Orrie, still in the doorway with Fred, called over, "Damn it, have you got it?" Margot was saying something which I didn't bother to hear, and Purcell was making noises. I looked at my wrist; it's nice to know exactly what time you found half a million bucks. Eight minutes to three. I went and put the trays back in the trunk, gently and carefully, closed the lid, and came back. Noel was fastening the lid of the suitcase, paying no attention to what his sister was saying.
"Okay," I said, "we'll move. Saul and Noel will take it out to the car." I put out a hand to Saul. "The gun. I'll unload it and leave it on the kitchen table. Fred and Orrie will follow Saul and Noel. I'll stay in the kitchen to guard the phone until you have the car turned around and headed out. When you tap the horn I'll come. Miss Tedder, if you came to see about that leaky roof, don't neglect it just because we got in the way. As Mr Wolfe remarked to your brother just this afternoon, a leaky roof should be attended to."
CHAPTER 14
When the doorbell rang at five minutes to six Monday afternoon I was in my chair in the office, leaning back, my feet up on the corner of the desk, looking at the headline on the front page of the Gazette:
VAIL RANSOM FOUND
$500,000 in Birds' Egg Trunk
With that second hot exclusive given to Lon Cohen in three days, our credit balance with him was colossal. The picture of the suitcase on page 3, with the lid open, had been taken by me. The article, which I had read twice, was okay. I was given a good play, and so was Wolfe, and Saul and Fred and Orrie were named. I had given Lon nothing about Margot or Uncle Ralph, but had mentioned Jake's gun. A gun improves any story.
The money was in the bank, but not the one it had come from. Noel had demonstrated that he was neither a piker nor a soft touch. When I had put the suitcase on the couch in the office, and he had opened it, and we had all gathered around to admire the contents, including Wolfe, he had taken out a couple of bundles of cees, counted off two grand and handed it to Orrie, then two grand to Fred, two to Saul, and five to me. Then he had asked Wolfe, "Do you want yours now?" and Wolfe had said it would have to be counted first since his share was a percentage; and Wolfe had gone to the kitchen to tell Fritz there would be four guests for dinner. It was then five o'clock, but at seven, just two hours later, Fritz had served us the kind of meal you read about. No shad roe.
The arrangement for the night was determined by two facts: one, there wasn't room in the safe; and two, Noel didn't want to take it home, which was understandable. So when bedtime came I got pajamas for him and took him up to the south room, which is above Wolfe's, checked the towel supply and turned the bed down, and took the suitcase up another flight to my room. It wouldn't go under my pillow, so I made room for it on the bed stand right against the pillow. We hadn't counted the money.
It was counted Monday morning in a little room at the Continental Bank and Trust Company on Lexington Avenue, where Wolfe has had his account for twenty years. Present were an assistant vice-president, two tellers, and Noel and me. Of course Noel and I were merely spectators. They started on it a little after ten, and it was a quarter past twelve when they declared finally and positively that the figure was $489,000. Noel took twenty twenties for pocket money; $100,000 was deposited in Wolfe's account; and an account was opened for Noel with a balance of $388,600. There would be no service charge, the assistant vice-president told Noel, with a banker's smile at his own hearty joke. We had said nothing about where it had come from, and he had asked no questions, since Wolfe was an old and valued customer, but he must have had a guess if he ever looked at a newspaper. Of course the Gazette wasn't out yet.
Noel and I shook hands in parting, out on the sidewalk. He took a taxi headed uptown. I didn't hear what he said to the hackie, but I gave myself five to one that he was going straight to 994 Fifth Avenue. A nice little bank balance in his own name is very good for a man's feet. I took a little walk to call on Lon Cohen.
I rather expected some kind of communication from Mrs Vail or Andrew Frost before the day was out, but the afternoon went by without a peep. I also rather expected that Wolfe would put on a strutting act, his own special brand of strutting, explaining how simple it had been to dope out where the money was, but he didn't, and I wasn't going to pamper him by asking for it. I got back in time to dispose of the morning mail, which was skimpy, before lunch, and after lunch he finished his book and got another one from the shelf, and I got onto the germination and blooming records. There would soon be some new cards to add to the collection, with the bank balance where it now was.
