Rex Stout - Nero Wolfe (25 page)

“Was anybody else along?”

“Nope. Just us two.”

“Did you see anybody on the way that knows you?”

“No.”

“Did anybody here see you except Wolfe?”

“No, I didn't come in. I wanted to get back in time for the roping—I mean the contest, not roping Eisler. You're asking pretty good questions, but you'll hit the same snag with me as with Cal Barrow. You'll have to show some reason why I wanted to kill Eisler.”

“Yeah. Or why Wolfe would want you to, the man you work for. Or why that Miss Rowan would, the woman that's hired him.” He turned to Wolfe. “You better look out with this Laura Jay. She ain't cut out for a liar.” He turned to Laura. “I'll be having a talk with you, Laura. Private.” He turned to Roger Dunning. “This lawyer you got to get bail for Cal, is he any good?”

Roger's long narrow face was even longer. “I think he's all right. He seems to know his way around.”

“I want to see him. Come on, Nan. You come along. We're not going to get—”

The doorbell rang. Mel had Nan under control, so I went. A glance through the glass of the front door showed me a hundred and ninety pounds of sergeant out on the stoop—Sergeant Purley Stebbins of Homicide. I proceeded, put the chain bolt on, opened the door to the two-inch crack the chain permitted, and said politely, “No clues today. Out of stock.”

“Open up, Goodwin.” Like a sergeant. “I want Nan Karlin.”

“I don't blame you. She's very attractive—”

“Can it. Open up. I've got a warrant for her and I know she's here.”

There was no use making an issue of it, since there had probably been an eye on the house ever since Cramer left. As for the warrant, of course the prints she had left at Eisler's apartment had caught up with her. But Wolfe doesn't approve of cops taking anyone in his house, no matter who. “What if you brought the wrong warrant?” I asked.

He got it from a pocket and stuck it through the crack, and I took it and looked it over. “Okay,” I said, “but watch her, she might bite.” Removing the chain, swinging the door open, and handing him the warrant as he crossed the sill, I followed him to the office. He didn't make a ceremony of it. He marched across to Nan, displayed the paper, and spoke. “Warrant to take you as a material witness in the murder of Wade Eisler. You're under arrest. Come along.”

My concern was Laura. As like as not, she would blurt out that he should take Mel too because she had told him about it, so I lost no time getting to her, but she didn't utter a peep. She stood stiff, her teeth clamped on her lip. Wolfe let out a growl, but no words. Nan gripped Mel's arm. Mel took the warrant, read it through, and told Stebbins, “This don't say what for.”

“Information received.”

“Where you going to take her?”

“Ask the District Attorney's office.”

“I'm getting a lawyer for her.”

“Sure. Everybody ought to have a lawyer.”

“I'm going along.”

“Not with us. Come on, Miss Karlin.”

Wolfe spoke. “Miss Karlin. You will of course be guided by your own judgment and discretion. I make no suggestion. I merely inform you that you are under no compulsion to speak until you have consulted an attorney.”

Stebbins and Mel Fox both spoke at once. Stebbins said, “She didn't ask you anything.” Mel said, “You goddam snake.” Stebbins touched Nan's elbow and she moved. I stayed with Laura as they headed out, Nan and Stebbins in front and Mel and Roger following; seeing them go might touch her off. She still had teeth on her lip. When I heard the front door close I went and took a look and came back.

I expected to find Wolfe scowling at her, but he wasn't. He was leaning back with his eyes closed and his lips moving. He was pushing out his lips, puckered, and then drawing them in—out and in, out and in. He only does that, and always does it, when he has found a crack somewhere, or thinks he has, and is trying to see through. I am not supposed to interrupt the process, so I crossed to my desk, but didn't sit, because Laura was still on her feet, and a gentleman should not seat himself when a lady or a wildcat is standing.

Wolfe opened his eyes. “Archie.”

“Yes, sir.”

“It would help to know whether Miss Jay had told Mr. Fox or not. Is there any conceivable way of finding out?”

I raised a brow. If that was the crack he had been trying to see through he was certainly hard up for cracks. “Not bare-handed,” I said. “It would take a scientist. I know where you can get one with a lie detector. Or you might try a hypnotist.”

