by Rex Stout
“Let him, Lina said belligerently. “I knew he would deny it.
“What do you want to ask her? Archer demanded,
“The best way to find that out is to listen. I turned to Lina. “When I saw you yesterday afternoon, coming out of his apartment, I thought something was stirring. It was rude the way you went right by me.
She met my gaze but had no comment.
“Was it yesterday, I asked, “that he treated you badly?
“Not only yesterday, she said evenly. “But yesterday he refused definitely and finally to marry me.
“Is that so bad? I mean, a guy can’t marry everyone.
“He had said he would-many times.
“But hadn’t you been keeping your fingers crossed? After all, it was a kind of special situation. He knew that you knew something that would get him arrested for murder if you spilled it-not to mention other criminal things, whatever they were. Didn’t it occur to you that he might be kidding you along for security reasons?
“Yes, I-yes, it did, but I didn’t want to believe it. He said he loved me. He made love to me-and I wanted him for my husband. She decided that wasn’t adequate and improved on it. “I wanted him so much! she exclaimed.
Til bet you did. I tried not to sound sarcastic. “How do you feel about it now?
Do you think he ever loved you?
“No, I don’t! I think he was heartless and cruel. I think he was afraid of me.
He just wanted me not to tell what I knew. And I began to suspect-the way he acted-and yesterday I insisted that we must be married immediately, this week, and when I insisted he lost his temper and he was-he was hateful.
“I know he’s got a temper. Was there any urgent reason for wanting to get married quick, like expecting a visitor from heaven, for instance a baby?
She flushed and appealed to Archer. “Do I have to let him insult me?
“I beg your pardon, I said stiffly, “but you seem to be pretty sensitive for a woman who was hell-bent to marry a murderer. Did-
“I didn’t know he was a murderer! I only knew if I told about what Mrs Rackham told me and what he told me-I knew he would be suspected even more than he was.
“Uh-huh. When the blow-up came yesterday, did you threaten to tell what you knew?
“Yes.
I goggled at her. “You know, sister, I declared, “you should have spent more time thinking this through. You are unquestionably the bummest liar I have ever run across. I thought maybe—
Dykes broke in. “She says Rackham probably figured he wasn’t in much danger, so many months had passed.
“Yeah? That’s partly what I mean. Whatever she says, what about Rackham? He’s not boob enough to figure like that. He would know damn’ well that five months is nothing in the life of a murder. He has his choice between marrying this attractive specimen or having her run to you with the ink for his death warrant, and not only does he act heartless and cruel, he actually opens the door for her to go! This guy who had it in him to sneak into the woods at night with a knife to stab his wife to death and a fighting dog-he just opens the door for this poor pretty creature to tell the world about it! My God, you would buy that?
“You can’t tell about people, Archer said. “And she has details. Take the detail of the phone call Wolfe made to Mrs Rackham and what he told her about her husband. Not even a good liar would have that detail, let alone a bum one.
“Nuts. I was disgusted. “No such phone call was made, and Mrs Rackham never said it was. As for Rackham’s having been in with crooks, either he wasn’t and sister here invented it, in which case you’d better watch your step, or he was, and sister here got his tongue loosened enough for him to tell her about it. I’m perfectly willing to believe she is capable of that, however bum a liar she may be.
“You say Wolfe didn’t make that call to Mrs Rackham?
“Yes.
“And he didn’t learn that Rackham’s income came from a connection with criminal activities?
“My God, Mrs Rackham didn’t leave our office until after noon that Friday. And he called her that evening to tell her? When he hadn’t moved a finger to start an inquiry, and I hadn’t either? He was good, but not that good. I turned to
Lina. “I thought maybe you had had a coach for this, possibly got in with some professionals yourself, but not now, the way you tell it. Obviously this is your own baby-I beg your pardon if you don’t want babies mentioned-say your own script-and it is indeed a lulu. Framing a man for murder is no job for an amateur. Aside from the idea of Rackham’s preferring a jury trial to you, which if I may get personal is plain loco, look at other features. If it had been the way you say, what would Wolfe and I have done after I phoned him that night and told him Mrs Rackham had got it? Our only interest was the fee she had paid us.
