by Rex Stout
“No. Come home at once.”
“You have Saul.”
“Not here. I need you. Mrs. Oliver and Mr. Perdis are in the front room. Mrs. Oliver has been here since seven o’clock. Mr. Khoury will arrive at any moment. I have been pestered by this confounded telephone all day. Mrs. Talbot called for the fifth time half an hour ago to say that she hopes to be here by ten o’clock, and it’s nearly that now. On second thought, bring Mr. Weed. I have a question for him.”
“You’ll have to bulldog him first.”
“Pfui. Bring him. How soon will you be here?”
I told him fifteen minutes, and hung up. “No time for a drink,” I told Weed. “Nor for a floor show, with me on the floor. Mr. Wolfe wants me. You may came along if you care to.”
“I was going there,” he said grimly, “when I saw you.”
“Good. But take it easy. He has a knife in his belt that he uses to stab people in the back.”
On the way out I handed the white apron, whose name was Gil, a couple of ones. Outside, we flagged a taxi, and as it rolled uptown I undertook to straighten him out. “Look at it,” I said. “If we’re stools and selling
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her to the cops there’s not much of anything you can do but shoot us, and even that wouldn’t help her any. The fact is, we’re with her and you’re not. We know she didn’t kill her husband. Either you thought she had and probably still do, or you killed him yourself. If the former, your feeling for her has got a smudge. If the latter, you did a swell job, handling it so that she gets the credit for it. Go soak your head.”
“Why did you give the police the gun?”
“Soak your head some more. We’re working for her, not you.”
No comment until the cab was turning into 35th Street, then: “I don’t think she killed him.”
“Good for you. We appreciate it.”
“And I didn’t.”
“That’s not so important, but we’ll keep it in mind.”
At the curb in front of the old brownstone there was a black limousine with a chauffeur in it. That would be Mrs. Oliver’s. Mounting the seven steps to the stoop, I used my key, but the chain bolt was on and I had to ring for Fritz. As he took Weed’s coat and I disposed of mine, he said, “Thank God, Archie, thank God,” and I asked him what for, and he said, “For you. It has been very bad. Three phone calls during dinner, and that woman was in the front room.”
“I can imagine. How many are in there now?”
“Three. Her and two men.”
So Khoury had come. I took Weed to the office. Wolfe was at his desk with a book. Weed headed for him, talking. “I want to know why-”
“Shut up!” Wolfe bellowed.
Wolfe’s bellow would stop a tiger ready to spring. Weed stood and glared at him. Wolfe finished a para-graph, inserted his marker, put the book down, and issued a command. “Sit down. I prefer eyes at my level. Sit down! When you arrived at the Hazens’ for dinner Monday evening were the others already there?”
“I want to know why you gave the gun-”
“Bah. Are you a jackass? You must be, to suppose you can call me to account. Sit down! You said you
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would give an arm to help Mrs. Hazen. Keep your arm;
I want only some information. Must I repeat my question?”
Five of the yellow chairs were there. Weed took the nearest one. He ran his fingers through his mop of hair, but only a comb and brush could have handled it. “Mrs. Oliver was there,” he said. “And Khoury. Perdis and Mrs. Talbot came soon after I did. I don’t see why-”
“This is what I want to know. While you were there, was any one of them absent from the gathering long enough to go to Mr. Hazen’s bedroom and back? Consider it. Dismiss your fatuous huff for the moment and put your mind on something pertinent.”
Weed tried to. To do so he had to take his eyes from Wolfe, so he tilted his head back and looked at the ceiling. He took his time, then lowered his head. “I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure none of them left the room at all, either before we went to the dining room or after. Of course they were all there when I left, so-”
The doorbell rang. I went to the hall, but Fritz was there opening the door. When the newcomer had crossed the sill I stepped back into the office and gave Wolfe a nod, and he asked, “Mrs. Talbot?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Mr. Weed to the hall, then bring them in, and Mr. Weed to the front room. We may need him later.”
“I’m staying right here,” Weed declared, “until I-”
“You are not. I have work to do and no time to bicker with you. Out. Out!”