When the doorbell rang at 5:55 and I took my feet down from the desk and went to see, there was Inspector Cramer.
That broke a precedent. Knowing Wolfe's schedule as he does, he may come at 11:01 or 6:01, but never at 5:55. Did it mean he wanted five minutes with me first? It didn't. When I let him in, all I got was a grunt as he went by, and when I joined him in the office he was in the red leather chair, his hat on the stand, his feet planted flat, and his jaw set. Not a word. I went to my chair, sat, planted my feet flat, and set my jaw. We were like that when Wolfe came in. As he passed the red leather chair he grunted, a perfect match for the grunt Cramer had given me. In his own chair, his bulk adjusted satisfactorily, he grunted again and asked, "How long have you been here?"
Cramer nodded. "So you can ride Goodwin for not telling you. Sure. You ride him, and he needles you. A damn good act. I've seen it often enough, so don't waste it on me. You lied to me yesterday morning. You said you had an idea where the money was. Nuts. You knew where it was. How did you know?"
Wolfe's brows were up. "Have you shifted from homicide to kidnaping?"
"No. If you knew where it was you knew who put it there. It must have been Jimmy Vail. He died Wednesday night. You told me yesterday that you had no evidence, either about the whereabouts of the money or Vail's death. That was a barefaced lie. You used the evidence about the money to get your paws on it. Now you're going to use the evidence about Vail's death to pounce on something else, probably more money. How many times have I sat here and yapped at you about withholding evidence or obstructing justice?"
"Twenty. Thirty."
"I'm not doing that now. This is different. I'm telling you that if the evidence you've got about Vail's death is evidence that he was murdered, and if you refuse to give it to me here and now, whatever it is I'll dig it up, I'll get it, and I'll hang an accomplice rap on you and Goodwin if it's the last thing I do this side of hell."
"Hhmmm," Wolfe said. He turned. "Archie. I have a good memory, but yours is incomparable. Have we any shred of evidence regarding the death of Mr Vail that Mr Cramer lacks?"
I shook my head. "No, sir. He probably has a good deal, little details, that we lack." I turned to Cramer. "Look. I certainly know everything that Mr Wolfe knows. But yesterday he not only told you that he was convinced that Vail was murdered, I'm with him on that, he also said he was all but certain that he knew who had killed him. I'm not. Certain, my eye. I'd have to pick it out of a hat."
"He didn't say that. That was a question."
Wolfe snorted. "A question only rhetorically. You said I was grandstanding-your word. Apparently you no longer think so, which isn't surprising, since I have found the money. In effect, you are now demanding that I do your interpreting for you."
"That's another lie. I am not."
"But you are." Wolfe turned a palm up. "Consider. As I told you yesterday, my conclusions about the whereabouts of the money and Mr Vail's death were based on deductions and assumptions from the evidence at hand, and I have no evidence that you do not have. Yesterday you said you would leave me to my deductions and assumptions. Now you want them. You demand them, snarling a threat."
"You're twisting it around as usual. I didn't snarl."
"I'm clarifying it. I am under no necessity, either as a citizen or as a licensed detective, to share the product of my ratiocination with you. I am not obliged to describe the mental process by which I located the money and identifie
d the murderer of Miss Utley and Mr Vail. I may decide to do so, but it rests with my discretion. I shall consider it, and if and when-"
The doorbell rang. As I went to the hall I was considering whether it was Andrew Frost with a legal chip on his shoulder or some journalist after crumbs. It was neither. It was Ben Dykes of Westchester County and a stranger. It might or might not be desirable to let them join the party, so I only opened the door to the two-inch crack the chain permitted and spoke through it. "Back again?"
"With bells on," Dykes said.
"You're Archie Goodwin?" the stranger asked. He showed a buzzer, not Westchester. New York. "Open up."
"It's after office hours," I said. "Give me three good reasons why I should-"
"Take a look at the bells," Dykes said and stuck a paper through the crack.
