through his mouth, straightened up, picked up the bot-
tle, and poured.
He spoke. "Saul and Fred and Orrie. At eight in the
morning in my room."
My brows went up. Saul Panzer is the best operative
south of the North Pole. His rate is ten dollars an hour
and he is worth twenty. Fred Durkin's rate is seven
dollars and he is worth seven-fifty. Orrie Gather's rate
is also seven dollars and he is worth six-fifty.
"Oh." I took a sip of milk. "Then you did get an
inkling?"
"I got a conclusion: that it would be futile to go on
pecking at them. Mr. Leach has been on their flanks for
three weeks, and now Mr. Cramer's army has them
under siege. My only chance of priority is to surprise
him from the rear."
The foam was down to the rim of his glass, and he
lifted it and drank, a healthy gulp. "It's a forlorn chance,
certainly, but it's worth trying for want of a better. I am
not familiar with the procedures of counterfeiters, but
it seems unlikely that an underling would be entrusted
with five hundred twenty-dollar bills. Ten thousand
dollars. We know he had that large supply; and that
permits the conjecture that his connection may be not
190 Rex Stout
with a mere go-between, but with the source. If so, the
quickest way to settle it would be to locate the source."
"Yeah. It's barely possible that Leach has had that
idea."
"No doubt. I assume that when Miss Baxter took a
room in that house her primary mission was to search
the premises for counterfeiting equipment. Obviously
she found none. I also assume that, as you suggested, it
was known that one of the inhabitants of that house had
passed counterfeit money, but it was not known which
one, and they were all under surveillance—by Miss
Baxter in the house and by others outside. And if I were
a Secret Service agent assigned to keep an eye on
Raymond Dell I would suppose that any meeting he had
with a supplier of contraband would be clandestine.
That is how my mind would work. The first day I
followed him to an East Side tenement I would of
course make inquiries, with due caution, but when he
went there five days a week and I learned from Miss
Baxter what he did there, my attention would be di-
verted. But I am not a Secret Service agent. My atten-
tion is drawn to that tenement house, and specifically to
Max Eder, a painter. An artist. I shall send Orrie
Gather there tomorrow morning to reconnoiter. Fred
Durkin will go to the shop on First Avenue—by the
way, I want its address. Harry's Zoo." He made a face.
"Saul Panzer will go to the Mushroom Theater. As I
said, it's a forlorn chance, but what better can we do
with tomorrow? Unless you have a suggestion?"
"I have," I said emphatically. "I respectfully suggest
that you start thinking up something for day after
tomorrow."
He grunted. He picked up his glass, took a gulp of
beer, swallowed it, licked his lips, and put the glass
down. "'Forlorn' was too strong a word," he said. "I
have an expectation that is not wholly unreasonable.
Twelve hours of the time of those three men plus ex-
penses comes to more than three hundred dollars. I
don't hazard that amount, even of a client's money, on a
pig in a poke."
The Homicide Trinity 191
"Then you did get an inkling."
"Certainly."
"Fine. I hope it's not counterfeit." I swiveled and got
the phone and dialed Saul Panzer's number.
Chapter 7
I was there at the beginning of the briefing session in
Wolfe's bedroom at eight o'clock Tuesday morning,
but when the phone interrupted us a second time
Wolfe told me to go down to the office and take it there.
The first time it was a Times reporter wanting to speak
with Wolfe, and when I told him Wolfe was busy and
would I do, he said no and hung up. The second call,
which I took in the office, was from Lon Cohen of the
Gazette, who preferred me to Wolfe any day. He
wanted to know when he could send a photographer to
take a picture of the dirt Wolfe was going to feed the
cops. Evidently one of the two who had carried Hattie
out knew a newspaperman. Lon had other questions,
naturally, but I told him the answers would have to
wait until I found out what they were.
I was considering whether to rejoin the briefing ses-
sion when the phone rang again. It was Nathaniel
Parker. He was sorry he hadn't been able to spring our
client, but it had taken him three hours to find out
where she was, and he hadn't got to see her until
midnight. He expected to have her out by noon.
