Rex Stout - Nero Wolfe - Final Deduction Page 9

  She had opened her mouth a couple of times to cut in on him, but Wolfe in full voice is not easy to interrupt, particularly if his eyes are pinning you. "I told you on the phone what I want," she said.

  "You will please sit down, Miss Tedder. I like eyes at a level."

  She glanced at me. The poor girl was stuck. She didn't want to sit down because he had ordered her to, but to stay on her feet would be silly. She compromised. One of the yellow chairs was at the end of my desk, and she came and sat on it. As I have said, when she walked you might have thought her hips were in a cast, but sitting she wasn't at all hard to look at.

  "I didn't come," she said, "to listen to a lecture about legal ownership by a detective. You know what I came for. My mother paid you sixty thousand dollars for nothing. All you did was put that thing in the paper. For sixty thousand dollars you certainly ought to help me find the money my mother gave the kidnaper. That's more than ten per cent."

  Wolfe grunted. "Twelve. That might be thought adequate. How would I go about it? Have you a suggestion?"

  "Of course not. You would go about it the way any detective would. That's your business."

  "Could I count on your cooperation?"

  She frowned at him, her chin up. "How could I cooperate?"

  He didn't frown back. Having put her in her place, he didn't mind if she didn't stay put. "That would depend on developments," he said. "Take a hypothesis. Do you know what a hypothesis is?"

  "You're being impertinent."

  "Not without provocation. You didn't know what a Shirvan is. The hypothesis: If I took the job you offer, I would want to begin by asking you some questions. For example, what were your relations with Dinah Utley?"

  She stared. "What on earth has that got to do with finding the money?"

  He nodded. "I thought so. You're under a misapprehension. You expected me to pit my wits and Mr Goodwin's eyes and legs against the horde of official investigators who are combing the countryside and looking under every stone. Pfui. That would be infantile. I would have to approach it differently, and the best way-indeed, the only way-would be through Dinah Utley. You know that Mr Goodwin and I suspected that she was implicated in the kidnaping; you heard your mother and Mr Goodwin discuss it Wednesday afternoon. Now we don't suspect it; we know it. Therefore-"

  "How do you know it? Because she was there and was killed?"

  "Partly that, but there were other factors. She was here Tuesday afternoon. Therefore at least one of the kidnapers was someone with whom she had had contacts, and I would want to learn all I could about her. How well did you know her?"

  "Why-she was my mother's secretary. She lived in the house, but she didn't regard herself as a servant. I thought my mother let her take too many liberties."

  "What kind of liberties?"

  "Different kinds. She ate with us. If we had people in for cocktails, she came in if she felt like it. If I asked her to do something, she might and she might not. You might have thought we were equals. You know, I must say, I think this is clever. Perhaps you are clever. I should have thought of this myself, about Dinah, only I really don't know much about her. She was there seven years, and I suppose she had friends of her own class, but I never saw them."

  "Would your brother know more about her?"

  "He might." She nodded. "Yes, I'm sure he would. He did things with her just to irritate me-like playing cards with her. Gin rummy in the library. You might have thought they were equals, and perhaps they should have been. Once he took her to a prizefight."

  "That sounds promising. I would want to talk with him. I don't want to shock you, Miss Tedder, but the question should be asked. Is it conceivable that the kidnaping was a joint enterprise of Miss Utley and your brother? That your brother had a hand in it?"

  "Good heavens." Her lips parted. She stared. "Of course it's conceivable. That's the second thing you've thought of that I should have thought of."

  "Given time, undoubtedly you would have. Your emotions have interfered with your mental processes. We would-"

  "But if he-Noel-then he knows where the money is! He has the money!"

  "Not too fast, Miss Tedder. That's merely a surmise. We would have to consider all possibilities, all those who had frequent opportunity to see Miss Utley. I understand that your mother's brother, Ralph Purcell, lives in that house. Was he on good terms with her?"

