Homicide Trinity

by Homicide Trinity (lit)

  the wall. As I sprang to my feet another man was

  through the door and coming. I sidestepped and

  ducked, jerking my right back, and hooked him in the

  kidney. He doubled up and hugged himself, and I kept

  going to the corner, whirled, had the Marley in my

  hand, and showed it.

  "Come right ahead," I said, "if you want your skull

  cracked."

  The first man, the heavy one, was propped against

  the wall, panting. The smaller one was trying to

  straighten up. There was a woman in the doorway, the

  one who had been in the chair, and another one behind

  her.

  "Also," I said, "this thing is loaded, so don't try

  reaching for a cigarette. Inside, everybody, and take it

  easy. I would prefer to get you in the shoulder or leg,

  but I'm not a very good shot."

  The heavy man said, "Who are you?"

  "Billy the Kid. Come on, into the room, and no gym-

  nastics. Go to the far side and face the wall."

  They moved. As they approached the door the

  women backed off, and they entered and I followed.

  The woman with silvery hair started to chatter at me,

  but I wiggled the gun and told her to go to the wall.

  When they were there I went over the men from be-

  hind, felt no weapons, told them to stay put, and side-

  stepped to the bed. There were coats and hats on it, and

  the women's bags. I had the men tagged; the husky one

  was Ambrose Perdis, the shipping magnate, whose pic-

  ture I had seen here and there, and I had heard the

  other one called Khoury; but I needed introductions to

  the women. As I opened one of the bags and dumped its

  contents on the bed Perdis turned around and I spoke.

  "Hold it. I'm giving you a break. Shall I come and slap

  you with the gun? Turn around."

  He turned. A leather case from the bag was stuffed

  with credentials—driver's license, credit cards, others.

  The Homicide Trinity 103

  Some of them said Anne Talbot and others Mrs. Henry

  Lewis Talbot. That was the young woman, whose at-

  tractions, both from the front and the rear, were so

  obvious that they had caught my eye even though my

  eyes were busy. There was a leather keyfold and I

  snapped it open to inspect the keys, and compared one

  of them with the key to the house which I had in my

  pocket. It didn't match. I returned the items to the bag

  one by one and picked up the other bag and dumped it.

  The woman with silvery hair was Mrs. Victor Oliver.

  There was no key in her bag like the one I had, and

  nothing of interest. I examined the pockets of the coats,

  all four of them, and found no key.

  As I stepped around the end of the bed I allowed

  myself a grin at a detail I had observed; they all had

  gloves on—not rubber ones secured for the occasion,

  just gloves. "Now that I know your names," I said, "it's

  only fair that you should know mine. Archie Goodwin. I

  work for a man you may have heard of, Nero Wolfe, the

  private detective. He has been hired by Mrs. Barry

  Hazen, and I have her key to the house and her written

  authority to enter. I need to know which one of you has

  a key and I'm going to find out. You may turn around,

  but stay where you are. You will take off your clothes

  and pile them on the floor, including your shoes and

  socks or stockings, but I think not your underwear. I'll

  see."

  They were facing me at four paces. Anne Talbot said,

  "I won't. It's outrageous." She was extremely easy to

  look at.

  "Pooh," I said. "Pretend you're at the beach or a pool.

  Do you want me to peel you? Don't think I wouldn't."

  "We have no key," Mrs. Oliver said. She was easy to

  look away from, with her flabby jowl and little yellow

  eyes set deep. "The maid let us in. She has gone out, but

  when she comes back you can ask her."

  "She'll deny it," Jules Khoury said. He was the bari-

  tone, a wiry swarthy specimen with no hips.

  "Look," I said, "you're four to one. If you make me do

  it the hard way it will be rough. I'll give you two

  104 Rex Stout

  minutes to get your clothes off." I raised my wrist to see

  my watch without dropping my eyes. "Start with the

  gloves. I want them too."

  "Is this necessary?" Perdis demanded. "Is it so im-

  portant how we got in?"

  "Yes. There were no keys in Hazen's pockets.

  Twenty seconds gone."

  I am enough of a gentleman to turn my back or at

  least avert my eyes when a lady is undressing, but one

  of those ladies might possibly have had a gun on her leg,

  so I forgot my manners. It took the men twice as long as

  the women. I decided to let Anne Talbot keep her bra

  and panties; she would have had no reason to bury the

  key as deep as that. Mrs. Oliver's girdle was so tight she

  couldn't have slipped a key inside even if she had tried.

  Khoury had jockeys, no undershirt. Perdis had a baby

  blue silk altogether, to the knees. I had them turn

  around, and then used a foot to rake Perdis' pile across

  the rug, out of range of a kick.

