Homicide Trinity Read online

  the horse laugh from here. Mr. Wolfe couldn't swallow

  any dinner; he wouldn't even try. We knew and felt all

  this the second we saw her there on the floor. If we had

  known which member of the firm it was, if she had told

  me his name, what would we have done? You ought to

  know, since you claim you know us. I would have gone

  after him. Mr. Wolfe would have left the office, shut the

  door, and gone to the kitchen, and would have been

  there drinking beer when Fritz came home. When he

  went to the office and discovered the body would have

  depended on when and what he heard from me. With

  any luck I would have got here with the murderer

  before you and the scientists arrived. That wouldn't

  have erased the fact that she had been strangled with

  his necktie, but it would have blurred it. I give you this

  just to show you that you don't know us as well as you

  think you do. As for your believing me, I couldn't care

  less."

  His sharp gray eyes were narrowed at me. "So you

  would have gone and got him. So he killed her. Huh?

  How did he know she was here? How did he get in?"

  I produced a word I'll leave out, and added, "Again? I

  have discussed that with Stebbins, and Rowcliff, and

  you. Now again?"

  "What the hell," he said. He folded the statement and

  stuck it in his pocket, shoved his chair back, got up,

  16 Rex Stout

  growled at me, "If it costs me both eyes," and tramped

  out. From the hall he spoke to Stebbins in the office. It

  will give you some idea of how low I was when I say that

  I didn't even go to the hall to see that they took only

  what belonged to them. You might think that after

  being in the house five hours Purley would have

  stepped to the door to say good night, but no. I heard

  the front door close with a bang, so it was Purley.

  Cramer never banged doors.

  I slumped further down in my chair. At twenty min-

  utes to midnight I said aloud, "I could go for a walk," but

  apparently that didn't appeal to me. At 11:45 I arose,

  picked up the carbons of my statement, went to the

  office, and put them in a drawer of my desk. Looking

  around, I saw that they had left it in fairly decent shape.

  I went and brought the typewriter and put it where it

  belonged, tried the door of the safe, went to the hall to

  see that the front door was locked and put the chain bolt

  on, and proceeded to the kitchen. Fritz was in my

  breakfast chair, humped over with his forehead on the

  edge of the table.

  "You're pie-eyed," I said.

  His head came up. "No, Archie. I have tried, but no."

  "Go to bed."

  "No. He will be hungry."

  "He may never be hungry again. Pleasant dreams."

  I went to the hall, mounted one flight, turned left,

  tapped on the door, heard a sound that was half growl

  and half groan, opened the door, and entered. Wolfe,

  fully clothed, wearing a necktie, was in the big chair

  with a book.

  "They've gone," I said. "Last ones out, Cramer and

  Stebbins. Fritz is standing watch in the kitchen expect-

  ing a call for food. You'd better buzz him. Is there any

  alternative to going to bed?"

  "Can you sleep?" he demanded.

  "Probably. I always have."

  "I can't read." He put the book down. "Have you ever

  known me to show rancor?"

  The Homicide Trinity 17

  "I'd have to look in the dictionary. What is it ex-

  actly?"

  "Vehement ill will. Intense malignity."

  "No."

  "I have it now, and it is in the way. I can't think

  clearly. I intend to expose that wretch before the police

  do. I want Saul and Orrie and Fred here at eight o'clock

  in the morning. I have no idea what their errands will

  be, but I shall know by morning. After you reach them

  sleep if you can."

  "I don't have to sleep if there's something better to

  do."

  "Not tonight. This confounded rancor is a pimple on

  the brain. My mental processes haven't been so mud-

  dled in many years. I wouldn't have thought—"

  The doorbell was ringing. Now that the army of

  occupation was gone, that was to be expected, since

  Cramer had allowed no reporters or photographers to

  enter the house. I had considered disconnecting the bell

  for the night, and now, as I descended the stairs, I

  decided that I would. Fritz, at the door to the kitchen,

  looked relieved when he saw me. He had switched on

  the stoop light.

  If it was a reporter he was a veteran, and he had

  brought a helper along, or maybe a girl friend just for

  company. I was in no hurry getting to the door, sizing

  them up through the one-way panel. He was a six-

  footer in a well-cut and well-fitted dark gray overcoat, a

  light gray woolen scarf, and a gray homburg, with a

  long bony face with deep lines. She could have been his

  pretty little granddaughter, but her fur coat fastened

  clear up and her matching fur cloche covered every-

  thing but the little oval of her face. I removed the chain

  bolt and swung the door open and said, "Yes, sir?"