  She was only half listening. He had darned near lost her with his suggestion about Noel. I wouldn't have been surprised if she had bounced up, granting that a person of her class and with her hips could bounce, and gone to have it out with her brother. Wolfe saw he would have to repeat his question, and did so.

  "Oh," she said, "he's on good terms with everybody, or he tries to be. He ran errands for Dinah, but of course he would. He runs errands for me too. He's all right, I like him, I really do, but he's so-oh, well. He just doesn't belong. He certainly wouldn't have anything to do with any kidnaping; he wouldn't have the nerve."

  "But he was friendly enough with Miss Utley to make it plausible that he knows the names of her associates not of your class, and possibly has met some of them."

  "Yes. No doubt of that. You won't have to talk with my brother. I'll talk with him."

  "That would help. That was the sort of thing I had in mind when I asked if I could count on your cooperation. I believe I have named all those who had- No, there's another possibility. I saw in the newspaper the name of your mother's attorney-Frost, I think?"

  "Yes. Andrew Frost."

  "It might be that an attorney would have frequent contacts with a client's secretary, especially if he is also the client's business adviser. Did Mr Frost see much of Miss Utley?"

  "I suppose he did, but I don't know, after she came to work for my mother. Of course he saw her when she worked for him. She was his secretary. He let my mother take her. It was supposed to be a great favour, but he really did it for my father. My father died not long after that. My father was a true gentleman. I'd like to tell you something, I don't know why, if you'll promise not to repeat it. Do you promise?"

  "Yes."

  Her eyes came to me. "Do you?"

  "Sure."

  She went back to Wolfe. "My father told me once that his father was a bandit."

  There you are. She was actually human.

  Wolfe nodded. "Then I merely corroborated him. I am obliged to you, Miss Tedder. Manifestly, if I took the job you offer, I would need to speak with Mr Purcell and Mr Frost. I would also need to be informed about the gathering in the library of your home Wednesday evening. For example, I understand that drinks were served. Who served them?"

  She frowned again. "Why? Why do you need to know that?"

  "You conceded the possibility that I am clever. Any discussion in which Mr Purcell and Mr Frost and your brother took part may be informative. You say that Mr Purcell likes to do errands. Did he serve the drinks?"

  "No. The bar cart was there and we served ourselves, or someone-you know how it is. I think-yes, Uncle Ralph took brandy to Mr Frost. My mother likes a champagne cobbler after dinner, and she mixes it herself. She poured me some champagne, but I didn't drink much."

  "What did your brother have?"

  "Champagne. He gulps it."

  "And Mr Vail?"

  "I didn't notice, but probably bourbon and water. No matter how clever you are, this can't possibly mean anything. You're just trying to impress me." She glanced at her wristwatch. "Do you want to see my uncle first? He would come tonight if I tell him to."

  "Not tonight." Wolfe cocked his head. "I'm not trying to impress you, but I have imposed on you. I must reject your demand, Miss Tedder-I shouldn't have called it an offer, since you have offered nothing. Your brother has. He was here this afternoon, and I have engaged with him to recover the money. My share will be one-fifth."

  She was gawking. Of course a person of her class shouldn't gawk, but you can't blame her. A person of my class would have thrown something at him. "You're lying," she said. "You're
trying to make me say you can have part of it. Of course one-fifth would be ridiculous. You already have more than enough from my mother, but I suppose, if you-very well, if you get it I'll give you ten thousand dollars. If you get all of it. Of course you'll have to do it, after everything I've told you."

  Wolfe was slowly moving his head from side to side. "Amazing," he said. "How old are you?"

  "I'm not a minor, if that's what you're thinking. I'm twenty-one."

  "Amazing that a creature so obtuse could live so long without meeting disaster. I was at pains to make it clear that we were discussing a hypothesis, and the idea that you were being gulled never entered your mind. I don't know how a brain that is never used passes the time. It will be futile to try to browbeat your brother into deferring to you; I shall hold him to his engagement with me. I was not lying when I said that he anticipated you. He was here when you telephoned."

