That is quite possible. We know that Hattie was not
herself. We thought her incapable of guile, but she
brought this man Goodwin, a professional detective—
she brought him there and presented him to Martha
and me in false colors."
Ferris's brows were up. "But you came here to serve
her?"
"I did." Dell's boom would have carried to the gallery
if there had been one. "Whether she killed or not,
whether she was wise to trust her fate to this man
Wolfe and this man Goodwin—we are not to judge. We
can only ask, what can we do or say to help her?" His
deep-set blue-gray eyes focused on Wolfe. "And we can
only ask you."
Martha Kirk put in, "Hattie said we should tell him
everything we told the cops."
Wolfe shook his head. "That may not be necessary. I
hope not." He cleared his throat. "It has already been of
some slight help to sit and listen to you; that is inherent
in the situation. When four people are conversing in my
presence and I know that one of them committed mur-
der less than twelve hours ago, I would be a dolt to get
no inkling at all. Look at you now—your reaction to
what I just said. You are all staring at me. One of you
opened his mouth to interrupt, but closed it. None of
you glances at the others, or at any other. But I know
that one of you is feeling the pinch. He is asking himself,
182 Rex Stout
are my eyes all right, how about my mouth, should I say
something? He is aware, of course, that it will take
more than an inkling to undo him, but an inkling can
give me a start."
It wasn't giving me one. They all kept their stares at
him. Martha's lips were parted, and Ferris's were
twisted. Paul Hannah's jaw was working. Dell's chin
was up and he was frowning. Ferris demanded, "You
know it was one of us? How?"
"Not by an inkling, Mr. Ferris. There is the knife, and
there is my conviction, on grounds that satisfy me, that
Miss Annis didn't use it, but that isn't all. I prefer not to
disclose why she took Mr. Goodwin to her house in
masquerade; though one of you has certainly guessed
why I'll leave it a guess." He flattened his palms on the
chair arms. "And now we may proceed. Three of you
came here to help a friend, and one of you came because
he didn't dare to refuse; nor will he dare to refuse to
answer my questions; and I expect him to expose him-
self. If he has already exposed himself to the police we
are wasting our time, but I'll proceed on the assumption
that he hasn't. If I fail, it will be because I haven't asked
the right questions, and I don't intend to fail."
His head turned. "Mr. Dell. Have you paid your room
rent for the past three months?"
Chapter 6
Raymond Dell's chin lifted another quarter of an
inch. "We could all refuse," he said.
Wolfe nodded. "You could indeed. If you
think that would serve your friend in whose debt you
are. Shall I try the others?"
"No. As for that question, if Hattie is your client you
could ask her. Perhaps you already have. I have paid no
room rent for three years and she has asked for none."
Wolfe's head moved. "Miss Kirk?"
She was still staring at him. "The cops didn't ask me
that," she said.
Wolfe grunted. "They have their technique and I
have mine. That question applies to the problem as I
see it. Does it embarrass you?"
"No. I have lived there nearly a year and I have paid
five dollars every week."
"From current income?"
"I haven't any current income. I get a check from my
father every month."
"I trust it doesn't embarrass him. Mr. Ferris?"
Noel Ferris passed his tongue over his lips. "How
this applies is beyond me," he said, "but I don't dare to
refuse to answer. I haven't figured how I stand on rent,
but you can. I've had a room there for eighteen months.
Last summer I was on television for thirteen weeks and
I gave Hattie a hundred and fifty dollars. A show I was
in flopped in November, and since then it has been
television crumbs. Two weeks ago I gave her sixty
dollars. You figure it."
"You're a hundred and eighty dollars short. Mr.
Hannah?"
Paul Hannah was looking determined. "I'm not tak-
184 Rex Stout
ing any dare," he blurted. "You may think your ques-
tion applies, but I don't. You say you know one of us
killed Tammy Baxter, but I don't believe it. I know
damn well I didn't. You don't kill someone without a
reason, and what was it? She had only been there three
weeks and we barely knew her. The knife doesn't prove
anything. Whoever killed her got in the house some-
how, and if he was in the house he could have got the
knife. I'm not taking any dare."
Wolfe shook his head. "Your spunk is impressive, Mr.
Hannah, but it bounces off. If you are innocent the
question whether you'll take a dare doesn't arise; the
question is, what are you here for? To oblige a friend or
parade your conceit?"