I took it, unfolded it, and looked. Thoroughly. It was a little wordy and high-flown, but I got the idea. "Mr Wolfe will want to see this," I said. "He's a great reader. Excuse me a minute." I went to the office, waited until Wolfe finished a sentence, and told him, "Sorry to interrupt. Ben Dykes from Westchester with a New York dick for an escort, and with this." I showed the paper. "A court order that Archie Goodwin is to be arrested and held on a charge of grand larceny. On a complaint by Mrs Althea Vail. It's called a warrant." I turned to Cramer. "Got any more questions before I leave?"
He didn't even glance at me. His eyes were fastened on Wolfe, who had just said that he had identified a murderer. Wolfe put out a hand, and I gave him the paper, and he read it. "She's an imbecile," he declared. "Bring them in."
"We don't need Goodwin," Cramer said. "You'll have him out on bail in the morning."
"Bring them," Wolfe snapped.
I returned to the front, removed the chain, pulled the door open, invited them in, and was surprised to see that there were three of them. Presumably the third one had stayed at the foot of the steps as a reserve in case I started shooting. You've got to use tactics when you go for a gorilla. I soon discovered how wrong I was when they followed me to the office and the third one darted by me to Wolfe's desk, whipped a paper from a pocket, and shoved it at Wolfe. "For you," he said and wheeled and was going, but Ben Dykes caught his arm and demanded, "Who are you?"
"Jack Duffy, process server," he said and jerked loose and trotted out.
"A goddam paper boy," Dykes said disgustedly. I stepped to the hall, saw that he shut the door as he went, and stepped back in. Wolfe had picked up the document and was scowling at it. He read it through, let it fall to the desk, leaned back, closed his eyes, and pushed his lips out. In a moment he pulled them in, then out, in, out...
Dykes said, "All right, Goodwin, let's go." The New York dick had suddenly recognized Inspector Cramer and was trying to catch his eye so he could salute, but Cramer was staying at Wolfe. In a minute Wolfe opened his eyes, straightened up, and asked his expert on women, me, "Is she a lunatic?" He tapped the document. "This is a summons. She is suing me, not only for the money in the suitcase, but also to recover the fee she paid me."
"That hurts you," Cramer growled.
Wolfe regarded him. "Mr Cramer. I have a proposal. I would prefer not to describe it for other ears, and I think you share that preference. It is within the discretion of the police to postpone service of a warrant of arrest if it is thought desirable. I suggest that you advise Mr Dykes, who is accompanied by a member of your force, to wait until tomorrow noon to take Mr Goodwin into custody. After they leave I'll make my proposal."
Cramer cocked his head and screwed his lips. He had to pretend to give it a hard look, but actually there was nothing to it. By now he knew darned well that Wolfe wasn't grandstanding. He spoke. "Dykes is from Westchester. He has a New York man with him for courtesy, but the arrest is up to him." His head turned. "What about it, Dykes? Would you have to phone White Plains?"
Dykes shook his head. "That wouldn't be necessary, Inspector. I'm supposed to use my head."
"All right, use it. You heard what Wolfe said. If it's just a stall, you can take Goodwin tomorrow."
Dykes hesitated. "If you don't mind, Inspector, I'd like to be able to say that you made it a request."
"Then say it. It's a request."
Dykes went to Wolfe's desk and picked up the warrant, then turned to me. "You won't leave the state, Goodwin."
I told him I wouldn't dream of it, and he headed out, followed by the dick, who never had got to salute Cramer. I got in front of them, wanting to be polite to a man who had postponed tossing me in the can, and let them out. When I returned to the office Wolfe was speaking.
"... but I must first satisfy myself. As I told you, I have no evidence. Mr Goodwin has already been served with a warrant, and I have been served with a summons, and I prefer not to expose myself to an action for libel."
"Nuts. Telling me privately, libel?"
"It's conceivable. But in candor, that's not the main point. I intend to take a certain step, and it's highly likely that if I told you what I have deduced and assumed you would make it extremely difficult for me to take it, if not impossible. You wouldn't dare to take it yourself because, like me, you would have no evidence. You'll hear from me, probably tonight, and by tomorrow noon at the latest."