“Pfui. Miss Jay, which is it now, now that Miss Karlin is in custody? Had you told Mr. Fox?”

“Yes.”

“Yesterday morning in the hotel lobby?”

“Yes.”

“I suppose you understand what that will let you in for—or rather, I suppose you don't. You will be—”

The phone rang. I got it. “Nero Wolfe's office, Archie Goodwin speaking.”

“This is Cal, Archie. Do you know where Laura is?”

“I might have an idea. Where are you?”

“I'm at the hotel. I'm out on bail. They say she went out this morning and she hasn't been back, and she's not at the Garden. I thought maybe she might have been to see you.”

“Hold the wire a minute. I'll go to another phone.”

I got my memo pad, wrote on it,
Cal Barrow out on bail looking for Laura, get him here & you can check her
, tore off the sheet, and handed it to Wolfe. He read it and looked up at the clock. His afternoon date with the orchids was at four.

“No,” he said. “You can. Get her out of here. Of course you must see him first.”

I resumed at the phone. “I think I know where to find her. It's a little complicated, and the best way—”

“Where is she?”

“I'll bring her. What's your room number?”

“Five-twenty-two. Where is she?”

“I'll have her there in half an hour, maybe less. Stay in your room.”

I hung up and faced Laura. “That was Cal. He's out on bail and he wants to see you. I'll take—”

“Cal! Where is he?”

“I'll take you to him, but I'm going to see him first. I don't ask you to promise because you'd promise anything, but if you try any tricks I'll show you a new way to handle a calf. Where's your jacket?”

“It's upstairs.”

“Go get it. If I went for it you might not be here when I came back.”

The Paragon Hotel, around the corner from Eighth Avenue on 54th Street, not exactly a dump but by no means a Waldorf, is convenient for performers at the Garden—of course not including the stars. When Laura and I entered there were twenty or more cow-persons in the lobby, both male and female, some in costume and some not. We went to the elevator, and to my surprise she stuck to the program as agreed upon in the taxi, getting out at the fourth floor to go to her room. I stayed in, left at the fifth, found Room 522 and knocked on the door, and it opened before I was through knocking.

“Oh,” Cal said. “Where is she?”

He was still in the same outfit he had worn yesterday—bright blue shirt, blue jeans, and fancy boots. His face wasn't any fresher than his clothes.

“She's in her room,” I said. “She wanted to fix her hair. Before she joins us I want to ask you something. Do I see a chair in there?”

“Why, sure. Come on in and sit.” He gave me room and I entered. There were two chairs, about all there was space for, what with the bed and chest of drawers and a little table. I took one. Cal stood and yawned, wide.

“Excuse me,” he said. “I'm a little short on sleep.”

“So am I. Some things have been happening, but Laura can tell you about them. Miss Rowan has hired Nero Wolfe to investigate, and he knows about what
you told me yesterday. Laura can tell you how he found out. I haven't told the cops or anyone else.”

He nodded. “I figured you hadn't or they would have asked me. I guess you've got your tongue in straight. I'm mighty glad. I guess I picked the right man to tell.”

“Frankly, you could have done worse. Now you can tell me something else. Yesterday morning you met Laura downstairs and had breakfast with her. Remember?”

“Sure I remember.”

“Mel Fox says that when you and Laura went into the lobby after breakfast you left her and went to the cigar counter to buy cigarettes, and he went and had a little talk with you. Remember that?”

“I don't seem to.” He frowned. “I didn't buy no cigarettes. I got a carton here in my room. Mel must of got mixed up.”

“I'd like to be sure about this, Cal. Go back to it, it was only yesterday. You and Laura had breakfast in the coffee shop?”

“Yes.”

“Then you went into the lobby together. If you didn't leave her to buy cigarettes, maybe it was to buy a paper. The newsstand is—”

“Wait a minute. We didn't go into the lobby. We left the coffee shop by the street door. We went down to the Garden to look at some things.”

“Then it might have been when you came back. You went into the lobby then.”

“We didn't come back. When we left the Garden we went up to that Miss Rowan's. I guess you might tell me why this is so particular. What does Mel say we talked about?”