Why didn’t we just hand it all to the cops? Another little feature, do you remember that gathering that evening? Did either Rackham or his wife act like people who were riding the kind of storm you describe? Don’t ask me, I could be prejudiced; ask all the others.
I left her for Archer. “I could go on for an hour, but don’t tell me you need it. I don’t wonder you grabbed at it, it looked as if it might possibly be the break you had been hoping for, and besides, she had fixed it up with some trimmings that might be very juicy, like the stuff about me working for Rackham.
I have not and am not, and I have none of his dough. Must I punch more holes in it?
Archer was studying me. “Is it your contention that Miss Darrow invented all this?
“It is.
“Why?
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Do you want me to guess?
“Yes.
“Well-my best one first. Have you noticed her eyes-the deep light in them? I think she’s trying to take over for you. She liked Mrs Rackham, and when she got left that two hundred grand it went to her head. She thought Rackham had killed her-I don’t know whether it was a hunch or what-and when time passed and it looked as if he wasn’t going to get tagged for it, she decided it was her duty or mission, or whatever word she uses for it, to step in. Having the two hundred grand, she could afford a hobby for a while. That was when she started to put the eyes on Rackham. I expect she thought she could get him into a state where he would dump it all out for her, and then she would not only know she was right but would also be able to complete her mission. But the months went by and he never dumped, and it probably got a little embarrassing, and she got fanatic about it, and she must even have got desperate, judging by the performance she finally ended up with. She decided Rackham was guilty, that part was all right, and the only thing lacking was evidence, so it was up to her to furnish it.
I leaned forward at her. “It’s not enough to want to do a good deed, you damn’ fool. Wanting is fine, but you also need some slight idea of how to go about it.
It didn’t bother you that one by-product was making me out a cheap crook, did it? Many thanks sincerely yours.
She dropped her head into her hands to cover her face, and convulsions began.
They sat and looked at her. I looked at them. Archer was pulling jerkily at his lower lip. Dykes was shaking his head, his lips compressed.
“I suggest, I said modestly, raising my voice to carry over the noise Lina
Darrow was making, “that when she quiets down it might pay to find out if
Rackham has told her anything that might help. That item about his getting dough from gambling or rackets could be true, if they actually got intimate enough for him to tell her the story of his life.
They kept their eyes on her. She was crying away what had looked like a swell chance to wrap up a tough one, and I wouldn’t have been surprised if they had burst into tears too. I pushed back my chair and stood up.
“If you get anything that I can be of any help on, give me a ring. I’ll have a crowded afternoon, but word will reach me.
I walked out.
Chapter Nineteen
As I hit the sidewalk in fr
ont of the courthouse my watch said 11.17. It was sunny and warm, and people looked as if they felt pleased with the way things were going. I did not. In another few minutes they would have Lina Darrow talking again, and whether she gave it to them straight this time or tried her hand on a revised version, they might decide any minute that they wanted to talk with Barry Rackham, and that could lead to anything. The least it could lead to was delay, and my nerves were in no condition for it.
I dived across the street to a drug store, found a booth, and dialled Roeder’s number. No answer. I went to where my car was parked, got in, and headed for the parkway.
On my way back to Manhattan I stopped four times to find a phone and dial
Roeder’s number, and the fourth try, at a Hundred and Sixteenth Street, I got him. I told him where I was. He asked what they had wanted at White Plains.
“Nothing much, just to ask some questions about a lead they had got. I’m going to the Churchill to fix it to go ahead with that date to-day.
“You can’t. It has been postponed until tomorrow at the other end. Arrange it for tomorrow.