  I suppose her father, Harold F. Tedder, was responsible for the way she took it. Naturally a true gentleman would teach his children never to argue with underlings. Since she couldn't very well order him to leave, his office and his house, there was only one thing to do, and she did it. She got up and walked out, stiff hips and all. She did it all right too, no hurry and no prolonging it. I got to the hall ahead of her and had the door open when she reached the front, and she said thank you as she passed. Breeding will tell. I shut the door, bolted it for the night, returned to the office, and told Wolfe, "Taking candy from a baby."

  He grunted and pushed his chair back. "An insupportable day. I'm going to my bed." He rose.

  "What about Saul and Fred and Orrie?"

  "The morning will do." He moved.

  CHAPTER 9

  Saturday morning I heard the seven-o'clock news on the radio in my room, and the eight-o'clock news on the radio in the kitchen. Saul and Fred and Orrie had come and had gone up to Wolfe's room. I was listening to the nine-o'clock news on the radio in the office when they came down. Ordinarily two or three times a day is often enough, but ordinarily I am not curious as to whether some dick or state cop or FBI hero has found half a million bucks, with or without a Mr Knapp in illegal possession of it.

  I had also read the morning paper. The DA's office was playing it safe on the death of Jimmy Vail. The cause of death had been Benjamin Franklin, definitely, and there was no evidence or information to indicate that it had not been an accident, but it was still under investigation. I doubted that last. The DA had to say it, to guard against the chance of something popping up, but I doubted if the five people who had last seen him alive were being pestered much.

  There was no doubt at all that the kidnaping was being investigated. Since Jimmy had died before telling anyone how or where he had been snatched, or where and by whom he had been kept, or where he had been released, there was no lead at all. The caretaker of the country house near Katonah had been taken apart by a dozen experts, but he had stuck to it that Vail had left in his Thunderbird shortly after eight Sunday evening to drive back to town, and had returned in the Thunderbird about half past seven Wednesday morning, tired, mad, dirty, and hungry. He had told the caretaker nothing whatever. The theory was that the kidnapers had taken the Thunderbird and kept it wherever they had kept him, and, when they turned him loose, had let him have it to drive home in, which was a perfectly good theory, since they certainly wouldn't want to use it. It was being examined by a task force of scientists, for fingerprints, of course, and for where and how far it had been, and who and what had been in it. It was described both in the paper and on the radio, and shown on television, with the request that anyone who had seen it between Sunday evening and Wednesday morning should communicate immediately with the police, the Westchester DA, or the FBI.

  Also described, but not shown on television, was the suitcase the money had been in: tan leather, 28 by 16 by 9, old and stained, scuffed a little, three brass clasps, one in the middle and one near each end. Mrs Vail had taken it to the bank, where the money had been put in it, and the description had been supplied by the bank's vice-president. It was the property of Jimmy Vail-or had been.

  The best prospect of some kind of a lead was finding someone who had been at Fowler's Inn or The Fatted Calf Tuesday evening and had seen one of the kidnapers. The man Mrs Vail had given the suitcase to had had his face covered. It was assumed that a confederate had been present at both places to make sure that Mrs Vail didn't show anyone the notes she got from the phone books. People at both places remembered seeing Mrs Vail, and the cashier at Fowler's Inn had seen her go to the phone book and open it, but no one had been found who had seen anybody take a visible interest in her.

  Funeral services for Jimmy Vail would be held at the Dunstan Chapel Saturday morning at eleven.

  Thanks to Nero Wolfe and Archie Goodwin, though no one but Lon Cohen was thanking us, the murder of Dinah Utley was getting a big play both in print and on the air. Not only had her body been found at or near the spot where Mrs Vail had delivered the suitcase, but also someone had leaked it, either in White Plains or in Manhattan, that she had been an accomplice in the kidnaping. So Cramer had bought the deduction Wolfe had made from the notes and had passed it on to Westchester, and when Ben Dykes came at eleven-thirty there would be some fancy explaining to do.

