Homicide Trinity

by Homicide Trinity (lit)

  Chapter 8

  I felt then, and I still feel, that it was a waste of

  money to have Saul and Fred and Orrie there; and

  since we had no client it was Wolfe's money. When

  Saul phoned in at five o'clock I could just as well have

  told him to call it a day. I do not claim that I can handle

  five people all having a fit at once, even if one of them is

  seventy-five years old and another one is a woman, but

  there was no reason to suppose that more than one of

  them would really explode, and I could certainly handle

  him. But when Saul phoned I followed instructions, and

  there went sixty bucks.

  They weren't visible when, at eight minutes after six,

  the bell rang and I went and opened the door to admit

  Rita Sorell, nor when I escorted her to the office, intro-

  duced her to Wolfe, and draped her fur coat, probably

  milky mink, over the back of the red leather chair. No

  one was visible but Wolfe. The fact that she gave Wolfe

  a smile and fluttered her long dark lashes at him didn't

  mean that she was a snob; I had got mine in the hall.

  "I'm not in the habit," she told him, "of going to see

  men when they send for me. This is a new experience.

  Maybe that's why I came; I like new experiences. Mr.

  Goodwin said you wanted to discuss something?"

  62 Rex Stout

  Wolfe nodded. "I do. Something private and per-

  sonal. And since the discussion will be more productive

  if it is frank and unreserved, we should be alone. If you

  please, Archie? No notes will be needed."

  I objected. "Mrs. Sorell might want to ask me—"

  "No. Leave us, please."

  I went. After shutting the door as I entered the hall,

  I turned right, went and opened the door to the front

  room, entered, shut that door too, and glanced around.

  All was in order. Lament Otis was in the big chair by

  a window, the one Ann Paige had left by, and she was on

  one side of him and Edey on the other. Jett's chair was

  tilted back against the wall to the right. On the couch

  facing me was Heydecker, in between Fred Durkin and

  Orrie Gather. Saul Panzer stood in the center of the

  room. Their faces all came to me and Edey started to

  speak.

  I cut him off. "If you talk," I said, "you won't hear,

  and even if you don't want to hear, others do. You can

  talk later. As Mr. Wolfe told you, a speaker behind the

  couch is wired to a mike in his office, and he is there

  talking with someone. Since you'll recognize her voice I

  don't need to name her. Okay, Saul."

  Saul, who had moved to the rear of the couch, flipped

  the switch and Wolfe's voice sounded.

  ". . . and she described her problem to Mr. Goodwin

  before he came up to me. She said that on Monday

  evening of last week she saw a member of the firm in a

  booth in a lunchroom in secret conference with you;

  that she had concluded that he was betraying the inter-

  est of one of the firm's clients to you, the client being

  your husband; that for reasons she thought cogent she

  would not tell another member or members of the firm;

  that she had finally, yesterday afternoon, told the one

  she was accusing and asked for an explanation, and got

  none; that she refused to name him until she had spoken

  with me; and that she had come to engage my services.

  Mr. Goodwin has of course reported this to the police."

  MRS. SORELL: "She didn't name him?"

  WOLFE: "No. As I said, Mrs. Sorell, this discussion

  The Homicide Trinity 63

  should be frank and unreserved. I am not going to

  pretend that you have named him and are committed.

  You told Mr. Goodwin on the phone today that you

  were with a man in a booth in a lunchroom last Monday

  evening, and you said his name is Gregory Jett; but you

  could have been merely scattering dust, and at will you

  can deny you made the call."

  Jett had caused a slight commotion by jerking for-

  ward in his tilted chair, but not enough to drown the

  voice, and a touch on his arm by me had stopped him.

  MRS. SORELL: "What if I don't deny it? What if I repeat

  it, it was Gregory Jett?"

  WOLFE: "I wouldn't advise you to. If in addition to

  scattering dust you were gratifying an animus you'll

  have to try again. It wasn't Mr. Jett. It was Mr. Hey-

  decker."

  Heydecker couldn't have caused any commotion

  even if he wanted to, with Fred at one side of him and

  Orrie at the other. The only commotion came from

  Lamont Otis, who moved and made a choking noise, and

  Ann Paige grabbed his hand.

  MRS. SORELL: "That's interesting. Mr. Goodwin said I

  would find it interesting and I do. So I sat in a booth

  with a man and didn't know who he was? Really, Mr.

  Wolfe!"