"I'm here because of what Hattie said to Martha and
I wanted to hear what you had to say. And you asked if
I've paid my room rent, for God's sake. All right, I have.
I've been there four months and I've paid every week.
That proves something?"
"Obviously. That you are not a pauper. You have an
income?"
"No. I have money that I saved."
"So. That point is covered." Wolfe's eyes went to
Martha. "Now, Miss Kirk, for what you have told the
police—at least one detail. Your movements this mom-
ing, say from ten-thirty until one o'clock. Where were
you?"
"I was in my room," she said, "until about a quarter
after twelve. The police wanted to know exactly, but I
couldn't tell them. I got in late last night, and I always
do exercises for an hour when I get up. About a quarter
after twelve I went down to the kitchen. There were no
oranges and I went out and got some. I wasn't gone
more than ten minutes. I was cooking bacon and eggs
when Mr. Dell came in, and Hattie with Mr. Goodwin,
and Hattie said he was going to do a piece for a maga-
zine, and they went—"
"That's far enough. Which room is yours?"
"The third floor front, above Hattie's."
"And the others? Their rooms?"
The Homicide Trinity 185
"Ray's is the second floor rear—Raymond Dell's. The
rear room on my floor, the third, is Tammy Baxter's.
The one above mine, on the fourth floor, is Noel Fer-
ris's, and the rear one on that floor is Paul Hannah's."
"Did you see any of them this morning?"
"No. Not until Ray came to the kitchen, and that was
afternoon."
"Did you hear any of them moving or speaking?"
"No."
"Not even Mr. Ferris in the room above you?"
"No. I suppose he was up and gone before I woke up."
"Did you hear or see anything at all that might be of
significance?"
She shook her head. "The police thought I must have,
when I was in the kitchen, but I didn't."
Wolfe's head went left, to Raymond Dell in the red
leather chair. "Mr. Dell. I know you came downstairs
when Miss Annis entered the house with Mr. Goodwin
shortly after one o'clock. Before that?"
"Nothing," Dell rumbled.
"Nothing?"
"Nothing. That was when I left my room for the first
time. Until then I had seen no one, heard nothing, and
seen nothing. I had been asleep."
"Then how did you know there were no oranges?"
Dell's chin jerked up. "What's that? Oh." He ges-
tured. "That man Goodwin. I knew because there had
been none when I went down for some in the early
hours—the late hours. I don't sleep at night; I read. I
was reading Sophocles' Oedipus Rex, and when I fin-
ished it, at five o'clock perhaps, or six, I wanted or-
anges. I always do around that hour. Finding none, I
returned to my room and finally dozed."
"So that was customary? You rarely stir before
twelve?"
"I never do."
"And at night you read. How do you spend your
afternoons?"
Dell frowned. "Could that conceivably apply?"
"Yes. Conceivably."
186 Rex Stout
"I want to be present when you apply it. That would
be a revelation worthy of the Cumaean sybil. I baby-
sit "
"You what?"
"The current abhorrent term is 'baby-sit.' I have a
friend who is a painter, by name Max Eder, who lives in
an East Side tenement. His wife is dead. He has a son
and daughter aged three and four, and five days a week
I am their keeper for five hours, fi-om two till seven. For
a stipend. Mondays and Tuesdays I am free to roam the
market if I am so inclined. You frown. To offer my
talents in television dens. I am so inclined only by
necessity."
"What is Mr. Elder's address?"
Dell shrugged, an actor's shrug. "This approaches
lunacy. However, it's in the phone book. Three-
fourteen Mission Street."
"How long have you been—uh—performing this ser-
vice for him?"
"Something over a year."
Wolfe left him. "Mr. Hannah. Since I am now merely
asking for what you have already told the police, your
whereabouts today from ten-thirty to one, I hope you
won't be provoked."
"You do like hell," Hannah blurted. "Parading my
conceit, huh? I'm sticking only because I told Martha I
would. I left the house a little after nine o'clock and
spent a couple of hours around the West Side docks, and
then I took a bus downtown and got to the Mushroom
Theater a little before twelve. We start rehearsal at
noon. Around two o'clock a man came and flashed a
badge and said I was wanted for questioning and took
me to Forty-seventh Street."
"What were you doing around the docks?"
"I was looking and listening. In the play we're doing,
Do As Thou Wilt, I'm a longshoreman, and I want to get
it right."
