged in the interests of a young woman named Tormic who is a friend of his. At least-hum-an acquaintance. In connexion with the murder of that man Ludlow."
"That's right," Wolfe agreed. "I was originally engaged to clear her of a charge of stealing diamonds from a man named Driscoll. Then Mr Ludlow got killed, and Miss Tormic needed a little help on that too because she was implicated by circumstances."
"And was it from this Miss Tormic that you received information which enabled you to put pressure on my son? You did put pressure on him, didn't you?"
"Certainly. I blackmailed him."
"Yes. With a threat to disclose certain facts. Did you get those facts from Miss Tormic?"
"My dear sir." Wolfe wiggled a finger at him. "You can't possibly be fatuous enough to expect me to tell you that."
Barrett smiled at him. "There's always a chance that you might. Especially since there's no good reason why you shouldn't. Are you under obligation to defend the interests of anyone except Miss Tormic?"
"Yes. My own. Always my own."
"That, of course. But anyone else? I should think there would be no impropriety in your telling me if you represent any interest except that of Miss Tormic. For instance, Madame Zorka?"
Wolfe frowned. "I am always reluctant to make a present of information. Just as you are reluctant to make a present of money. You're a banker and your business is selling money; I'm a detective and mine is selling information. But I don't want to be churlish. In connexion with the activities we are speaking of, I represent no interest whatever except that of Miss Tormic."
"And, always, your own."
"Always my own."
"Good." Barrett crushed his cigarette in the tray. "That clears the way for us, I should think. Please don't think I'm fatuous. I've made some inquiries and I find you have an enviable reputation for good faith. I have a proposal to make regarding this little project my firm is interested in. This-um-business you mentioned to my son. We need your services. Nothing onerous, and certainly nothing to offend your prejudices." He pulled a little leather fold from his pocket. "I'll give you a cheque now as a retainer. Say ten thousand dollars?"
I thought to myself, what do you know about that; Donnydarling got his briber's itch honestly, by direct inheritance. Then I grinned, looking at Wolfe. One corner of his mouth was twisted a little out of line, which meant that he was suffering acute pain. It was a situation he had had to face fairly often during the years I had known him, and the torture involved was in direct proportion to the number of cyphers. Ten thousand bucks would have kept a good man, even Ray Borchers, in Central America for a full year, hunting rare orchids, always with the possibility of finding one absolutely new. Or 5,000 cases of beer or 600 pounds of caviare…
He said bravely, but with somewhat more breath than the word should require, "No."
"No?"
"No."
"If I assure you that you will be expected to do nothing that will interfere with the interest you already represent? And in case my assurance doesn't satisfy you, if at any time you find your engagements in conflict you may merely return the ten thousand dollars-"
Wolfe's lip twitched. I turned my head away. But his voice showed that he had it licked: "No, sir. To return that amount of money would ruin my digestion for a week. If I could bring myself to do it, which is doubtful. No, sir. Abandon the idea. I shall accept no commission or retainer from you."
"Is that-um-definite?"
"Irrevocable."
One little vertical crease showed in the middle of Barrett's forehead. With no other sign of fits, he returned the leather fold to his breast pocket, and then regarded Wolfe with what was probably as close to an open stare as he ever got.
"The only recourse that leaves me," he said, with no affability left in his tone at all, "is to draw my own conclusions."
"If you find you must have a conclusion, yes, sir."
"But I confess I'm puzzled. I'm not often puzzled, but I am now. I'm not gullible enough to believe that your interest is only what you profess it to be. I have very good reasons for not believing it besides the fact that in that case there would be no explanation for your refusing my proposal. My son thinks that you are representing either London or Rome, but there are two objections to that: first, no contacts have been reported to us, and second, if that were true why would you have exposed yourself as you did last night? Is it any wonder that we regarded that as an invitation to deal?"
"I'm sorry I misled you," Wolfe murmured.
"But you're not going to tell me whom you're tied up with."
"I have no client but Miss Tormic."
"And you're not prepared to deal with us."
Wolfe shook his head, if not with enthusiasm, with finality.
John P. Barrett stood up. There was a vague sort of vexation on his face, like a man with a feeling that he has gone off and left something somewhere but unable to say either what it was or where he left it.
"I hope," he said, with an edge to his tone, "for your own sake, that you don't happen to get in our way unwittingly. We know who our opponents are, and we know how to handle them. If you're in this on your own and you're trying to play for a haul-"
"Nonsense." Wolfe cut him off. "I'm a detective working on a job. I am not apt to get in anyone's way, or perform any other manoeuvre, unwittingly. I will say this. There is a possibility that in finishing up my own business I'll be compelled to interfere with yours. If that seems likely to occur, I'll let you know in advance."
Bang went another illusion. I wouldn't have supposed that a man of Barrett's appearance and breeding, and especially with the clothes he was wearing, could do or say anything mean. But the look in his eyes at that moment, and the tone of his voice, were plain mean and you could even say nasty. All he said was, "Don't try it, Mr Wolfe. Don't try interfering with my business."