  WOLFE: "No, madam. I assure you it won't do. I'll

  expound it. I assumed that one of three men—Edey,

  Heydecker, or Jett—had killed Bertha Aaron. In view

  of what she told Mr. Goodwin it was more than an

  assumption, it was a conclusion. But three hours ago I

  had to abandon it, when I learned that those three were

  in conference together in Mr. Edey's office at 5:45. It

  was 5:39 when Mr. Goodwin left Miss Aaron to come up

  to me. That they were lying, that they were in a joint

  conspiracy, was most unlikely, especially since others

  on the premises could probably impeach them. But

  though none of them could have killed her, one of them

  could have provoked her doom, wittingly or not. Of the

  three, only Mr. Heydecker was known to have left

  around the same time as Miss Aaron—he had said on a

  64 Rex Stout

  personal errand, but his movements could not be

  checked. My new assumption, not yet a conclusion, was

  that he had followed her to this address and seen her

  enter my house, had sought a phone and called you to

  warn you that your joint intrigue might soon be ex-

  Eosed, and then, no doubt in desperation, had scurried

  ack to his office, fifteen minutes late at the confer-

  ence."

  It was Edey's turn to make a commotion and he

  obliged. He left his chair, moved to the couch, and stood

  staring down at Heydecker. Saul and I were there, but

  apparently he had no brilliant idea beyond the stare.

  WOLFE: "Now, however, that assumption is a conclu-

  sion, and I don't expect to abandon it. Mr. Heydecker

  does not believe, and neither do I, that upon receiving

  his phone call you came here determined to murder.

  Indeed, you couldn't have, since you could have no

  expectation of finding her alone. Mr. Heydecker be-

  lieves that you merely intended to salvage what you

  could—at best to prevent the disclosure, at worst to

  leam where you stood. You called this number and she

  answered and agreed to admit you and hear you. Mr.

  Heydecker believes that when you entered and found

  that she was alone and that she had not seen me, it was

  o
n sudden impulse that you seized the paperweight and

  struck her. He believes that when you saw her sink to

  the floor, unconscious, and saw the necktie on this desk,

  the impulse carried you on. He believes that you—"

  MRS. SORELL: "How do you know what he believes?"

  That would have been my cue if I were needed. I had

  been instructed to use my judgment. If Heydecker's

  reaction made it doubtful I was to get to the office with

  a signal before Wolfe had gone too far to hedge. It was

  no strain at all on my judgment. Heydecker was

  hunched forward, his elbows on his knees and his face

  covered by his hands.

  WOLFE: "A good question. I am not in his skull. I

  should have said, he says he believes. You might have

  known, madam, that he couldn't possibly stand the

  pressure. Disclosure of his treachery to his firm will

  The Homicide Trinity 65

  end his professional career, but concealment of guilty

  knowledge of a murder might have ended his life. You

  might have known—"

  MRS. SORELL: "If he says he believes I killed that

  woman he's lying. He killed her. He's a rat and a liar. He

  phoned me twice yesterday, first to tell me that we had

  been seen in the lunchroom, to warn me, and again

  about an hour later to say that he had dealt with it, that

  our plan was safe. So he had killed her. When Goodwin

  told me there had been developments I knew what it

  was, I knew he would lose his nerve, I knew he would

  lie. He's a rat. That's why I came. I admit I concealed

  guilty knowledge of a murder, and I know that was

  wrong, but it's not too late. Is it too late?"

  WOLFE: "No. A purge can both clean your conscience

  and save your skin. What time did he phone you the

  second time?"

  MRS. SORELL: "I don't know exactly. It was between

  five and six. Around half past five."

  WOLFE: "What was the plan he had made safe?"

  MRS. SORELL: "Of course he has lied about that too. It

  was his plan. He came to me about a month ago and said

  he could give me information about my husband that I

  could use to make—that I could use to get my rights.

  He wanted—"

  Heydecker jerked his head up and yapped, "That's a

  lie! I didn't go to her, she came to me!" That added to my

  knowledge of human nature. He hadn't uttered a peep

  when she accused him of murder. Edey, who was still

  there staring down at him, said something I didn't catch.

  Mrs. Sorell was going on: "He wanted me to agree to

  pay him a million dollars for it, but I couldn't because I

  didn't know how much I would get, and I finally said I

  would pay him one-tenth of what I got. That was that

  evening at the lunchroom."

  WOLFE: "Has he given you the information?"

  MRS. SORELL: "No. He wanted too much in advance. Of

  course that was the difficulty. We couldn't put it in

  writing and sign it."

  WOLFE: "No indeed. A signed document is of little

  66 Rex Stout

  value when neither party would dare to produce it. I

  presume you realize, Mrs. Sorell, that your purge will

  have to include your appearance on the stand at a

  murder trial. Are you prepared to testify under oath?"

  MRS. SORELL: "I suppose I'll have to. I knew I would

  have to when I decided to come to see you."

  Wolfe (in a new tone, the snap of a whip): "Then

  you're a dunce, madam."