"Where is the Mushroom Theater?"
"Bowie Street. Near Houston Street."
"Do you have a leading role in the play?"
The Homicide Trinity 187
"No. Not leading."
"How many lines have you?"
"Not many. It's not a big part. I'm young and I'm
learning."
"How long have you been rehearsing?"
"About a month."
"Have you appeared at that theater before?"
"Once, last fall. I had a walk-on in The Pleasure Is
Mine."
"How long did it run?"
"Six weeks. Pretty good for off-Broadway."
"Do you favor any particular spot when you visit the
docks?"
"No. I just move around and look and listen."
"Do you do that every day?"
"Hell, no."
"How many times in the past month?"
"Only once before today. A couple of times when I got
the part, in November."
I was thinking that at least he had one of the basic
qualifications for an actor. He was ready and willing to
answer any and all questions about his career, with or
without a dare, whether they applied or not. If Wolfe
thought it would help to have the plot of Do As Thou
Wilt described in detail all he had to do was ask.
But apparently he didn't need it. His head moved.
"And you, Mr. Fen-is?"
"I'm feeling a lot better," Noel Ferris said. "When
the questions they asked made me realize that I was
actually suspected of murder, and I also realized that I
had no alibi, it looked pretty dark. Believe me. What if
the others had all been somewhere else and could prove
it? So I thank you, Mr. Wolfe. I feel a lot better. As for
me, I left the house a little after ten and called at four
agencies. Two of them would remember I was there,
but probably not the exact time. When I got hungry I
went back to the house to eat. I can't afford five-dollar
lunches, and I can't eat eighty-cent ones. When I entered
the house a man was at the phone telling someone that
188 Rex Stout
Tammy Baxter had been murdered and her body was in
the parlor."
"What kind of agencies?"
"Casting. Theater and television."
"Do you visit them daily?"
"No. About twice a week."
"And the other five days? How do you pass the
time?"
"I don't. It passes me. Two days, sometimes three, I
make horses and kangaroos and other animals. I go to a
workroom and model them and make molds. Something
on the order of Cellini. I get eight dollars for a squirrel.
Twenty for a giraffe."
"Where is the workroom?"
"In the rear of a shop on First Avenue. The name of
the shop is Harry's Zoo. The name of the owner is
Harry Arkazy. He has a sixteen-year-old daughter
as beautiful as a rosy dawn, but she lisps. Her name is
Ilonka. His son's name—"
"This is not a comedy, Mr. Ferris," Wolfe snapped.
He twisted his neck to look at the wall clock. "I engaged
to act for Miss Annis only five hours ago and I haven't
arranged my mind, so my questions may be at random,
but they are not frivolous." His eyes moved to take
them in. "Now that I have seen you and heard you I am
better prepared, and I can consider how to proceed. I
will leave it to Miss Annis to thank you—three of you—
for coming." He arose. "I expect to see you again."
Martha was gawking at him. "But Hattie said to tell
you everything we told the cops!"
He nodded. "I know. It would take all night. I'll go to
that extreme only by compulsion; and if you told them
anything indicative they are hours ahead of me and I
would only breathe their dust."
Dell boomed. "You call this investigating a murd
er?
Asking me if I had paid my room rent and how I spend
my afternoons?"
It was a little odd, the four suspects coming uninvited
to empty the bag and being told to go almost before
they got started. Noel Ferris, his lip twisted, got up and
The Homicide Trinity 189
headed for the hall. Martha Kirk, getting no satisfaction
from Wolfe, appealed to me: didn't I realize that Hattie
had been arrested for a murder she didn't commit? Paul
Hannah sat and listened to us, chewing his lip, then got
up and touched her arm and said they might as well go.
Raymond Dell stood, lowered his chin, gazed at Wolfe
half a minute, registering indignation, wheeled, and
marched out. (Exit Dell, center.) I followed Martha and
Hannah to the hall, but she preferred to put on her
galoshes herself. When I opened the door for them a
few snowflakes danced in.
Back in the office, Wolfe was sitting again, leaning
back with his eyes closed. I asked if he wanted beer, got
a nod, and went to the kitchen and brought a bottle and
glass, and a glass of milk for me. He opened his eyes,
took in a bushel of air through his nose and let it out
Homicide Trinity Page 24