He turned to go.
Fortunately I had noticed the sound of Fritz in the hall and, passing Wolfe a signal to hold Barrett a moment, I bounced up and out, shutting the office door behind me, not in Barrett's face, for he had turned at a remark from Wolfe. As I trotted down the hall Fritz was holding the street door open and three people were entering in the shape of a sandwich: a dick, Zorka, and another dick. Without ceremony or apology I hustled them into the front room and shut them in, then trotted back to the office and nearly knocked Barrett off his pins swinging the door against him.
"Sorry, sir, I did it unwittingly."
He gave me a frosty eye and departed. I stayed there on the threshold until I saw Fritz had got him accoutred and dispatched on his way, and then told Wolfe who had come and asked him if he thought Cramer would prefer to go on looking at orchids. He told me to phone up and tell Horstmann to bring the inspector down, and I did so, and then returned to the front room for Zorka. The two dicks started to come along, and I waved them back and said I would take her to Inspector Cramer.
"We'll help you, buddy," they said, as if they were twins, and stayed as close to her as they could without being vulgar. Wolfe frowned as the four of us cluttered into the office. In a minute we were a neat half-dozen when Cramer joined us, five full-grown men against one dressmaker. One of the dicks got out a notebook and I arranged myself at my des
k with mine. Wolfe leaned back with his clasped hands resting on his meal container, looking at Zorka with his eyes half shut. Cramer was scowling at her.
I had remembered the name of a girl in the Bible she resembled-Delilah. But right then she looked crumby, with puffs under her eyes, scared and nervous, and altogether anything but carefree. I was glad to notice, for Wolfe's sake, that she had snared a dark red woollen suit somewhere, and some shoes and stockings, but it was just like Wolfe to pick on that as the first means of harassing her. Naturally he was sore at her for using his fire escape.
He growled at her, "Where did you get those clothes?"
She looked at the skirt as if she hadn't realized she had it on. "Zeeze-" She stopped, frowning at him.
"I mean the clothes you're wearing. When you left here last night-this morning-all you had on was a red thing. Under your coat. Those things you're wearing now were in the bag and suitcase you took to Miss Reade's apartment. Is that right?"
"You say zey waire."
"Weren't they? Who took them to you at the Hotel Brissenden? Mr Barrett?"
She shrugged.
Cramer barked, "We can prove that; and that's not all we can prove! After those clothes were delivered to you this morning, you put them on and left the hotel, and you were followed."
"Zat ees not true." She set her teeth on her lower lip for a moment, and then went on: "For one sing, if you had me followed, you would know where I was and you would not wait so late to get me and bring me here. For anozzer sing, I did not leave zee hotel, not once until zee men came-"
"That won't get you anywhere! Now, look here-"
"Please, Mr Cramer?" Wolfe opened his eyes. "If you don't mind? Remember what you said, that you'd be no better off if you had stood across the street yourself and seen her go in with him and emerge without him. There's no point in running her up a tree if you have no ammunition to bring her down again."
"Have you?" the inspector demanded.
"I don't know, but I'd like to find out."
Cramer pulled out a cigar and stuck it between his teeth. "Go ahead."
Wolfe cleared his throat and focused on her. "Madame Zorka-is that your name?"
"Of course eet ees."
"I know it's the name on your letterheads and in the telephone book. But were you christened Zorka?"
"Eet ees my name."
"What's the rest of it?"
She fluttered a nervous hand. "Zorka."
"Now, my dear young lady. Last night, inferentially at least, you were drunk. But you're not drunk now, you're merely bedraggled. Do you intend to tell us the rest of your name or not?"
"I…" She hesitated, and then said with sudden determination, "No. I can't."
"Why can't you?"
"Because I-it would be dangerous."
"Dangerous to whom? To you?"
"No, not to me-as much as uzzer people." She took a deep breath. "I am a refugee. I escaped."
"Where from?"
She shook her head.
"Come, come," Wolfe said brusquely. "Not the place, the city, the village, if you think you can't. What country? Germany? Russia? Italy? Yugoslavia?"
"All right. Zat much. Yugoslavia."
"I see. Croatia? Serbia? Montenegro?"
"I said Yugoslavia."
"Yes, but… Very well." Wolfe shrugged. "How long ago did you escape?"
"About one year ago."
"And came to America? To New York?"
"First Paris. Paris some time, then America."
"Did you bring a lot of money with you?"
"Oh, no." She spread out her hands to reject an absurdity. "No money. No refugee could have money."
"But I understand you have a business here in New York which must have cost a good deal to set up."
She almost smiled at him. "I knew you would ask zat. A friend was very kind to me."
"Is the friend's name Donald Barrett?"
She sat silent a moment, just looking at him, and then said, "But I am foolish. Zaire is no disgrace. Anyway, eet ees known to a few people, and you would ask and find out. Zee kind friend who lent me money ees Mr Barrett. He ees, what you call eet, silent partner."
"You're in debt to Mr Barrett, then?"