At nine o'clock the trio came down. One of the rea-
sons they are better than most is that none of them
looks it. Saul Panzer, under-sized and wiry, with a big
nose, could be a hackie. Fred Durkin, broad and burly
and bald, could be a piano mover. Orrie Gather, tall and
trim and dressy, could be an automobile salesman. They
stepped into the office, and Saul said they had been told
192 Rex Stout
to take three hundred dollars apiece in used bills. I said
as I went to open the safe that even with inflation and
even with janitors promoted to building superinten-
dents, fifty bucks was the top price for one, and they
would please return the change. Orrie said that if they
had to buy clerks and elevator men and neighbors there
wouldn't be any change. Saul said they would each give
me a ring every couple of hours or so.
When they had gone I went on with the morning
chores—opening the mail, dusting the desks, filing the
cards of propagation and performance records which
Theodore puts on my desk every evening. That was
just for my hands and eyes; my mind was busy with
something else. Of all the things I do to earn my pay,
from sharpening pencils to jumping a visitor before he
can get his gun up, the most important is riding Wolfe,
and he knows it. Sometimes it's next to impossible to
tell whether he's working or only pretending to. That
was the question that morning. If he was only stalling, if
he had sent for Saul and Fred and Orrie just to keep
from starting his brain going, the thing for me to do was
to go up to the plant rooms and go to work on him. It
was the same old problem, and the trouble was that
that time I would have nothing to say when he nar-
rowed his eyes at me, as he would, and inquired coldly,
"What would you suggest?"
That was what my mind was on, and was still on when
the doorbell rang a little after ten o'clock and I went to
the hall for a look. It was Albert Leach, with his snap-
brim hat down even closer to his ears than yesterday. I
went and opened the door.
"Good morning," he said, and slipped his hand inside
; his overcoat.
I supposed he was producing his credentials. "Don't
bother," I said, "I recognize you."
But it wasn't credentials. His name came out with a
folded paper. Extending it, he said, "Order of the Fed-
eral District Court."
I took it, unfolded it, and read. I read it through. "You
know," I said, "this is a new experience. I can't remem-
The Homicide Trinity 193
ber that we have ever been served with an order from a
Federal court. Mr. Wolfe will be glad to add it to his
collection." I stuck it in my pocket.
"You note," he said, "that I am empowered to search
for the object specified if necessary."
"You won't have to. You heard me tell Cramer yes-
terday that I put it in the safe, and it's still there. Come
in." I gave him room.
He had excellent manners. He entered, removed his
hat, stood while I shut the door, and followed me to the
office. I swung the safe door open, got a comer of the
wrapping paper with my thumb and forefinger, carried
it dangling and put it on my desk, and went back and
brought the lettuce and the string. "There you are," I
said. "I didn't rewrap it after I lifted the prints."
His lips tightened. "You said nothing to Inspector
Cramer about lifting prints."
"No? I thought I had. Of course that was routine
after Miss Annis told us how and where she found it.
You won't find any except hers and mine. I couldn't, and
I was pretty thorough."
"You tampered with evidence."
"What was it evidence of—then?" My feelings were
hurt. "Anyway, the prints are still there. I'll give you a
bag to carry it in, but first we'll have to count it and I
want a receipt. It's still the property of Miss Hattie
Annis."
He opened his mouth and closed it again. It was a
situation. He knew that I knew that he knew that I
knew it was counterfeit, and therefore we both knew
that Hattie would never see it again, but he was still
keeping it off the record. "I'll make a concession," I
offered. "We'll weigh it on the postal scale. Put it on."
He picked it up and put it on the scale, and we looked.
Just under seventeen ounces. I brought a shopping bag
from the kitchen and gave it to him, got at the type-
writer, and tapped out a receipt for 16-11/12 oz. of
twenty-dollar bills. I was tempted to add "in good con-
dition," but remembered that he had warned me not to
try any fancy tricks with the Secret Service. As I
194 Rex Stout
handed him the receipt and my pen the doorbell rang,
and I stepped to the hall.
It was Inspector Cramer. I went and opened the
door. He entered. I shut the door. When I turned his
hand was emerging from inside his coat with a folded
paper. He handed it to me. I read it through. It wouldn't
be worth keeping as a souvenir—just the State of New
York.
"You'll notice," he said, "that I can search for it if I
have to."
"You won't have to. You know where it is."
He strode to the office door and on in. I stopped on
the sill. Leach, at my desk, with the shopping bag in one
hand and the bills in the other, turned.
"It's a problem," I said. "Leach has signed a receipt
for it, but I can tear it up. Why don't you split it half and
half?"
Cramer stood at arm's length from the T-man. A
muscle in the side of his neck was twitching. "That's
evidence in a murder case," he said. "I have a court
order for it."
