Homicide Trinity Read online

  minutes, and she never mentioned the card after the

  first half a minute, when she merely said it was crazy

  and asked me where I got it. She told me I was hand-

  some twice, she smiled at me six times, she said she had

  never heard of Bertha Aaron, and she asked if you

  would work for her. She may phone for an appointment.

  Do you want it verbatim now?"

  "Later will do. The men are there?"

  "Yes. I spoke with Saul when I left. That's wasted.

  She's not a fool, anything but. Of course it was a blow to

  learn that that meeting in the lunchroom is known, but

  she won't panic. Also of course, she doesn't know how

  we got onto it. She may not have suspected that there

  was any connection between that meeting and the mur-

  der of Bertha Aaron. It's even possible she doesn't

  suspect it now, though that's doubtful. If and when she

  does she will also suspect that the man she was with in

  the lunchroom killed Bertha Aaron, and that will be

  hard to live with, but even then she won't panic. She is

  a very tough article and she is still after thirty million

  bucks. Looking at her as she smiled at me and told me I

  was handsome, which may have been her honest opin-

  ion in spite of my flat nose, you would never have

  guessed that I had just sent her a card announcing that

  her pet secret had been spilled. She's a gem. If I had

  thirty million I'd be glad to buy her a lunch. What's

  biting Gregory Jett?"

  "I don't know. We shall see." He pushed the door

  open and passed through and I followed.

  As Wolfe detoured around the red leather chair Jett

  spoke. "I said my business was urgent. You're rather

  cheeky, aren't you?"

  "Moderately so." Wolfe got his mass adjusted in his

  The Homicide Trinity 39

  seat and swiveled to face him. "If there is pressure, sir,

  it is on you, not on me. Am I concerned?"

  "You are involved." The deep-set dreamy eyes came

  to me. "Is your name Goodwin? Archie Goodwin?"

  I said yes.

  "Last night you gave a statement to the police about

  your conversation with Bertha Aaron, and you gave a

  copy of it to Lamont Otis, the senior member of my

  firm."

  "Did I?" I was polite. "I only work here. I only do

  what Mr. Wolfe tells me to. Ask him."

  "I'm not asking, I'm telling." He returned to Wolfe. "I

  want to know what is in that statement. Mr. Otis is an

  old man and his heart is weak. He was under shock

  when he came here, from the tragic news of the death of

  his secretary, who was murdered here in your office, in

  circumstances which as far as I know them were cer-

  tainly no credit to you or Goodwin. It must have been

  obvious that he was under shock, and it was certainly

  obvious that he is an old man. To show him that state-

  ment was irresponsible and reprehensible. As his asso-

  ciate, his partner, I want to know what is in it."

  Wolfe had leaned back and lowered his chin. "Well.

  When cheek meets cheek. You are manifestly indomi-

  table and I must buckle my breastplate. I choose to

  deny that there is any such statement. Then?"

  "Poppycock. I know there is."

  "Your evidence?" Wolfe wiggled a finger. "Mr. Jett.

  This is fatuous. Someone has told you the statement

  exists or you would be an idiot to come and bark at me.

  Who told you, and when?"

  "Someone who—in whom I have the utmost confi-

  dence."

  "Mr. Otis himself?"

  "No."

  "Her name?"

  Jett set his teeth on his lower lip. After chewing on it

  a little he shifted to the upper lip. He had nice white

  teeth.

  "You must be under shock too," Wolfe said, "to sup-

  40 Rex Stout

  pose you could come with that demand without disclos-

  ing the source of your information. Is her name Ann

  Paige?"

  "I will tell you that only in confidence."

  "Then I don't want it. I will take it as private infor-

  mation entrusted to my discretion, but not in confi-

  dence. I am still denying that such a statement exists."

  "Damn you!" Jett hit the arm of his chair. "She was

  here with him! She saw Goodwin hand it to him! She

  saw him read it!"

  Wolfe nodded. "That's better. When did Miss Paige

  tell you about it? This morning?"

  "No. Last night. She phoned me."

  "At what hour?"

  "Around midnight. A little after."

  "Had she left here with Mr. Otis?"

  "You know damn well she hadn't. She had climbed

  out a window."

  "And phoned you at once." Wolfe straightened up. "If

  you are to trust my discretion you must give it ground.

  I may then tell you what the statement contains, or I

  may not. I reject the reason you have given, or implied,

  for your concern—solicitude for Mr. Otis. Your expla-

  nation must account not only for your concern but also

  for Miss Paige's flight through a window. You—"

  "It wasn't a flight! Goodwin had locked the door!"