  It took longer than it should on account of the gun in

  my hand, and of course I not only looked for the key but

  for any other item that might be helpful. No soap.

  Khoury had a keyfold and Perdis a key ring, but no

  soap. It wasn't much of a letdown because I had ex-

  pected it when they all shed and turned their backs. If

  one of them had had Hazen's key he would either have

  tried to ditch it or produced it and tried to explain it.

  Now that I was certain none of them had a cannon or a

  bomb I could relax a little. I told them to dress, went to

  the stand at the head of the bed, lifted the receiver from

  the phone, and was dialing a number when Perdis' voice

  came.

  "Wait a minute! One minute!" He had a touch of

  accent. "I have something to say. You are calling the

  police?"

  "No." I cradled the receiver. "Say it fast and short."

  He was handicapped for man-to-man talk, with his

  shirt on but his pants in his hands. "You are not a

  policeman," he said.

  "No. I told you who I am."

  The Homicide Trinity 105

  "He's Archie Goodwin," Anne Talbot said. "I've seen

  him at the Flamingo."

  "You are a private detective," Perdis said.

  "Right."

  "Then you do things for money. We will pay you fifty

  thousand dollars if you will leave this house and forget

  that you have been here. Half of it in cash tomorrow

  morning and the other half later. We will give you a

  satisfactory guarantee, perhaps something in writing."

  "How much later?"

  "That's hard to say. It is delicate. We would need to

  be sure of your forgetting until certain difficulties have

  ended."

  "That's pretty vague. Get your clothes on and we'll

  see." I picked up the phone and dialed, and he started

  toward me. I showed the gun, bu
t he kept coming,

  saying something, and I dropped the phone and moved

  to meet him, and damned if he didn't swerve around me

  and dart for the phone. I had intended to tap him with

  the gun, not caring for bruised knuckles, but his swerve

  got him on the wrong side, so I took him from behind,

  with my left arm hooked under his chin and my hip at

  his rump, and levered him up and over. He landed on his

  hands and knees nine feet away. I said, "Cut out the

  horseplay and put your pants on," and went to the

  phone and dialed. After nine buzzes Wolfe's voice came.

  "Yes?"

  "Me. Could we use fifty grand?"

  A grunt. "In the box?"

  "No. I haven't got it yet. I'm in Hazen's bedroom.

  There are four people with me, two men and two

  women, lined up against the wall. The four that came to

  dinner last night. They were in this room looking for

  something and hadn't found it. Perdis just off—"

  "One of them has Hazen's key."

  "No. I had them strip and went through their clothes.

  They say the maid let them in. She's not here; of course

  they greased her. Perdis just offered me fifty grand to

  go away and forget I was here. I'll split it with you. He

  would probably double it."

  106 Rex Stout

  "Pfui. Are you intact?"

  "Sure. I'm calling just to tell you to expect us, say in

  half an hour, maybe less."

  Silence. He would have to work, not tomorrow, but

  now—and two women. Then: "I suppose I must," and

  he hung up.

  Perdis had joined the others at the wall. As I cradled

  the phone he spoke. "We will double it. One hundred

  thousand dollars."

  "Skip it." I moved to the foot of the bed. "What would

  I tell my wife if I had one? You heard me tell Nero

  Wolfe to expect us in half an hour, but you have a choice.

  You can leave and go your ways and try to forget you

  were here, and I'll phone Inspector Cramer and report

  this incident, omitting nothing. Or you can come and

  talk it over with Nero Wolfe, and he may or may not

  care to bother Cramer about it. You may have two

  minutes to consider it." I looked at my wrist.

  "Listen, Mr. Goodwin," Anne Talbot said. She had

  her clothes on, and with or without them she was highly

  ornamental. "We were looking for something that be-

  longs to us. We're not thieves. We're respectable—"

  I cut her off. "Sorry, but don't waste it on me. I just

  run errands. It's either Nero Wolfe or the police. If you

  pick Nero Wolfe there will be a slight delay because I

  have a little chore to do in this room. You will take your

  things and go downstairs and on out, and get two taxis.

  You will get into one of the taxis and wait there in front

  of the house, and have the other one there for me. I'll be

  down soon, probably in a couple of minutes. There's one

  complication: if you split and one or two of you prefer to

  go somewhere else, I'll phone the police immediately. I

  would rather not, but I'd have to."

  Two of them, Perdis and Mrs. Oliver, started to

  speak, but I shut them off and moved away from the

  bed. Anne Talbot went to the bed and got her coat, and

  Khoury went and held it for her, and then got his own.