“Can’t you switch it back to to-day at your end?
“It would be difficult and therefore inadvisable.
I considered how to put it, in view of the fact that there was no telling who or how many might hear me. “There is a possibility, I said, “that the Churchill will have a vacant suite tomorrow. So my opinion is that it would be even more inadvisable to postpone it. I don’t know, but I have an idea that it may be to-day or never.
A silence. Then, “How long will it take you to get to your office?
“Fifteen minutes, maybe twenty.
“Go there and wait.
I returned to the car, drove to a parking lot on Third Avenue in the upper
Forties, left the car there, and made steps to Madison Avenue and up to 1019.1 sat down, stood at the window, sat down, and stood at the window. I wouldn’t ring the phone-answering service because I wanted my line free, but after a few minutes I began thinking I better had, in case Roeder had tried for me before I arrived. The debate on that was getting hot when the ring came and I jumped for it.
It was Roeder. He asked me through his nose, “Have you phoned the Churchill?
“No, I was waiting to hear from you.
“I hope you will have no trouble. It has been arranged for to-day at four o’clock.
I felt a tingle in my spine. My throat wanted to tighten, but I wouldn’t let it.
Til do my best. In my car?
“No. I’ll have a car. I’ll stop in front of your office building precisely at two forty-five.
“It might be better to make it the Churchill.
“No. Your building. If you have to reach me I’ll be here until two-thirty. I hope you won’t have to.
“I do too.
I pressed the button down, held it for three breaths, and dialled the
Churchill’s number. It was only ten to one, so surely I would get him.
I did. As soon as he heard my name he started yapping about the message I had sent him, but I didn’t want to try to fix it on the phone, so I merely said I had managed to call off the trip out of town and was coming to see him. He said he didn’t want to see me. I said I didn’t want to see him either, but we were both stuck with this and I would be there at one-thirty.
At a fountain service down on a side street I ate three corned-beef sandwiches and drank three glasses of milk without knowing how they tasted, burned my tongue on hot coffee, and then walked to the Churchill and took the elevator to the tower.
Rackham was eating lunch, and it was pitiful. Apparently he had done all right with a big glass of clam juice, since the glass was empty and I couldn’t see where the contents had been thrown at anything, but all he did in my presence was peck at things-some wonderful broiled ham, hashed brown potatoes, an artichoke with anchovy sauce, and half a melon. He swallowed perhaps five bites altogether, while I sat at a distance with a magazine, not wanting to disturb his meal. When, arriving, I had told him that the appointment with Zeck was set for four o’clock, he had just glared at me with no comment. Now, as he sat staring at his coffee without lifting the cup, I got up and crossed to a chair near him and remarked that we would ride up to Westchester with Roeder.
I don’t think I handled it very well, that talk with Barry Rackham, as he sat and let his coffee get cold and tried to pretend to himself that he still intended to eat the melon. It happened that he had already decided that his only way out was to come to some kind of an understanding with Arnold Zeck, but if he had been balky I doubt if I would have been able to manage it. I was so damned edgy that it was all I could do to sit still. It had been a long spring and summer, those five months, and here was the day that would give us the answer.
So there are two reasons why I don’t report in detail what Rackham and I said there that afternoon: first, I doubt if it affected the outcome any, one way or another; and second, I don’t remember a word of it. Except that I finally said it was time to go, and he got himself a man-sized straight bourbon and poured it down.
We walked the few blocks to my building. As we waited at the curb I kept my eyes peeled for a Chewy sedan, but apparently Roeder had been promoted, either that or the Chewy wasn’t used for important guests, for when a car nosed in to us it was a shiny black Cadillac. I got in front with the driver and Rackham joined
Roeder in the rear. They didn’t shake hands when I pronounced names. The driver was new to me-a stocky middle-aged number with black hair and squinty black eyes. He had nothing whatever to say to anyone, and for that matter neither did anybody else, all the way to our destination. Once on the Taconic State Parkway a car passed and cut in ahead of us so short that it damn’ near grazed our bumper, and the driver muttered something, and I went so far as to glance at him but ventured no words. Anyway my mind was occupied.