  He said, "I am Lament Otis. This is Mr. Nero Wolfe's

  house?"

  "Right."

  "I would like to see him. About my secretary, Miss

  Bertha Aaron. About information I have received from

  the police. This is Miss Ann Paige, my associate, a

  18 Rex Stout

  member of the bar. My coming at this hour is justified,

  I think, by the circumstances. I think Mr. Wolfe will

  agree."

  "I do too," I agreed. "But if you don't mind—" I

  crossed the sill to the stoop and sang out, "Who are you

  over there? Gillian? Murphy? Come here a minute!"

  A figure emerged from the shadows across the

  street. As he crossed the pavement I peered, and as

  he reached the curb on our side I spoke. "Oh, Wylie.

  Come on up."

  He stood at the foot of the seven steps. "For what?"

  he demanded.

  "May I ask," Lament Otis asked, "what this is for?"

  "You may. An inspector named Cramer is in danger

  of losing an eye and that would be a shame. I'll appre-

  ciate it if you'll answer a simple question: were you

  asked to come here by either Mr. Wolfe or me?"

  "Certainly not."

  "Was your coming entirely your own idea?"

  "Yes. But I don't—"

  "Excuse me. You heard him, Wylie? Include it in

  your report. It will save wear and tear on Cramer's

  nerves. Much obliged for—"

  "Who is he?" the dick demanded.

  I ignored it. Backing up, I invited them in, and when

  I shut the door I put the bolt on. Otis let me take his hat

  and coat, but Ann Paige kept hers. The house was

  cooling off for the night. In the office, sitting, she unfas-

  tened the coat but kept it over her shoulders. I went

  to the thermostat on the wall and pushed it up to 70, and

  then went to my desk and buzzed Wol
fe's room on the

  house phone. I should have gone up to get him, since he

  might balk at seeing company until he had dealt with

  the pimple on his brain, but I had had enough for one

  day of leaving visitors alone in the office, and one of

  these had a bum pump.

  Wolfe's growl came, "Yes?"

  "Mr. Lament Otis is here. With an associate, Miss

  Ann Paige, also a member of the bar. He thinks you will

  The Homicide Trinity 19

  agree that his coming at this hour is justified by the

  circumstances."

  Silence. Nothing for some five seconds, then the click

  of his hanging up. You feel foolish holding a dead re-

  ceiver to your ear, so I cradled it but didn't swivel to

  face the company. It was even money whether he was

  coming or not, and I put my eyes on my wrist watch. If

  he didn't come in five minutes I would go up after him.

  I turned and told Otis, "You won't mind a short wait."

  He nodded. "It was in this room?"

  "Yes. She was there." I pointed to a spot a few inches

  in front of Ann Paige's feet. Otis was in the red leather

  chair near the end of Wolfe's desk. "There was a rug but

  they took it to the laboratory. Of course they—I'm

  sorry, Miss Paige. I shouldn't have pointed." She had

  pushed her chair back and shut her eyes.

  She swallowed, and opened the eyes. They looked

  black in that light but could have been dark violet.

  "You're Archie Goodwin," she said.

  "Right."

  "You were—you found her."

  "Right."

  "Had she been . . . Was there any . . ."

  "She had been hit on the back of her head with a

  paperweight, a chunk of jade, and then strangled with a

  necktie that happened to be here on a desk. There was

  no sign of a struggle. The blow knocked her out, and

  probably she—"

  My voice had kept me from hearing Wolfe's steps on

  the stairs. He entered, stopped to tilt his head an eighth

  of an inch to Ann Paige, again to Otis, went to his chair

  behind his desk, sat, and aimed his eyes at Otis.

  "You are Mr. Lament Otis?"

  "I am."

  "I owe you an apology. A weak word; there should be

  a better one. A valued and trusted employee of yours

  has died by violence under my roof. She was valued and

  trusted?"

  "Yes."

  20 Rex Stout

  "I deeply regret it. If you came to reproach me,

  proceed."

  "I didn't come to reproach you." The lines of Otis's

  face were furrows in the better light. "I came to find out

  what happened. The police and the District Attorney's

  office have told me how she was killed, but not why she

  was here. I think they know but are reserving it. I think

  I have a right to know. Bertha Aaron had been in my

  confidence for years, and I believe I was in hers, and I

  knew nothing of any trouble she might be in that would

  lead her to come to you. Why was she here?"

  Wolfe, rubbing his nose with a fingertip, regarded

  him. "How old are you, Mr. Otis?"

  Ann Paige made a noise. The veteran lawyer, who

  had probably objected to ten thousand questions as

  irrelevant, said merely, "I'm seventy-five. Why?"

