Rex Stout - The Golden Spiders

“Why didn’t she tell you when she phoned you the lead on Heim?”

“I asked her, and she said she’d tell me later.”

“What’s her name?”

“I don’t know.”

“What number do you call her at?”

“I never call her. Birch was my contact. Now I wouldn’t know how to get her.”

“Phooey. We’ll come back to that if we have to stimulate you. Why did you kill Birch?”

“I didn’t kill him. I’m not a killer.”

“Who did?”

“I don’t know.”

I sat down. “As I told you, what I’m interested in is murder. With that cord we could squeeze your guts out, but that wouldn’t help us any; we just want facts, and facts we can check. If you didn’t kill Birch and don’t know who did, now tell me exactly how you’ve got it doped, and don’t—”

A buzzer sounded. I left the chair. It went two short, one long, and one short. I said sharply, “Muzzle ‘em.” Saul pressed a palm over Egan’s mouth, and Fred went to Mort. I stepped to the wall, to the button I had seen Mort use, and pushed it. Probably the one short, two long, and one short, wasn’t the right answer this time, but it was as good as any ad lib. Then I left the room and, with my gun ready, stood three paces off from the foot of the stairs. I heard a voice up above, faintly, then silence, then footsteps, at first barely audible but getting louder. Then Orrie’s voice came down. “Archie?”

“Yeah. Present.”

“I’m bringing company.”

“Fine. The more the merrier.”

The steps reached the head of the stairs and started down. I saw well-shined black shoes, then well-pressed dark blue trouser legs, then a jacket to match, and to top it all the face of Dennis Horan. The face was very expensive. Behind him was Orrie with his gun visible.

“Hello there,” I said.

He wasn’t speaking, so I switched to Orrie. “How did he come?”

“In a car alone. He drove in, and I took it easy, not interested. He glanced at me but didn’t say anything and went to a button on a pillar and pushed it. When a buzzer sounded I thought it was time to take a hand, so I showed my gun and told him to walk. Whoever pushed that buzzer may be—”

“That’s all right, I did. Have you felt him?”

“No.”

I went to Horan and patted him in the likely spots and some unlikely ones. “Okay. Go back up and tend to customers.” Orrie went, and I sang out, “Saul! Take the muzzle off and tie his ankles and come here.”

Horan started for the door of the room. I grabbed his arm and whirled him. He tried to pull away, and I gave him a good twist. “Don’t think I’m not serious,” I told him. “I know what number to call for an ambulance.”

“Yes, it is serious,” he agreed. His thin tenor needed oil. “Serious enough to finish you, Goodwin.”

“Maybe, but right now I’m it, and it has gone to my head, so watch out.” Saul came out. “This is Mr. Saul Panzer. Saul, this is Dennis Horan. We’ll invite him to the conference later, but first I want to make a phone call. Take him over by the far wall. Don’t disfigure him unless he insists on it. He’s not armed.”

I crossed to the room, entered, and shut the door. Fred was seated at the table massaging a finger, and the other two were as before. I pulled the little stand back to its place, picked up the phone and put it on the stand, seated myself, and dialed. This time it took more whirrs to get results, and then only a peevish mutter.

“Archie. I need advice.”

“I’m asleep.”

“Go splash your face with cold water.”

“Good heavens. What is it?”

“As I told you, all four of us are here in a garage. We have two subjects in a room in the basement. One of them is a biped named Mortimer Ervin, who has probably got nothing for us. The other one is called Lips Egan. On his driver’s license his first name is Lawrence. He’s the article that called on Saul at his hotel, and Saul and Orrie tailed him here. He’s a jewel. He had on him a notebook, now in my pocket, with about a thousand names and addresses of customers, and the last entry in it is Leopold Heim, so draw your own conclusions. We stimulated him some, and he claims that Matthew Birch was bossing the racket, but I haven’t bought that. I have bought that he saw Birch in that Cadillac, Tuesday afternoon, with a woman driving. I have not bought that he didn’t recognize her and couldn’t identify her. Nor that—”

“Proceed with him. Why disturb me in the middle of it?”

“Because we’ve been disturbed. Dennis Horan drove in upstairs and gave a code signal to the basement on a buzzer, and Orrie took him and brought him down. He’s out of earshot, but the other two are right here. I want your opinion on the kind and amount of stimulation to apply to a member of the bar. Of course he came to see Egan and he’s in on the racket, but I haven’t got it in writing.”

“Is Mr. Horan bruised?”

“We’ve hardly touched him.”

“Have you questioned him any?”

“No, I thought I’d call you.”

“This is very satisfactory. Hold the wire while I wake up.”

I did so. It was a full minute, maybe more, before his voice came again. “How are you arranged?”

“Fred and I are in the room in the basement with Ervin and Egan. Saul has Horan outside. Orrie’s upstairs to receive visitors.”

“Get Mr. Horan in and apologize to him.”

“Oh, have a heart.”

“I know, but he’s a lawyer, and we won’t give him cards to play. Has either Ervin or Egan shown a weapon?”

“Both. To Fred. They took his gun away, tied him in a chair, and were twisting his fingers around with pliers when I interrupted them.”

“Good. Then you have them on two counts, attempted extortion from Saul and assault with a firearm on Fred. Here are your instructions.”

He gave them to me. Some of it was too sketchy, and I asked him to elaborate. Finally I said I thought I had it. At the end he told me to hang on to Egan’s notebook, mention it to no one, and put it in the safe as soon as I got home. I hung up, went and opened the door, and called to Saul to bring Horan in.

Horan’s face was not so expressive. Apparently he had decided on a line, and it called for a deadpan. He took a chair like a lamb, showing no interest whatever in either Ervin or Egan beyond glances at the prostrate figures as he entered.

I addressed him. “If you’ll excuse me, Mr. Horan, I have to say something to these two men. You listening, Ervin?”

“No.”

“Suit yourself. You committed felonious assault on Fred Durkin with a loaded gun, and you committed battery on him with a pair of pliers. Are you listening, Egan?”

“I hear you.”

“You also committed assault — with the gun I shot out of your hand. In addition, you attempted extortion from Saul Panzer, another felony. My own inclination would be to phone the cops to come and get you two birds, but I work for Nero Wolfe, and it’s just possible he’ll feel differently about it. He wants to ask you some questions, and I’m taking you both down to his place. If you prefer going to the station, say so, but that’s your only alternative. If you try making a break you’ll be surprised, or maybe you won’t.”

I turned to the lawyer. “As for you, Mr. Horan, I tender our sincere apologies. We were under quite a strain, having this run-in with these two characters, and Orrie Cather was a little too eager, and so was I. I just talked to Mr. Wolfe on the phone, and he said to give you his regrets for the way his employees treated you. I guess I should apologize for another little thing too — when I introduced Saul Panzer to you out there I forgot he had called at your office today under the name of Leopold Heim. That must have been confusing. That’s all, unless you want to say something. Go on about your business, and I hope you won’t hold this against us — no, wait a minute, I just got an idea.”