Evidently Rackham had been there before with his eyes open, for there was no suggestion that he should take to the floor, and of course I was now a B. We left the parkway a couple of miles south of Millwood, to the right, followed a curving secondary road a while, turned on to another main route, soon left it for another secondary road, and after some more curves hit concrete again. The garage was at a four-corners a little out of Mount Kisco, and I never did know what the idea was of that roundabout way of getting there. In front it looked like any other garage, with gas-pumps and a gravelled plaza, and cars and miscellaneous objects around, except that it seemed a little large for its location. Two men were there in front, one dressed like a mechanic and the other in a summer suit, even a necktie, and they exchanged nods with our driver as we headed in.
The big room we drove into was normal too, like a thousand others anywhere, but a variation was coming. Our car rolled across, past pillars, to the far end, and stopped just in front of a big closed door, and our driver stuck his head out, but said nothing. Nothing happened for thirty seconds; then the big door slowly opened, rising; the driver pulled his head in, and the car went forward. As we cleared the entrance the door started back down, and by the time we had eased across to a stop the door was shut again, and our reception committee was right there-two on one side and one on the other. I had seen two of them before, but one was a stranger. The stranger was in shirt sleeves, with his gun in a belt holster.
Stepping out, I announced, “I’ve got that same gun under my armpit.
“Okay, Goodwin, the tenor said. “We’ll take care of it.
They did. I may have been a B, but there was no discernible difference between inspection of a B and of an unknown. In fact, it seemed to me that they were slightly more thorough than they had been on Sunday, which may have been because there were three of us. They did us one at a time, with me first, then Rackham, then Roeder. With Roeder they were a little more superficial. They went over him, but not so enthusiastically, and all they did with the briefcase was open it and glance inside and let Roeder himself shut it again.
One change
from Sunday was that two of them, not one, accompanied us to the door in the rear wall, and through, across the vestibule, and down the fourteen steps to the first metal door. The sentinel who opened and let us in was the same pasty-faced bird with a pointed chin-Schwartz. This time the other sentinel did not stay at the table with his book work. He was right there with Schwartz, and interested in the callers, especially Rackham.
“We’re a little early, Roeder said, “but they sent us on in.
That’s all right, Schwartz rumbled. “He’s ahead of schedule to-day. One didn’t come.
He went to the big metal door at the other end, pulled it open, and jerked his head. “On in.
Entering, Roeder took the lead, then Rackham, then me. Schwartz brought up the rear. He came in three paces and stood. Arnold Zeck, from behind his desk, told him, in the cold precise tone that he used for everything, “All right,
Schwartz.
Schwartz left us. As the door closed I hoped to heaven it was as soundproof as it was supposed to be.
Zeck spoke. The last time you were here, Rackham, you lost control of yourself and you know what happened.
Rackham did not reply. He stood with his hands behind him like a man ready to begin a speech, but his trap stayed shut, and from the expression of his face it was a good guess that his hands, out of sight, were making a tight knot.
“Sit down, Zeck told him.
Since the seating was an important item of the staging, I had stepped up ahead after we entered and made for the chair farthest front, a little to the left of
Zeck’s desk and about even with it, and Roeder had taken the one nearest me, to my right. That left, for Rackham, of the chairs near the desk, the one on the other side, and he went to it. He was about twelve feet from Zeck, Roeder about the same, and I was slightly closer.
Zeck asked Roeder, “Have you had a talk?
Roeder shook his head. “Since Mr Rackham had never met me before, I thought it might be better for you to explain the proposal to him. Naturally he will want to know exactly how it is to be handled before deciding whether to help with it. He reached to get his briefcase from the floor, put it on his lap, and opened it.