“You'll know pretty soon. I had to be sure—”

There was a knock at the door, and he lost no time getting to it. It was Laura. She was running true to form. We had agreed on fifteen minutes, and it had been only ten. The reunion was mighty dramatic. Cal said, “Well, hello.” Laura said, “Hello, Cal.” He stood aside so she wouldn't have to brush against him as she entered. I arose and said, “You fudged a little but I expected you to.” Cal shut the door and came and said, “Gosh, you look like you got throwed by a camel.”

I took command. “Look,” I told them, “when I leave you'll have all the time there is, but now I've got some talking to do and you can listen. Sit down.”

“You've already talked,” Laura said. “What did you tell him?”

“Nothing yet but I'm going to. If you don't want to listen I know who will—Inspector Cramer if I phone him and say I'm ready to unload. Sit down!”

Laura sat in the other chair. Cal sat on the edge of the bed. “I guess you got the drop on us, Archie,” he said. “I hope you don't feel as mean as you sound.”

“I don't feel mean at all.” I sat. “I'm going to tell you a love story. I take valuable time to tell it because if I don't God only knows what Laura will be up to next. Yesterday she told you a colossal lie. Today she told me she killed Wade Eisler. Then she—shut up, both of you! Then she pointed a loaded gun at my back and would have plugged me if she hadn't been interrupted. Then she told another lie, trying to frame Mel Fox for the murder. That's—”

“No!” Laura cried. “That was the truth!”

“Nuts. You and Cal didn't go to the lobby after breakfast. You went to the Garden and from there to Miss Rowan's. You didn't tell Mel Fox what you said you did. You were framing him, or trying to.”

“You're talking pretty fast,” Cal said. “Maybe you'd
better slow down and back it up a little. If you can. What was the lie she told me yesterday?”

“That she had gone to Eisler's apartment Sunday night. She hadn't. She has never been there. It was Nan Karlin that Eisler took there Sunday night, and Nan told Laura about it when she got back to the hotel. Laura told you
she
had been there for two reasons: she didn't want to admit she had been careless about a horse and got her ear bruised, and the real reason, she hoped it would make you realize it was time to break out the bridle. All for love. You are her dream man. She wants to hook you. She wants you to take her for better or for worse, and she has done her damnedest to make it worse.”

“I didn't say that!” Laura cried.

“Not in those words. Was that why you told him that lie or wasn't it? Try telling the truth once.”

“All right, it was!”

Cal stood up. “You might go and leave us alone awhile. You can come back.”

“This is a respectable hotel. A gentleman isn't supposed to be in his room alone with a lady. I'll go pretty soon, after I fill in a little. Sit down. She came today and told me she killed Eisler because she thought you had—she still thinks so—and it was her fault and she wanted to take the rap. When I showed her that wouldn't work she took a gun from her bag—she had thoughtfully brought it along—when my back was turned, and got set to let me have it, the idea being that I was the only one who knew you had a motive. She can tell you why that didn't work either. Then—”

“She wouldn't of shot you,” Cal said.

“The hell she wouldn't. Then Mel and Nan and Roger came, and she got another idea. She announced that she had told Mel about Nan going to Eisler's place
Sunday night, the idea being to give Mel a motive for killing Eisler. She said she told him yesterday morning when you and she went to the lobby after breakfast and you went to buy cigarettes. I have now stepped on that one.” I turned to Laura. “You'd better see Mel and tell him. Tell him you had a fit.”

I returned to Cal. “Of course that's fairly thick, trying to dump a murder on a guy, but after all, she would have dumped it on herself if she could. She tried that first, so I admit I should make allowances. I'm telling you all this for three reasons: first, so you'll know what she's capable of and you'll head her off. No one else can. If she keeps on having ideas there'll be hell to pay and you'll probably do the paying. Second, I want you both to realize that whoever killed Eisler is going to get tagged, and the sooner the better. It's one of six people: Nan Karlin, Anna Casado, Harvey Greve, Mel Fox, and Roger Dunning and his wife. If you know of any reason, anything at all, why one of them might have wanted Eisler dead, I expect you to tell me and tell me now.”