“But damn it-”
“Out.”
Weed looked at me, standing at the door. What he met was a stony gaze. He got up and came, past me and into the hall. When he was four paces along I went and opened the door to the front room.
Chapter 9
I put Anne Talbot in the chair nearest me because from her face and the way she moved it seemed likely that she might need smelling salts any minute, and there were some in my drawer. Next to her was Jules Khoury, then Mrs. Oliver, and then Ambrose Perdis. I had expected remarks as they entered, especially from Mrs. Oliver, who had been waiting more than three hours, but there hadn’t been a peep from anyone. I felt like an usher at a funeral.
Wolfe took them in. “Since you are here,” he said, “I assume that you are prepared to act on my proposal. Mrs. Oliver?”’
I had her in profile and couldn’t see her deep-set yellow eyes, and from that angle her sagging jowl was even less attractive. She opened her bag and took out a slip of paper. “This is a cashier’s check,” she said, “on the Knickerbocker Trust Company for two hundred and fifty thousand dollars, made out to me. I’ll endorse it. Or I won’t.”
“That will of course depend. Mrs. Talbot?”
Anne Talbot’s lips parted but no sound came. She tried again and got it out. “I have a certified check for sixty-five thousand dollars and forty thousand dollars in cash. I’ll pay the rest as soon as I can-I think I can pay it in a month, but it might take longer. Of course you’ll want me to sign something, a note, whatever you say, I tried-” She had to swallow. “I tried-” Another swallow. “I did the best I could.”
“Mr. Perdis?”
“I have a certified check for my share.”
“The full amount?”
“Yes.”
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“Mr. Khoury?”
“I have nothing.”
“Indeed. Then why are you here?”
“I want to know what’s in the box. If there’s anything worth a quarter of a million to me, I’ll buy it.”
“The deadline is midnight.” Wolfe glanced at the clock. “You would have ninety minutes.”
“I don’t think so. I don’t think Mrs. Hazen knows about this. I think you’re putting the screws on us without her knowledge. Whatever you’re doing, I want to know what’s in the box.”
“Well.” Wolfe’s eyes left him to take in the others. “This situation was not covered by the terms of my proposal. Two of you are prepared to comply with the terms and should not suffer for Mr. Khoury’s dissent. As for you, Mrs. Talbot, I am willing to accept your declaration of good faith, that you have done your best. You will of course commit yourself in writing to pay the balance. As for you, Mr. Khoury, if you are willful so am I. Whatever the box contains that relates to you will be turned over to the police at midnight. Archie, get the box and the key.” Back to them: “We have procured a key that will serve.”
Thinking it desirable to keep up appearances, I first got a Marley from the drawer and loaded it. Then to the cabinet for the key, and then to the safe. As I worked the combination my back was to them, but as I opened the door and took out the box I had an eye on them, not only for appearances. It was conceivable that Perdis or Khoury, or both, had come with the idea of getting something for nothing if a chance offered. All four o
f them had twisted around in their chairs to follow me, and they twisted back as I circled around to Wolfe’s desk. As I was putting the box down the phone rang. It would. I was going to tell Wolfe to take it, but didn’t have to.
He lifted the receiver. “Yes?��� Yes, Saul��� indeed��� That isn’t necessary��� Satisfactory��� No, stay there, Archie is here��� How sure are
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you?��� Very satisfactory��� No, call again in an hour or so.”
As he hung up there was a gleam in his eye. “Open it,” he said. I inserted the key, fiddled with it a little, got it, lifted the lid all the way, stared a second for effect, and said, “It’s empty,” and when Perdis bounced up and came, my hand jerked up with the gun, not having been told that that part of the performance was over. I slipped the gun in my pocket and turned the box on its edge so that all could see the shiny inside. Perdis blurted at Wolfe, “Damn you! You’ve got it! You had a key!” Mrs. Oliver squawked something. Anne Talbot lowered her head and covered her face with her hands. Jules Khoury stood up, vetoed whatever he had intended, and sat down again. He spoke. “Use your head, Perdis. He didn’t even know it was empty. Why would he-”
“You’re wrong,” Wolfe snapped. “I did know it was empty. I knew it last night when I made my proposal.”