Cramer was anything but pleased. "This is a hell of a proposal."
"It's the best I can do." Wolfe looked at the clock. "I would like to proceed."
"Sure you would." Cramer reached for his hat and put it on. "I should have let Dykes take Goodwin. I'd sleep better if I knew he was in a cell." He rose. "You'd have had to take your certain step anyway." He moved and, halfway to the door, turned. "If you call me tomorrow and say you've decided that your deductions and assumptions were wrong, God help you." He went. That time my going to see that the hall was empty when the door closed wasn't just routine; he might really have stayed inside to get a line on the certain step. As I stepped back in Wolfe snapped, "Get Mrs Vail."
That wasn't so simple. First I got a female, and after some insisting I got Ralph Purcell. After more insisting he told me to hold the wire, and after a wait I had him again, saying that his sister wouldn't speak with Nero Wolfe or me either. I asked if he would give her a message, and he said yes, and I told him to tell her that Wolfe wanted to tell her how he had known the money was in the house. That did it. After another wait her voice came.
"This is Althea Vail. Nero Wolfe?"
He was at his phone. "Yes. I am prepared to tell you how I knew where the money was, but it's possible that your telephone is tapped. I am also-"
"Why on earth would it be tapped?"
"The pervasive curiosity of the police. I am also prepared to tell you various other things. Examples: the name of the man to whom you gave the suitcase on Iron Mine Road; how I know that there was no Mr Knapp; the reason why Mr Vail had to be killed. I shall expect you at my office at nine o'clock this evening."
Silence. She hadn't hung up, but the silence lasted so long that I thought she had left the phone. So long that Wolfe finally asked, "Are you there, madam?"
"Yes." More silence, but after half a minute: "I'll come now."
"No. It will take some time and would run into the dinner hour. Nine o'clock."
"I'll be there." The connection went.
We hung up, and I turned to Wolfe. "What's all the hurry? You haven't got a single solitary scrap."
He was glaring at the phone and switched it to me. "I will not have you carted off to jail on a complaint by that silly wretch. It should be worth keeping. Is that thing in order?"
"I suppose so. It was the last time we used it."
"Test it."
I got up, slipped my hand in between my desk and the wall, and flipped a switch. Then I went and sat in the red leather chair and said in a fairly low voice, "Nero Wolfe is going to put on a charade, and let us hope he doesn't break a leg." I went to my desk and turned it off, then went to the kitchen, opened a cupboard door, did some manipulating, and flipped a switch, and in a few seconds my voice came out: "N
ero Wolfe is going to put on a charade, and let us hope he doesn't break a leg." I reached in and turned it off, returned to the office, and reported, "It's okay. Anything else?"
"Yes. That idiot may have a gun or a bomb or heaven knows what. Stay near her."
"Or she may have a lawyer."
"No. No indeed. She's not that big an idiot." He picked up the summons and scowled at it.
CHAPTER 15
She came at 8:50, ten minutes ahead of time. I was getting Wolfe's okay on a change in the program when the doorbell rang. In order to stay near her I would have had to sit in one of the yellow chairs near the red leather chair, and I prefer to be at my desk, or I would have had to put her in one of the yellow chairs near me, and Wolfe prefers to have a caller in the red leather chair because the window is then at his back.
It was a pleasant May Day evening, and she had no wrap over her tailored suit, so the only problem was her handbag-a big black leather one with a trick clasp. I learned about the clasp when I tried to open it, after I had got it from her lap and taken it to my desk. Her reaction to my snatching it, which I did as soon as she was seated and had no hand on it, showed the condition of her nerves. She made no sound and no movement, but merely stared at me as I took it to my desk, and she said nothing while I fiddled with it, finding the trick clasp and opening it, and inspected the contents. Nothing in it seemed to be menacing, and when I went and put it back on her lap she had transferred the stare to Wolfe. I might have felt a little sorry for her if it hadn't been for the warrant that Ben Dykes would be back with at noon tomorrow. When you grab a woman's bag and open it and go through it, and all she does is sit and stare, she could certainly use a little sympathy.
Rex Stout - Nero Wolfe - Final Deduction Page 14
