hold her, and she said you'd have to carry her. When I
left she pushed the bolt."
"All right," Cramer said, "if that's the way she wants
it." He turned to speak to Rowcliff, but I didn't stay to
listen, because I had an urgent errand. Callahan, the
dick who had brought me from the kitchen, wasn't in
174 Rex Stout
sight, and if I went downstairs unescorted I probably
wouldn't be stopped. I backed off, made the landing,
descended, asked the dick in the lower hall if it was still
snowing as I got my hat and coat, took my time putting
my coat on, opened the front door, and was gone.
The snow was coming down thicker and was an inch
deep on the sidewalk. Outside were two harness bulls,
four police cars double-parked, and a small group of
unofficial criminologists. I headed east, found a phone
booth in a bar and grill around the corner on Eighth
Avenue, and dialed. It was after four and Wolfe would
be up in the plant rooms for his afternoon session with
the orchids, which is from four to six, so it was Fritz
who answered, and I told him to switch it.
"Yes?" Wolfe is always gruff on the phone, but when
it interrupts him up there he is even gruffer.
"Me again. From a booth on Eighth Avenue. I left the
scene informally because I have something to report.
We won't be contradicted about the money. Miss Annis,
whom I now call Hattie, has buttoned her lip and will
keep it buttoned. She is in her room with the door
bolted and Cramer and Rowcliff are going to batter
their way in. Stebbins isn't around. I was re—"
"He was here."
"Who? Stebbins?"
"Yes. I spoke with him at the door. He wanted the
package of money. I told him it was not mine to surren-
der, since it had been left in your safekeeping. He said
nothing about its being bogus. I didn't admit him. He
was not pleased."
"I'll bet. I was requested by Cramer to persuade
Hattie to let them in, and I tried—not through the door,
she let me in. When I told her that if they had to bust the
door to get to her they would take her downtown and
hold her, she said she wanted to hire you to make them
eat dirt. I said the only job you might take would be to
investigate the murder, and dirt-eating, if any, would
be a by-product, and your fee would be high. She said
she could pay you twenty-one thousand dollars, one-
tenth of the tax-exempt bonds she has in a bank vault. I
The Homicide Trinity 175
said we would leave it that you are hired, and if you
refuse to take it on because you're eccentric I'll notify
her. The trouble is, how can I notify her if she's not
accessible? Shall I ask Cramer to tell her you're too
busy?"
"Yes."
"Naturally," I said sympathetically. "You would
rather starve than work if only you had no appetite.
The fact is, she wanted to hire me and I told her to get
me she had to hire you. I'll hold the wire while you count
ten."
"Confound you." It was a growl from the depths.
"She may have no bonds. She is probably indigent."
"Not a chance. She's my favorite screwball, but she's
not a liar. I'm under her spell and I'm in her debt. She
made Cramer ask me a favor."
Silence. Then, more growl. "Come home and report.
We'll see."
Chapter 5
One of the rules in that house is no business talk at
meals, ever, and another is no business in the
plant rooms except in emergencies. That winter
day the emergency was not that some sudden develop-
ment demanded immediate action or that an important
case had reached a crisis; it was that Wolfe had to
decide, to work or not to work, and he could get no
pleasure fiddling with orchids with that hanging over
him. He took my report not in one of the three plant
rooms, with their dazzle of color, but in the potting
room, perched on his made-to-order stool, at the bench.
Theodore was washing pots at the sink, and I used his
stool.
Wolfe keeps his eyes closed when I am reporting and
176 Rex Stout
rarely interrupts with questions. When I finished he
took in air clear down to his middle, let it out, opened his
eyes, and grunted. "Any comments or suggestions?"
"Yes, sir, plenty. First, Hattie Annis is out. She
couldn't possibly have been faking it when we went in
and found the body. I wouldn't try to predict what she's
going to do, but I know what she didn't do. She didn't
kill Tammy Baxter. Second, their not asking if I knew
the money is counterfeit is an insult to my intelligence
and yours too. Leach had told Canner not to mention it
because what he wants is to find the source. He'd rather
catch a counterfeiter than a murderer any day, and if
counterfeiting was mentioned to me I might mention it
to a reporter. Evidently he thinks we can't add two and
two. A T-man coming to ask me about a woman who had
left a package of bills with me, and the idea that they
might be counterfeit wouldn't occur to me?"
"He didn't know she had been here and left a pack-
age."