They were speechless. Anne Talbot lifted her head. “I made the proposal,” Wolfe said, “not out of caprice, to plague you, but for a purpose, and the purpose has been served. You have the gun, Archie? Go and stand at the door. No one is to leave.”
I obeyed. Perdis, still on his feet, was in the way, so I detoured around back of the chairs. He was yapping, and Khoury was up again. Of course I hadn’t the dim-mest idea what was coming next as I shut the door and put my back to it, gun in hand, but apparently Wolfe had. Ignoring them, he had lifted the receiver and was dialing. Since he hadn’t consulted the book and there were only three phone numbers he bothered to keep in his head, I knew who he must be getting, even before he spoke and asked for Mr. Cramer. In a moment he had him.
“Mr. Cramer? The situation has developed as I expected. How soon can you be here with Mrs. Hazen?��� No. I will not. I told you more than half an hour ago that I would almost certainly call you��� No. I told you that her presence would be
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essential. If you come without her you won’t be admitted��� Yes. I am prepared to suggest a substitute��� Yes��� Yes!”
Mrs. Oliver was on her feet too; they all were, except for Anne Talbot, and as Wolfe hung up Perdis said through his teeth, “Damn you, you gave it to the po-lice!”
“No,” Wolfe said. “Are you a dunce? Would I contrive such a hocus-pocus just to pass the time? Confound it, sit down! I have something to say that you would prefer to hear before Mr. Cramer arrives.”
“I’m leaving,” Mrs. Oliver said. “This was all a trick and you’ll regret it. I’m going.”
“No one is going. Mr. Goodwin wouldn’t shoot you, but he wouldn’t have to. Sit down.”
Khoury, with his chair right back of his knees, merely had to bend them. Perdis, going to his chair, jostled Mrs. Oliver and didn’t apologize. She turned to face me at the door, decided that Wolfe was right, I wouldn’t have to shoot, and sat.
“You heard me on the phone,” Wolfe told them. “Mr. Cramer will be here shortly, and Mrs. Hazen will be with him. The nature of your peculiar relations with Mr. Hazen will have to be divulged to him, that can’t be helped, but he doesn’t have to know of your invasion of that house yesterday evening. It’s only fair-don’t interrupt me, there isn’t much time-”
Perdis persisted. “You have no evidence of our relations with Hazen.”
“Pfui. Your bid to Mr. Goodwin? It’s only fair that three of you should know about the box. All that I told you about it last evening was true-Mr. Hazen showing it to his wife and telling her that if he died she should get it and bum the contents, and Mr. Goodwin getting it from beneath the drawer after sending you from the room. Asked by Mr. Perdis if I had opened it, I said no. But Mr. Goodwin had, and it was empty.”
“I don’t believe it,” Mrs. Oliver said. “It’s a trick.”
Wolfe nodded. “I concocted a trick, that’s true, but it’s a fact that the box was empty. That’s what you have
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a right to know, three of you. It’s an understatement to say that you would like to know where the former contents are, but I have no idea and neither has Mr. Goodwin, and I’m sure Mrs. Hazen hasn’t. The obvious conjecture is that Mr. Hazen transferred them to some other place which he preferred. If I could offer-”
“She has them,” Mrs. Oliver said harshly. “Lucy Hazen. I suppose you don’t know it or you wouldn’t have had us come ready to pay. She took them after she killed him and now we’ll have her. She’ll be in prison but we’ll have her the rest of our lives.”
“I don’t believe it,” Anne Talbot said. She hadn’t spoken since the box had been opened. “Lucy wouldn’t do that. But this is even worse than it was��� Now we don’t know��� and I tried so hard���”
“I don’t believe the box was empty,” Khoury told Wolfe. “I think you’re lying.”
“I don’t,” Perdis said. “Why would he? There’s six hundred and five thousand dollars here ready for him.” His eyes went to Wolfe. “But this Cramer-that’s Inspector Cramer? You said he has to know about what you call our peculiar relations with Hazen. Why does
he?”