"So have I," Leach said. "From a Federal court." He
put the bills in the bag, taking his time, and tucked the
bag under his arm. "If you'll send a man to our office
he'll be allowed to examine it, Inspector. We are always
ready to cooperate with the local authorities."
He moved, detouring around Cramer. Cramer
wheeled and followed him, and I stepped aside to let
them by. As Cramer passed he gave me a glare that
would have withered a lesser man. I didn't cooperate by
going to open the door because I wasn't sure I could
keep my face straight, and when they were out and the
door had closed I quit trying. A whoop had wanted out
the second Cramer produced the paper, and now I let it
come. I laughed so loud and so long that Fritz appeared
at the kitchen door to ask what had happened.
There was no point in disturbing Wolfe in the plant
rooms, so I let it wait until he came down at eleven
o'clock. He never whoops, but when I reported and
showed him the court orders he allowed himself an
The Homicide Trinity 195
all-out chuckle and there was a twinkle in his eye. He
said it was just as well he hadn't been present, since
Cramer would probably have accused him of staging it,
and I agreed. I said I was glad the stuff was out of the
house, and he agreed.
Calls came from Saul and Fred and Orrie during the
next half hour. Nothing promising. Orrie had spoken
with Max Eder, the janitor of the building, and three
other tenants. Fred had bought a squirrel and a kanga-
roo and had spent an hour in the workroom in the rear
of the shop. Saul hadn't been inside the building that
contained the Mushroom Theater. From the outside it
looked as if it might collapse if you leaned against it. He
had spent the two hours covering the neighborhood.
When I relayed the reports to Wolfe, who was doing a
crossword puzzle in the London Observer, all I got was
a grunt. I had about decided it was time to go to work on
him when the doorbell rang and I went to answer it.
It was our lawyer and our client. I hadn't told him to
bring her. I was in no mood for her, and Wolfe certainly
wasn't. All I could tell her was that Wolfe either had an
inkling or hadn't, and he was spending her money at the
rate of fifty bucks an hour. I went and opened the door
but occupied the threshold.
"Greetings," I said heartily. "This is a relief! I'm
sorry we couldn't make it sooner, Hattie, but Mr.
Parker did his best. You'll take her home, Nat? I'm tied
up here."
"Don't call me Hattie," she said, "until I find what
you're up to."
"I brought her here," Parker said, "because she in-
sisted." He looked harassed. "I'll be going. I've canceled
two appointments and I'm late for another one. Let me
know if you need me." He went.
"Every time I come here," Hattie said, "there you
stand. What good does it do to open the door if you fill it
up?"
I stood aside and she entered. She took off the gray
woolen gloves and stuck them in her coat pocket, and
unbuttoned her coat, and I certainly would have been
196 Rex Stout
no good if I hadn't helped her off with the coat, so I did,
and put it on a hanger. By the time I had it on the rack
she was at the office door, entering, and by the time I
; got to the office she was in the red leather chair and
Wolfe was glowering at her.
"About that lawyer," she said. "I'm not going to pay
him too, and I told him so. When I told Buster I could
pay forty-two thousand dollars that includes every-
thing."
Wolfe looked at me. I nodded. "All right. I told you I
was under a spell. I scaled it down."
He looked at her. "Very well, madam, I'll pay the
lawyer. You came to tell me that?"
"I told you before not to madam me. First I want to
see that counterfeit money, then I'll know I can trust
you. Show it to me."
Wolfe looked at me. I have seen him handle many a
crisis, but that was too tough for him. "Archie?" he said.
I opened my desk drawer, took out three sheets of
paper, and went and handed her one of them. "A cop
named Cramer brought that," I said. "Signed by a
judge, ordering us to give him the bills and the wrap-
per. Cramer knows Mr. Wolfe and me and doesn't like
us. When he handed me that he sneered."
"I thought so. You're no good. So you—"
"Wait a minute. We had been afraid that would hap-
pen. The cop was too late." I handed her another paper.
"A man had already come with that, signed by a Fed-
eral judge, and I had turned the money over to him, so
the cop was out of luck. I don't say we had arranged it,
but facts are facts. The cop was so sore he marched out
without a word." I handed her the third paper. "That's
the receipt the man signed."
She hadn't even glanced at any of the documents. She
handed them back. "I wish I had been here," she said.
Homicide Trinity Page 25