  Again that would have been my cue if I were needed.

  The whole point of the set-up, having the four members

  of the firm in the front room listening in, was to get

  Heydecker committed before witnesses. If his nerve

  had held it would have been risky for Wolfe to crack the

  whip. But he was done for. He hadn't written out a

  confession and signed it, but he might as well have.

  MRS. SORELL: "Oh, no, Mr. Wolfe. I'm not a dunce."

  WOLFE: "But you are. One detail alone would sink you.

  After you rang this number yesterday afternoon, and

  Miss Aaron answered, and you spoke with her, you got

  here as quickly as possible. Since you were not then

  contemplating murder, there was no reason for you to

  use caution. I don't know if you have a car and chauf-

  feur, but even if you have, to send for it would have

  meant delay, and minutes were precious. There is no

  crosstown subway. Buses, one downtown and one

  crosstown, would have been far too slow. Unquestion-

  ably you took a cab. In spite of the traffic that would

  have been much faster than walking. The doorman at

  the Churchill probably summoned one for you, but even

  if he didn't, it will be a simple matter to find it. I need

  only telephone Mr. Cramer, the police inspector who

  was here this afternoon, and suggest that he locate the

  cab driver who picked you up at or near the Churchill

  yesterday afternoon and drove you to this address. In

  fact, that is what I intend to do, and that will be enough."

  Ann Paige stood up. She was in a fix. She wanted to

  go to Gregory Jett, where her eyes already were, but

  she didn't want to leave Lamont Otis, who was slumped

  in his chair, his head sagging and his eyes shut. Luckily

  Jett saw her difficulty and went to her and put an arm

  The Homicide Trinity 67

  around her. It scored a point for romance that he could

  have a thought for personal matters at the very mo-

  ment his firm was getting a clout on the jaw.

  WOLFE: "I shall also suggest that he send a man here

  to take you in hand until the cab driver is found. If you

  ask why I don't proceed to do this, why I first announce

  it to you, I confess a weakness. I am savoring a satis-

  faction. I am getting even with you. Twenty-five hours

  ago, in this room, you subjected me to the severest

  humiliation I have suffered for many years. I will not

  say it gives me pleasure, but I confess it—"

  There was a combination of sounds from the speaker:

  a kind of cry or squeal, presumably from Mrs. Sorell, a

  sort of scrape or flutter, and what might have been a

  grunt from Wolfe. I dived for the connecting door and

  went with it as I swung it open, and kept going, but two

  paces short ofWolfe's desk I halted to take in a sight I

  had never seen before and never expect to see again:

  Nero Wolfe with his arms tight around a beautiful

  young woman in his lap, pinning her arms, hugging her

  close to him. I stood paralyzed.

  "Archie!" he roared. "Confound it, get her!"

  I obeyed.

  Chapter 9

  I would like to be able to report that Wolfe got

  somewhere with his effort to minimize the damage

  to the firm, but I have to be candid and accurate.

  He tried but there wasn't much he could do, since

  Heydecker was the chief witness for the prosecution at

  the trial and was cross-examined for six hours. Of

  course that finished him professionally. Wolfe had bet-

  ter luck with another effort; the DA finally conceded

  that I w
as competent to identify Exhibit C, a brown silk

  necktie with little yellow curlicues, and Wolfe wasn't

  68 Rex Stout

  called. Evidently the jury agreed with him, since it only

  took them five hours to bring in a verdict of guilty.

  At that, the firm is still doing business at the old

  stand, and Lament Otis still comes to the office five

  days a week, and I hear that since Gregory Jett's mar-

  riage to Ann Paige he has quit being careless about the

  balance between income and outgo. I don't know if his

  eleven-percent cut has been boosted. That's a confiden-

  tial matter.

  DEATH OF A

  DEMON

  Chapter 1

  The red leather chair was four feet away from the

  end of Nero Wolfe's desk, so when she got the

  gun from her handbag she had to get up and

  take a step to put it on the desk. Then she returned to

  the chair, closed the bag, and told Wolfe, "That's the

  gun I'm not going to shoot my husband with."

  Sitting facing her with my back to my desk, which

  was at right angles to Wolfe's, I raised my brows. I

  hadn't expected her to put on an act. When she had

  phoned the previous afternoon to ask for an appoint-

  ment she had of course sounded a little jumpy, as most

  people do when they call the office of a private detec-

  tive, but she had been quite matter-of-fact in giving the

  details. Her name was Lucy Hazen, Mrs. Barry Hazen.

  She gave her address, on East 37th Street between

  Park and Lexington. All she wanted was thirty minutes

  with Nero Wolfe, to tell him something confidential.