  "He would have opened it on request. You said your

  business is urgent. How and to whom? You are trying

  my patience. With your trained legal mind, you know it

  is futile to feed me inanities."

  Jett looked at me. I set my jaw and firmed my lips to

  show him that I didn't care for inanities either. He went

  back to Wolfe.

  "Very well," he said. "I'll trust your discretion, since

  there is no alternative. When Otis told Miss Paige she

  had to leave, she suspected that Miss Aaron had told

  Goodwin something about me. She thought—"

  "Why about you? There had been no hint of it."

  "Because he said to her, 'I couldn't trust you on this.'

  She thought he knew that she couldn't be trusted in a

  The Homicide Trinity 41

  matter that concerned me. That is true—I hope it is

  true. Miss Paige and I are engaged to marry. It has not

  been announced, but our mutual interest is probably no

  secret to our associates, since we have made no effort to

  conceal it. Added to that was the fact that she knew

  that Miss Aaron might have had knowledge, or at least

  suspicion, of a certain—uh—episode in which I had

  been involved. An episode of which Mr. Otis would have

  violently disapproved. You said my explanation must

  account both for my concern and for Miss Paige's leav-

  ing through a window. It does."

  "What was the episode?"

  Jett shook his head. "I wouldn't tell you that even in

  confidence."

  "What was its nature?"

  "It was a personal matter."

  "Did it bear on the interests of your firm or your

  partners?"

  "No. It was strictly personal."

  "Did it touch your professional reputation or integ-

  rity?"

  "It did not."

  "Was a woman involved?"

  "Yes."

  "Her name?"

  Jett shook his head. "I'm not a cad, Mr. Wolfe."

  "Was it Mrs. Mort
on Sorell?"

  Jett's mouth opened, and for three breaths his jaw

  muscles weren't functioning. Then he spoke. "So that

  was it. Miss Paige was right. I want—I demand to see

  that statement."

  "Not yet, sir. Later, perhaps—or not. Do you main-

  tain that the episode involving Mrs. Sorell had no rela-

  tion to your firm's interests or your professional

  integrity?"

  "I do. It was purely personal, and it was brief."

  "When did it occur?"

  "About a year ago."

  "When did you last see her?"

  42 Rex Stout

  "About a month ago, at a party. I didn't speak with

  her."

  "When were you last with her tete-a-tete?"

  "I haven't been since—not for nearly a year."

  "But you are still seriously perturbed at the chance

  that Mr. Otis has learned of the episode?"

  "Certainly. Mr. Sorell is our client, and his wife is our

  opponent in a very important matter. Mr. Otis might

  suspect that the episode is—was not merely an episode.

  He has not told me of the statement you showed him,

  and I can't approach him about it because he has or-

  dered Miss Paige not to mention it to anyone, and she

  didn't tell him she had already told me. I want to see it.

  I have a right to see it!"

  "Don't start barking again." Wolfe rested his elbows

  on the chair arms and put his fingers together. "I'll tell

  you this: there is nothing in the statement, either ex-

  plicit or allusive, about the episode you have described.

  That should relieve your mind. Beyond that—"

  The doorbell rang.

  Chapter 5

  I was wrong about them. As soon as I got a look at

  them through the one-way panel I guessed who

  they were, but I had the labels mixed. My guess

  was that the big broad-shouldered one in a dark blue

  chesterfield tailored to give him a waist, and a homburg

  to match, was Edey, fifty-five, and the compact little

  guy in a brown ulster with a belt was Heydecker,

  forty-seven, but when I opened the door and the ches-

  terfield said they wanted to see Nero Wolfe, and I

  asked for names, he said, "This gentleman is Frank

  Edey and I am Miles Heydecker. We are—"

  "I know who you are. Step in."

  The Homicide Trinity 43

  Since age has priority I helped Edey off with his

  ulster, putting it on a hanger, and let Heydecker man-

  age his chesterfield, and then took them to the front

  room and invited them to sit. If I opened the connecting

  door to the office Jett's voice could be heard and there

  was no point in his trusting Wolfe's discretion if he

  couldn't trust mine, so I went around through the hall,

  crossed to my desk, wrote "Edey and Heydecker" on

  my memo pad, tore the sheet off, and handed it to

  Wolfe. He glanced at it and looked at Jett.

  "We're at an impasse. You refuse to answer further

  questions unless I tell you the contents of the state-

  ment, and I won't do that. Mr. Edey and Mr. Heydecker

  are here. Will you stay or go?"

