Rex Stout - The League of Frightened Men

She was looking at me, with the idea of ritzing me out put aside for the moment. She said, “I don’t know what you’re driving at. I saw him dead. I don’t know what you mean.”

“Neither do I. That’s what I’m here to find out. I’m trying to make you understand that I’m not annoying you just for curiosity, I’m here on business, and it may turn out to be your business as well as mine. I’m interested in seeing that Paul Chapin gets no more than is coming to him. Right now I don’t suppose you’re interested in anything. You’ve had a shock that would lay most women flat. Well, you’re not flat, and you might as well talk to me as sit and try not to think about it. I’d like to sit here and ask you a few things. If you look like you are going to faint I’ll call the family and get up and go.”

She unclasped her hands. She said, “I don’t faint. You may sit down.”

“Okay.” I used the chair Alice had left. “Now tell me how it happened. The shooting. Who was here?”

“My husband and I, and the cook and the maid. One of the maids was out.”

“No one else? What about the woman you called Alice?”

“That is my oldest friend. She came to... just a little while ago. There was no one else here.”

“And?”

“I was in my room dressing. We were dining out, my daughter was out somewhere. My husband came to my room for a cigarette; he always... he never remembered to have any, and the door between our rooms is always open. The maid came and said Paul Chapin was there. My husband left to go to the foyer to see him, but he didn’t go direct; he went back through his room and his study. I mention that because I stood and listened. The last time Paul had come my husband had told the maid to keep him in the foyer, and before he went there he had gone to his study and got a revolver out of the drawer. I had thought it was childish. This time I listened to see if he did it again, and he did, I heard the drawer opening. Then he called to me, called my name, and I answered what is it, and he called back, nothing, never mind, he would tell me after he had speeded his guest. That was the last... those were his last words I heard. I heard him walking through the apartment — I listened, I suppose, because I was wondering what Paul could want. Then I heard noises — not loud, the foyer is so far away from my room, and then shots. I ran. The maid came out of the dining-room and followed me. We ran to the foyer. It was dark, and the light in the drawing-room was dim and we couldn’t see anything. I heard a noise, someone falling, and Paul’s voice saying my name. I turned on the light switch, and Paul was there on his knee trying to get up. He said my name again, and said he was trying to hop to the switch. Then I saw Lorrie, on the floor at the end of the table. I ran to him, and when I saw him I called to the maid to go for Dr. Foster, who lives a floor below us. I don’t know what Paul did then, I didn’t pay attention to him, the first I knew some men came—”

“All right, hold it.”

She stopped. I looked at her a minute, getting it. She had clasped her hands again and was doing some extra breathing, but not obtrusively. I quit worrying about her. I took out a pad and pencil, and said, “This thing, the way you tell it, needs a lot of fixing. The worst item, of course, is the light being out. That’s plain silly.—Now wait a minute, I’m just talking about what Nero Wolfe calls a feeling for phenomena, I’m trying to enjoy one. Let’s go back to the beginning. On his way to see Paul Chapin, your husband called to you from the study, and then said never mind. Have you any idea what he was going to say?”

“No, how could I—”

“Okay. The way you told it, he called to you after he opened the drawer. Was that the way it was?”

She nodded. “I’m sure it was after I heard the drawer open. I was listening.”

“Yeah. Then you heard him walking to the foyer, and then you heard noises. What kind of noises?”

“I don’t know. Just noises, movements. It is far away, and doors were closed. The noises were faint.”

“Voices?”

“No. I didn’t hear any.”

“Did you hear your husband closing the foyer door after he got there?”

“No. I wouldn’t hear that unless it banged.”

“Then we’ll try this. Since you were listening to his footsteps, even if you couldn’t hear them any more after he got into the drawing-room, there was a moment when you figured that he had reached the foyer. You know what I mean, the feeling that he was there. When I say Now, that will mean that he has just reached the foyer, and you begin feeling the time, the passing of time. Feel it as near the same as you can, and when it’s time for the first shot to go off, you say Now .—Get it? Now .”

I looked at the second hand of my watch; it went crawling up from the 30. She said, “ Now .”

I stared at her. “My God, that was only six seconds.”

She nodded. “It was as short as that, I’m sure it was.”

“In that case... all right. Then you ran to the foyer, and there was no light there. Of course you couldn’t be wrong about that.”

“No. The light was off.”

“And you switched it on and saw Chapin kneeling, getting up. Did he have a gun in his hand?”

“No. He had his coat and gloves on. I didn’t see a gun... anywhere.”

“Did Inspector Cramer tell you about the gun?”

She nodded. “It was my husband’s. He shot... it had been fired four times. They found it on the floor.”

“Cramer showed it to you.”

“Yes.”

“And it’s gone from the drawer in the study.”

“Of course.”

“When you turned on the light Chapin was saying something.”

“He was saying my name. After the light was on he said — I can tell you exactly what he said. Anne, a cripple in the dark, my dear Anne, I was trying to hop to the switch . He had fallen.”

“Yeah. Naturally.” I finished scratching on the pad, and looked up at her. She was sitting tight. I said, “Now to go back again. Were you at home all afternoon?”

“No. I was at a gallery looking at prints, and then at a tea. I got home around six.”

“Was your husband here when you got here?”

“Yes, he comes early... on Saturday. He was in his study with Ferdinand Bowen. I went in to say hello. We always... said hello, no matter who was here.”

“So Mr. Bowen was here. Do you know what for?”

“No. That is... no.”

“Now come, Mrs. Burton. You’ve decided to put up with this and it’s pretty swell of you, so come ahead. What was Bowen here for?”

“He was asking a favor. That’s all I know.”

“A financial favor?”

“I suppose so, yes.”

“Did he get it?”

“No. But this has no connection... no more of this.”

“Okay. When did Bowen leave?”

“Soon after I arrived, I should say a quarter past six. Perhaps twenty after; it was about ten minutes before Dora came, and she was punctual at six-thirty.”

“You don’t say so.” I looked at her. “You mean Dora Chapin.”

“Yes.”

“She came to do your hair.”

“Yes.”

“I’ll be damned.—Excuse me. Nero Wolfe doesn’t permit me to swear in front of ladies. And Dora Chapin got here at six-thirty. Well. When did she leave?”

“It always takes her three-quarters of an hour, so she left at a quarter past seven.” She paused to calculate. “Yes, that would be right. A few minutes later, perhaps. I figured that I had fifteen minutes to finish dressing.”

“So Dora Chapin left here at seven-twenty and Paul Chapin arrived at half past. That’s interesting; they almost collided. Who else was here after six o’clock?”