  Anne Talbot said to Perdis and Mrs. Oliver, "Is there

  any alternative?" Perdis went and got Mrs. Oliver's

  The Homicide Trinity 107

  coat and took it to her, and she went to the bed for her

  bag.

  Perdis was the last one out. When he had started

  down the stairs I shut the door, put a chair against it,

  went to the chest of drawers, a big heavy piece at the

  left wall, and took out the bottom drawer. There was a

  folded blanket in it. I squatted at the opening. The

  board that the drawer slid on, solid, not a plywood

  panel, was flush and snugly fitted, no play to it. I tried

  to get its edge with my thumbnails; nothing doing. I got

  out my pocketknife, stuck the point of the blade in the

  crack at the center, just barely in, pried gently, and up

  it came. The front edge of the board was beveled. Very

  neat. I put my hand in, felt metal, got a finger under,

  and here came the box. It was steel, anything but

  flimsy, twelve inches by six and about two inches deep,

  and weighed a good four pounds, with a lock not to be

  opened with a nail file. I shook it and heard no move-

  ment, which didn't prove anything. With the board

  down, I replaced the drawer, moved the chair away

  from the door and opened it, and went to the head of the

  stairs. No sound of voices from below. If I had gone

  down and joined them in the hall carrying a steel box

  which I must have found in Hazen's room they would

  have made quite a party of it. I descended a flight, stood

  to listen half a minute, and went on down. They had

  turned on the light in the lower hall. My hat and coat

  were there on the floor. I put the Marley in the holster,

  put on the hat and coat, slipped the box under the coat,

  with my hand in my pocket holding it, turned out the

  light, and opened the door.

  They had followed instructions to a T. Two taxis

  were there, and they were in the one in the rear, all four

  of them. After glancing in I told the driver to follow my

  taxi, went and got in and gave the driver the address,

  and we rolled.

  Chapter 6

  When you mount the seven steps to the stoop

  and enter the hall of the old brownstone on

  West 35th Street, the first door on your left is

  to what we call the front room, with the office door

  farther along on that side. The walls and doors of the

  front room and office are soundproofed. After convoy-

  ing the company to the front room and telling them they

  wouldn't have to wait long, I returned to the hall, put

  my hat and coat on the rack, proceeded to the office, and

  put the box on Wolfe's desk pad.

  "Good timing," I said. "In another hour or two they

  would probably have found it."

  He reached to pass his fingertips along its edge. "You

  haven't opened it."

  "No. It's a good lock. They're in the front room, all

  four. I gave them their pick, you or the cops, and they

  preferred you. There's nothing to add to what I told you

  on the phone. Before I open it I want to register a guess.

  Not that it's what Hazen had on them, that's a cinch. My

  guess is specifically what he had on Mrs. Oliver. She

  murdered her husband. Wait till you see her."

  He made a face. "This will be distasteful. Bring

  keys."

  I went to the cabinet at the far wall, opened a drawer,

  and made selections. Although I couldn't qualify on the

  witness stand as a lock expert, I know a Hotchkiss from

  a Euler, and I can open your suitcase with a paper clip if

  you'll be patient. Moving the box to my desk, I sat and

  started in. I had selected four types, little boxes of

  assortments. In three minutes I elim
inated the first

  type, and in another three the second one. The third

  The Homicide Trinity 109

  seemed more promising, and I was getting hot when

  Wolfe growled, "Get a hammer and screwdriver."

  As he spoke it clicked and I had it. I raised the lid. The

  box was empty. I upended it for Wolfe to see. "Yeah," I

  said. "It sure is distasteful."

  He took in air, about a bushel, and let it out again.

  "It's just as well. It would probably have presented us

  with a problem. More than one. I presume he decided it

  was a mistake to tell his wife of it and removed the

  contents. Elsewhere in the house?"

  "I doubt it."

  "So do I." He leaned back, closed his eyes, and pushed

  his lips out. In a moment he pulled them in, and then out

  and in, out and in. He was working. A minute passed,

  two minutes, three. ... He opened his eyes and

  straightened up. "Lock the box and leave it on your

  desk. Put the keys away. Have a gun in your hand when

  you admit them, and go to your desk and stay there.

  Proceed."

  I proceeded. After locking the box and returning the

  keys to the cabinet, I moved four of the yellow chairs

  up, in a row facing Wolfe's desk, got the gun out, opened

  the door to the front room, and invited them to enter.

  The gentlemen followed the ladies. I went to my desk

  and pronounced names, and when they were seated I

  sat, with the gun in my hand resting on my thigh.

  Wolfe's eyes went right and then left. "This shouldn't

  take long," he said. "First the situation. I shall not

  resort to euphemism. You were being blackmailed by