"He did when I was being questioned. He heard me
tell Cramer. Cramer must have been biting nails. He'd
love to get us for being in possession of a stack of the
queer. Ten to one Leach didn't know he sent Stebbins
here to get it. Third, Tammy Baxter was a T-woman."
Wolfe made a face. "That mean something?"
"It does now. If there are T-men there can be a
T-woman, though I've never heard of one. This morning
Leach asked if she was here, and when I told him she
had been and gone he asked if she had been back or
phoned and then switched to Hattie Annis. Why didn't
he ask what Tammy Baxter had said? Because he knew;
she had reported to him. Also he knew the phone num-
ber of that house. Also Cramer. Why wasn't he more
interested in my talk with Tammy Baxter only an hour
or so before she was murdered? Because he already
knew about it from Leach."
"Then she had been posted in that house by the
Secret Service?"
"Sure. A good guess is that they knew someone who
lived there had passed bad money. I doubt if they knew
The Homicide Trinity 177
which one, because if so they know who killed Tammy
Baxter, and I don't think they would dare not to tell
Cramer—but it's possible. Their big play isn't for the
passers, it's for the plant. Four, one of the four roomers
is it, on account of the knife. It came from that kitchen.
Raymond Dell, Noel Ferris, Paul Hannah, Martha
Kirk. If one or more of them have been crossed off by
alibis that would narrow it. Five, if Hattie Annis is your
client you probably want to speak to Parker, since you
are against leaving a client in the coop. I'll ring him."
"I haven't told you to."
&nb
sp; "Do you tell me not to?"
He tightened his lips. He took a deep breath. "Con-
found you. Call him."
"Right. But first one more. Six, I see no reason why I
shouldn't try the package for prints, since it hasn't
occurred to us that the bills may be phony. I'm assum-
ing that you don't intend to let loose of your client's
property unless a court orders you to."
"Certainly not. But there will be other prints than
yours. Hers."
"I've got hers."
"You have."
"Yes, sir. In case."
"So." He got off the stool. "So you make the decisions.
Let me know if you wish to confer. Go."
I went. It isn't easy to pass down the aisles of those
three rooms without stopping, even in an emergency,
but that time I stopped only once, where a group of
Miltonia roezlis were sporting more than fifty racemes
on four feet of bench. It was the best crop of Miltonias
Wolfe (and Theodore) had ever had. The display is
always harder to believe when snow is dancing on the
sloping glass overhead.
Since it was after office hours I dialed the home
number of Nathaniel Parker, the lawyer, got him, put
him through to Wolfe, and listened in, as I am supposed
to when not told to get off. He was a little doubtful
about springing our client before morning, since they
had had to smash a door to get to her and she wasn't
178 Rex Stout
talking, but he said he would get on it immediately and
do his best. That done, I went to the safe and got the
wrapping paper and bills.
It was a two-hour job, and I took an hour out for
dinner, so it was after nine o'clock when I finished. It
took so long because (a) wrapping paper is a mean
surface to lift prints from, (b) I had to check and double-
check every print with Hattie's and mine, and (c) I had
to be darned careful to leave the evidence intact if there
was any there. During the last hour, after dinner, Wolfe
was there at his desk in the only chair he really likes,
reading his current book. Now and then he shot me a
glance, of course hoping that I would announce that we
had him, and his job would be simple. But at a quarter
past nine I swiveled and spoke. "No. Positively. Seven
good prints, twelve fair ones, and fourteen smudges.
The only ones that can be identified are Hattie's and
mine. Either he never handled it without gloves or he
wiped it."
I'll say this for him, he never asks silly questions like
Are you sure, or Have you tried the bills too. He merely
growled, "It was too much to expect." He picked up his
bookmark, a thin strip of gold that had been given him
by a client in spite of the size of his bill, inserted it, and
put the book down. "What do you suggest?"
Ignoring the sarcasm, I took the bills and wrapping
paper, still handling them with care, and went to the
safe and put them in. "Now," I said, returning, "it will
take a brain, and you know where one is. I only run
errands. I know you never leave the house on business,
but if you—"
The doorbell rang. I offered myself three to one that
it was Cramer, probably with Leach for company,
stepped to the hall, and flipped the switch for the stoop
light. It had been a bad bet. I stepped back in and told
Wolfe, "All four of them. Dell, Ferris, Hannah, and
Martha Kirk."
He glared at me. "You invited them?"