The doorbell rang. I was on post and could have let Fritz take it, but they were all in their chairs, so I opened the door to the hall and stepped through. I expected to see Cramer alone, since there hadn’t been time for him to get Lucy from the jug, but she was there with him on the stoop, and at her elbow was Sergeant Purley Stebbins. He must have had her brought to 20th Street when Wolfe made his first phone call. And as I dropped the gun in my pocket and moved, the door to the front room opened and Theodore Weed darted out and to the front door. He couldn’t possibly have heard through the soundproofed wall and door, so either he had been looking out a window or his feeling for her included some kind of a personal electronic receiver.
Seeing no reason to spoil his fun, I let him open the door. Cramer shot him a glance as he entered. Lucy crossed the threshold, saw him, and stopped. She
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stared, and he stared back. He lifted a hand and let it drop. Stebbins, back of her, growled, “On in, Mrs. Ha-zen.” She looked at me, and back at Weed, and I said, “Everything’s under control, Mrs. Hazen,” and Weed backed up a step. I thought, and still think, that he had intended to warn her that Wolfe and I were a pair of Judases, but the mere sight of her paralyzed him. He stood and stared while Cramer and Stebbins got their coats off and I took hers and put it on a hanger. When we headed for the office he followed us, and there was no point in herding him back to the front room. Either Wolfe had the cards or he hadn’t.
Three steps in, Cramer stopped to send his eyes around. I didn’t envy him any. The four people there weren’t a bunch of bums, anything but; they had position and connections and lawyers if necessary, and much wampum. And here he was, in the office of a private detective, with a woman charged with murder. Of course he had a good reason: he suspected he might have stubbed his toe. I hadn’t been present when Wolfe had made his previous phone call, but presumably he had said that he expected soon to be ready to offer a substitute for Mrs. Hazen, and Cramer knew Wolfe only too well.
But naturally he didn’t care to give that reason to that audience. He faced them. “I’m here because Wolfe told me that you four people would be here and I wanted to know what he had to say to you. I brought Mrs. Hazen because from something Wolfe said I got the idea that it would be in the interest of justice for her to be here. I want to make it plain that as an officer of the law I don’t rely on any private detective to do my job for me, and what’s more no private detect
ive is going to interfere.”
He went to the red leather chair and sat. Stebbins took Lucy to the extra chair, next to Perdis, and stood behind her. That way they had their murderer sur-rounded, with Cramer in front of her only three paces off. Weed went to a chair over by the big globe. As I circled around to get to my desk Wolfe spoke.
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“Mr. Stebbins. Mrs. Hazen is your prisoner, and of course it’s your duty to guard her. But I doubt if she intends any outbreak. If you wish to stand by the murderer of Mr. Hazen I suggest that you move to Mr. Khoury.”
Silence. Not a sound. For the record, for how people react, four of them-Cramer, Lucy, Mrs. Oliver, and Anne Talbot-kept their eyes at Wolfe. Perdis and Sergeant Stebbins moved theirs to Khoury. Weed, over by the globe, got up, took a step, and stopped. Khoury’s head tilted back, slowly, until his eyes were forced on Wolfe past the tip of his long thin nose. “That’s my name,” he said. “I’m the only Khoury here.”
“You are indeed.” Wolfe’s head turned. “Mr. Cramer. As I said, I am prepared to offer a substitute for your consideration, but that’s all. Not only have I no conclusive evidence, I have none at all. I have only some suggestive facts. First, Mr. Hazen was a blackmailer. He extorted large sums, not only from these four peo-ple, but also from others, using his public-relations business as a cover. He had in his possession-”
“You can’t prove that,” Mrs. Oliver blurted.
“But I can,” he told her. “Item, you have in your bag a check for two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. For what? Account for it. I advise you, madam, to hold your tongue. I would prefer to tell Mr. Cramer only what I must to support my suggestion, and I’ll go beyond that only if you force me to. You shouldn’t have challenged me. Now that you have, were the amounts that you paid Mr. Hazen, ostensibly for professional services, actually paid under coercion?”