  "I do not intend to have another death in my office to

  apologize for, this time induced by me. Miss Aaron told

  Mr. Goodwin that the reason she did not go to you with

  her problem was that she feared the effect on you. Her

  words, Archie?"

  I supplied them." 'He has a bad heart and it might kill

  him.'"

  Otis snorted. "Bosh! My heart has given me a little

  trouble and I've had to slow down, but it would take

  more than a problem to kill me. I've been dealing with

  problems all my life, some pretty tough ones."

  "She exaggerated it," Ann Paige said. "I mean Miss

  Aaron. I mean she was so devoted to Mr. Otis that she

  had an exaggerated idea about his heart condition."

  "Why did you come here with him?" Wolfe de-

  manded.

  "Not because of his heart. Because I was at his apart-

  ment, working with him on a brief, when the news came

  about Bertha, and when he decided to see you he asked

  me to come with him. I do shorthand."

  "You heard Mr. Goodwin quote Miss Aaron. If I tell

  Mr. Otis what she was afraid to tell him, what her

  problem was, will you take responsibility for the effect

  on him?"

  The Homicide Trinity 21

  Otis exploded. "Damn it, I take the responsibility!

  It's my heart!"

  "I doubt," Ann Paige said, "if the effect of telling him

  would be as bad as the effect of wot telling him. I take no

  responsibility, but you have me as a witness that he

  insisted."

  "I not only insist," Otis said. "I assert my right to the

  information, since it must have concerned me."

  "Very well," Wolfe said. "Miss Aaron arrived here at

  twenty minutes past five this afternoon—now yester-

  day afternoon—uninvited and unexpected. She spoke

  for some twenty minutes with Mr. Goodwin and he

  went upstairs to confer with me. He was away half an

  hour. She was alone on this floor. You know what

  greeted him when he returned. He has given the police

  a statement which includes his conversation with her."

  His head turned. "Archie, give Mr. Otis a copy of the

  statement."

  I got it from my desk drawer and went and handed it

  to him. I had a notion to stand by, in case Bertha Aaron

  had been right about the effect it would have on him and

  he crumpled, but from up there I couldn't see his face,

  so I returned to my chair; but after half a century of

  practicing law his face knew how to behave. All that

  happened was that his jaw tightened a little, and once a

  muscle twitched at the side of his neck. He read it clear

  through twice, first fast and then taking his time. When

  he had finished he folded it neatly, fumbling a little, and

  was putting it in the breast pocket of his jacket.

  "No," Wolfe said emphatically. "I disclose the infor-

  mation at my discretion, but that's a copy of a state-

  ment given the police. You can't have it."

  Otis ignored him. He looked at his associate, and his

  neck muscle twitched again. "I shouldn't have brought

  you, Ann," he said. "You'll have to leave."

  Her eyes met his. "Believe me, Mr. Otis, you can

  trust me. On anything. Believe me. If it's that bad you

  shouldn't be alone with it."

  "I must be. I couldn't trust you on this. You'll have to

  leave."

  22 Rex Stout

  I stood up. "You can wait in the front room, Miss

  Paige. The wall and door are soundproofed."

  She didn't like it, but she came. I opened the door to

  the front room and turned the lights on, and then went

  and locked the door to the hall and put the key in my

  pocket. Back in the office as I was crossing to my desk

  Otis asked, "How good is the soundproofing?"

  "Good for anything under a
loud yell," I told him.

  He focused on Wolfe. "I am not surprised," he said,

  "that Miss Aaron thought it would kill me. I am sur-

  prised that it hasn't. You say the police have this state-

  ment?"

  "Yes. And this conversation is ended unless you re-

  turn that copy. Mr. Goodwin has no corroboration. It is

  a dangerous document for him to sign except under

  constraint of police authority."

  "But I need—"

  "Archie. Get it."

  I stood up. The heart was certainly getting tested.

  But as I took a step his hand went to his pocket, and

  when I reached him he had it out and handed it over.

  "That's better," Wolfe said. "I have extended my

  apology and regret, and we have given you all the

  information we have. I add this: first, that nothing in

  that statement will be revealed to anyone by Mr. Good-

  win or me without your consent; and second, that my

  self-esteem has been severely injured and it would give

  me great satisfaction to expose the murderer. Granted

  that that's a job for the police, for me it is my job. I

  would welcome your help, not as my client; I would

  accept no fee. I realize that at the moment you are

  under shock, that you are overwhelmed by the disaster

  in prospect for the firm you head; and when your mind

  clears you may be tempted by the possibility of mini-