  As I said, I was in the office listening to the nine-o'clock news when Saul and Fred and Orrie came down from Wolfe's room. The kidnaping and murder items had been covered, so I switched it off and greeted them. If you wanted an operative for a tough job and were offered your pick of those three, never having seen or heard of them before, you would probably take Fred Durkin or Orrie Cather, and you would be wrong. Fred was big and broad, and looked solid and honest and was, but from the neck up he was a little too solid for situations that needed quick reactions. Orrie was tall and handsome and smart, and in any situation his reaction was speedy enough, but it might be the right reaction and it might not. Saul was small and wiry, with a long narrow face and a big nose. He always looked as if he would need a shave in another hour, he wore a cap instead of a hat, and his pants had always been pressed a week ago. But there wasn't an agency in New York that wouldn't have taken him on at the top figure if he hadn't preferred to free lance, and at ten dollars an hour he was a bargain for any job you could name.

  "Six hundred three ways," Orrie said. "And I want a picture of Noel Tedder."

  "I'll take one of Ralph Purcell," Fred said.

  "So you're taking one apiece?" I went to the safe and squatted to twirl the knob. "The very best way to waste time and money. Foolproof. As for pictures, I only have newspaper shots."

  "I'll get them from Lon," Saul said. "Mr Wolfe says your credit's good with him."

  "It sure is." I swung the safe door open and got the cash box. "Credit, hell. A truckload of pictures wouldn't make a dent in what he owes us. So you've got Andrew Frost?"

  He said he had, and added that Wolfe had said that I would be in the office to receive reports. I had known that was coming. In a tough case it's nice to know that we have three good men on the job, even for chores as chancy as solo tailing, but the catch is that I have to sit there on the back of my lap to answer the phone and go to help if needed. I gave each of them two cees in used fives, tens, and twenties, made entries in the cash book, and supplied a few routine details, and they went. They had arrived at eight and it was then nine-thirty, so we were already out $37.50.

  I was behind on the germination and blooming records, which I typed on cards from notes Wolfe brought down from the plant rooms, so after opening the mail I got the drawer from the cabinet and began entering items like "27 flks agar sip no fung sol B autoclaved 18 lbs 4/18/61." I was fully expecting a phone call from either Noel or Margot, or possibly their mother, but none had come by eleven, when Wolfe came down. There would be no calls now, since they would all be at the funeral services.

  The session with Ben Dykes, who came at 11:40, ten minutes late, which I had thought would be fairly ticklish, wasn't bad at all. He didn't e
ven hint at any peril to us, as far as he was concerned, though he mentioned that Hobart was considering whether we should be summoned and charged. What he wanted was information. He had seen our signed statement, and he knew what we had told Cramer and I had told Mandel, but he wanted more. So he laid off. Though he didn't say so, for him the point was that a kidnaper had collected half a million dollars right there in his county, and there was a chance that it was still in his county, stashed somewhere, and finding it would give him a lot of pleasure, not to mention profit. If at the same time he got a line on the murderer of Dinah Utley, okay, but that wasn't the main point. So he stayed for more than an hour, trying to find a crumb, some little thing that Mrs Vail or Dinah Utley or Jimmy had said that might give him a trace of a scrap of a hint. When, going to the hall with him to let him out, I said Westchester was his and he and his men must know their way around, he said yeah, but the problem was to keep from being jostled or tramped on by the swarms of state cops and FBI supermen.

  At one o'clock the radio had nothing new, and neither had we. Saul and Fred and Orrie had phoned in. They had all gone to the funeral, which was a big help. That's one of the fine features of tailing; wherever the subject leads you, you will follow. I once spent four hours tagging a guy up and down Fifth and Madison Avenues, using all the tricks and dodges I knew, and learned later that he had been trying to find a pair of gray suspenders with a yellow stripe.