"No, sir. It's a surprise party. People have no consid-
eration. They might at least have phoned."
The Homicide Trinity 179
"It's impossible! I'm not ready. I haven't prepared
my mind." He ran his fingers through his hair. "It's
impossible. Bring them in."
I went to the front and opened the door, and invited
them to enter. Martha Kirk, first in, did not curtsy, and
Raymond Dell didn't bow. When I turned after shut-
ting the door she was sitting on the bench pulling off her
galoshes and the men were removing their coats.
"Have you written your piece?" Dell demanded.
That had been so long ago, eight whole hours, that for
a second I didn't get him. "Oh," I said. "I had forgotten
I was doing one. I got interrupted."
"We want to see Nero Wolfe," Martha Kirk said.
"And you."
"Then you might as well have us together. This way."
I went to the office door and stood aside, and they filed
in. Wolfe arose, inclined his head an eighth of an inch as
I pronounced each name, and sat. He never shakes
hands with strangers. I was going to put Martha Kirk in
the red leather chair, but Dell beat us to it, so I moved
up a yellow one for her, next to me, and Ferris and
Hannah moved their own, beyond her. Wolfe's eyes
went from left to right and back again.
"Go ahead, Martha," Paul Hannah said. "This was
your idea."
"No," Martha said, "it was Hattie's idea." She was
still ornamental, and the dimples were still there, but
she didn't look up to making an omelet of larks' eggs.
She turned her face to me and then to Wolfe. "It's
crazy," she said. "The idea that Hattie— It's just crazy."
"She doesn't mean," Noel Ferris explained, "that
Hattie's idea is crazy, she means the idea that Hattie
killed Tammy Baxter. Hattie's idea was that we should
come and see you."
"According to Martha," Paul Hannah said.
"Idiot children," Raymond Dell rumbled. His hat had
pressed his white mane down, but it was starting to
unfurl. "Snapping and yapping in the face of tragedy."
"Death isn't tragedy," Ferris said. "Life is tragedy."
"Was it Miss Annis's idea," Wolfe inquired, "that you
180 Rex Stout
should come and expound philosophy to me? Miss Kirk.
I gather that she spoke with you?"
Martha nodded. "She spoke to me. She said she had
hired you and Mr. Goodwin to make the cops eat dirt,
and we must come and tell you everything we had told
the cops."
"When did she hire you?" Hannah demanded. His
chubby pink cheeks were a little saggy.
Wolfe ignored him and kept his eyes at Martha.
"What else did she say?"
"Nothing. She couldn't. I was coming downstairs,
and they were carrying her out, and she saw me and
said that, and I said we would. Of course I couldn't tell
the others then, they were still questioning us, but I did
as soon as they left."
"They were carrying her literally? Bodily?"
"Yes. Two men."
"Had they forced the door of her room?"
"Yes."
Wolfe grunted. "Possibly actionable. For the record,
Miss Annis is my client, but my job is not as she defined
it. I have engaged to investigate the murder that was
committed in her house."
"It wasn't committed by her," Martha declared. "But
they've arrested her. It's crazy!"
"It was committed by a sex maniac," Paul Hannah
> said. "Twice last week a man followed her right to the
door. When she told me about it I offered to ambush
him, but she said no, if he did it again and came close she
would handle him. She would, too."
Noel Ferris twisted his lip. "Lochinvar Hannah," he
drawled. "These sex maniacs are damn clever. Of
course getting in wasn't much, he could have a bag of
assorted keys, but getting the knife from the kitchen
was a real stroke. We know he did because you identi-
fied it."
"You keep harping on that." Hannah's cheeks were
pinker. "Certainly I identified it, with that nick in it. I
supposed you all would. I knew Hattie would."
"I did." Martha said.
The Homicide Trinity 181
Ferris turned a hand over. "Then I should have too. I
was too sentimental, I always am. I had a vague notion
that it would be better to leave it plausible that the
knife was a stranger. Also I am too sensitive. I couldn't
bear the thought that the knife I had sliced ham with
had been . . ." He finished it with a gesture, an actor's
gesture.
Raymond Dell snorted. "Adolescent imbeciles! All
three of you! We came here to serve a friend in whose
debt we are, not to prattle. Tammy Baxter was new in
that house, not yet of us. For all we know, Hattie may
have had reason to fear her beyond endurance. In a
frenzy of fear, in the panic of desperation, she killed her.
Homicide Trinity Page 23