  "Edey?" Jett stood up. "Heydecker? Here?"

  "Yes, sir. Uninvited and unexpected. You may leave

  unseen if you wish."

  Evidently he didn't wish anything except to see the

  statement. He didn't want to go and he didn't want to

  stay. When it became apparent that he wasn't going to

  decide, Wolfe decided for him by giving me a nod, and I

  went and opened the connecting door and told the new-

  comers to come in. Then I stepped aside and looked on,

  at their surprise at seeing Jett, their manners as they

  introduced themselves to Wolfe, the way they handled

  their eyes. I had never completely squelched the idea

  that when you are in a room with three men and you

  know that one of them committed a murder, especially

  when he committed it in that room only eighteen hours

  ago, it will show if you watch close enough. I knew from

  experience that the idea wasn't worth a damn, that if

  you did see something that seemed to point you were

  probably wrong, but I still had it and still have it. I was

  so busy with it that I didn't go to my desk and sit until

  Jett was back in the red leather chair and the newcom-

  ers were on two of the yellow ones, facing Wolfe, and

  Heydecker, the big broad-shouldered man, was speak-

  ing.

  His eyes were at Jett. "We came," he said, "for infor-

  mation, and I suppose you did too, Greg. Unless you got

  more at the DA's office than we did."

  44 Rex Stout

  "I got damn little," Jett said. "I didn't even see

  Howie, my old schoolmate. They didn't answer ques-

  tions, they asked them. A lot of them I didn't answer

  and they shouldn't have been asked—about our affairs

  and our clients. Naturally I answered the relevant

  ones, the routine stuff about my relations with Bertha

  Aaron and my whereabouts and movements yesterday

  afternoon. Not only mine, but others'. Particularly if

  anyone had spoken at length with Bertha, and if anyone

  had left the office with her or soon after her. Obviously

  they think she was killed by someone connected with

  the firm, but they don't say why—at least not to me."

  "Nor me," Edey said. He was the compact under-

  sized one and his thin tenor fitted him fine.

  "Nor me," Heydecker said. "What has Wolfe told

  you?"

  "Not much. I haven't been here long." Jett looked at

  Wolfe.

  Wolfe obliged. He cleared his throat. "I presume that

  you gentlemen have come with the same purpose as Mr.

  Jett. He asks for any information that will give light,

  with emphasis on the reason for Miss Aaron's coming to

  see me. He assumes—"

  Heydecker cut in. "That's it. What was she here for?"

  "If you please. He assumes from the circumstances

  that she was killed because she was here, to prevent a

  revelation she meant to make, and that is plausible. But

  surely the police and the District Attorney haven't

  withheld all of the details from you. Haven't they told

  you that she didn't see me?"

  "No," Edey said. "They haven't told me."

  "Nor me," Heydecker said.

  "Then I tell you. She came without appointment. Mr.

  Goodwin admitted her. She asked to see me on a confi-

  dential matter. I was engaged elsewhere, upstairs, and

  Mr. Goodwin came to tell me she was here. We had a

  matter under consideration and discussed it at some

  length, and when we came down her dead body was

  here." He pointed at Heydecker's feet. "There. So she

  The Homicide Trinity 45

  couldn't tell me what she came for, since I never saw

  her alive."

  "Then I don't get it," Edey declared. The brilliant

  idea man was using his brain. "If she didn't tell you, you

  couldn't tell the police or the District Attorney. But if

  they don't know what she came to see you about, why

  do they think she was killed by someone in our office?

  It's
conceivable that they got that information from

  someone else, but so soon? They started in on me at

  seven o'clock this morning. And I conclude from their

  questions that they don't merely think it, they think

  they know it."

  "They do, unquestionably," Heydecker agreed. "Mr.

  Goodwin. You admitted her. She was alone?" That was

  the brilliant trial lawyer.

  "Yes." Since we weren't before the bench I omitted

  the "sir."

  "You saw no one else around? On the sidewalk?"

  "No. Of course it was dark. It was twenty minutes

  past five. On January fifth the sun set at 4:46." By gum,

  he wasn't going to trap me.

  "You conducted her to this room?"

  "Yes."

  "Leaving the outer door open perhaps?"

  "No."

  "Are you certain of that?"

  "Yes. If I have one habit that's totally automatic, it's

  closing that door and making sure it's locked."

  "Automatic habits are dangerous things, Mr. Good-

  win. Sometimes they fail you. When you brought her to

  this room did you sit?"

  "Yes."

  "Where?"

  "Where I am now."

  "Where did she sit?"