"Debt?" She frowned. "Oh, debt. Yes, very much."
Wolfe nodded. "I sympathize with you, madame. I hate being in debt. Some people don't seem to mind it. By the way, those people in Yugoslavia-those who might be in danger if you told us the rest of your name-are they relatives of yours?"
"Yes, some. Some relatives."
"Are you Jewish?"
"Oh, no. I am very old Yugoslavian family."
"Indeed. Nobility?"
"Well…" She pulled her shoulders up and together, and released them again.
"I see. I won't press that. The danger to your relatives-would that be on account of your activities in New York?"
"But I have no activities in New York, except my business."
"Then I don't understand how revealing your name would place your relatives in peril."
"Zat ees… eet would be suspect."
"What would be suspect?"
She shook her head.
Cramer growled, "We know damn well she's not normal. I could have told you that much. When we went through her apartment this morning-"
Zorka's head jerked around at him and she squeaked in indignation, "You went through my apartment!"
"Yes, ma'am," he said calmly. "And your place of business. Anybody that stages the kind of performance you did last night can expect some unwelcome attention. You're lucky you're not down at headquarters right now phoning for your kind friend to furnish bail for you, and that's exactly where you'll be when we're through here, maybe." He resumed to Wolfe, "There's not a thing, not a scratch of anything, at her home or office either, that takes you back further than a year ago, the time she came to New York. That's why I say we already knew she wasn't normal."
"Did you find a passport?"
"No. That's another thing-"
"Where is your passport, madame?"
She looked at him. She wet her lips twice. "I am in zees country legally," she declared.
"Then you must have a passport. Where is it?"
For the first time her eyes had a cornered look. "I weel explain… to zee propaire officaire…"
"There's nothing improper about me," Cramer said grimly.
Zorka spread out her hands. "I lost eet."
"I'm afraid the water's getting hot," said Wolfe. "Now about last night. Why did you phone here and say that you saw Miss Tormic putting something in Mr Goodwin's pocket?"
"Because I did see eet."
"Then why hadn't you told the police about it?"
"Because I thought not to make trouble." She edged forward in her chair. "Now look. Zat happen precisely zee way I say. I thought not to make trouble. Zen I sink, murder ees so horrible, I have no right. Zen I phone you and say I weel tell zee police. Zen I sink, Mr Barrett ees friend of Mees Tormic, so to be fair I should tell heem what I do, and I phone heem. Of course, he know how I am refugee, how I escape, how I must not put people in danger-"
"By the way where did you first meet Mr Barrett?"
"I meet heem in Paris."
"Go ahead."
"So he say, good God, zee police kestion me so much, zey must know everysing about me, so dangerous to me and to so many people so why do I not go to veesit Mees Reade, so I pack my bags-"
There was a knock at the door and Fritz entered. He advanced and spoke over a dick's shoulder:
"Mr Panzer, sir."
"Tell him I'm engaged with Madame Zorka and Mr Cramer."
"I did so, sir. He said he would like to see you."
"Send him in."
Cramer bellowed, "So it was Donald Barrett that got you to take a powder-"
"Just a moment," Wolfe begged him. "I think we're getting a reinforcement."
Nobody seeing Saul Panzer for the first time would have regarded him as a valuable reinforc
ement for anything whatever, but they would have been wrong. A lot of people had underrated him, and a lot of people had paid for it. He had left his old brown cap and coat in the hall and, as he stood there absorbing a couple of million details of the little group with one quick glance, everything about him looked insignificant but his big nose.
Wolfe asked him, "Results, Saul?"
"Yes, sir."
"Definite?"
"Yes, sir."
"Indeed. Let us have them."
"I was going to bring her birth certificate along, but I thought that might make trouble, so I took a copy-"
He retreated a step, because Zorka had leaped to her feet, confronted him, and practically shrieked at him, "You didn't! You couldn't-"
A dick reached for her elbow and Cramer bawled, "Sit down!"
"But he-if he-"
"I said sit down!"
She backed up, stumbled on the other dick's foot, recovered her balance, and dropped into her chair. Her shoulders sagged, and she sat that way.
Saul said, "I didn't have to make any expenditure of the kind you contemplated, but I spent three dollars and ninety cents on a phone call. I thought it was justified."
"No doubt. Go ahead."
Saul took his step back. "First I went to Madame Zorka's apartment. There were four city detectives there making a search, and the maid was sitting in a bedroom crying. I had already decided what to do if I found that, so I merely went in-"
He stopped, with a glance at Cramer and the dicks.
"Go on, don't mind them," Wolfe told him. "If it ruins a modus operandi for you, you'll invent an even better one for next time."
"Thank you, sir. I went in for a minute only, establishing a friendly basis, and got the maid to look at me. Then I went to Madame Zorka's place of business on 54th Street. There were more city detectives there, but aside from that it didn't look promising, and I decided to leave it as a last resort. From a certain source I got three leads on friends and associates, and I spent nearly four hours on that line, counting lunch, but got nothing at all.
