Rex Stout - Prisoner's Base

Helmar lowered the paper. “That is a joint demand,” he declared aggressively.

“May I say—” Nat Parker began, but Wolfe showed him a palm.

“If you please, Mr. Helmar. There is no question of your right to interview Mrs. Jaffee privately, nor is there any question of Mr. Parker’s right, and mine, to advise her not to talk with you people except in our presence. The only question is how she feels about it herself. Mrs. Jaffee, do — no. You ask her.”

Helmar turned left. He was in the red leather chair, and the other four of the Softdown contingent were on chairs forming an arc running from him in the general direction of my desk. Sarah Jaffee was on the couch. Nearby was Eric Hagh, and beyond him were the two lawyers, Irby and Parker. Andy Fomos was off by himself, over by the bookshelves.

Helmar addressed Mrs. Jaffee. “You wouldn’t talk to me on the telephone, Sarah. You have known me all your life. I held you in my arms when you were a baby. Have you ever known me to do anything unfair or dishonest or wicked?”

“Yes,” Sarah said. She used more breath than she intended and it caused a sort of explosion, but it was certainly audible.

It rocked Helmar. His eyes popped. “What? Did you say yes?”

“Yes, I did. You did all of those things to Pris. You didn’t love her or understand her, and you were bad for her.” She lifted her chin a little. “I want to say one thing. I haven’t been coerced to do this by Mr. Wolfe or Mr. Parker. I am doing it because I want to, and it was Mr. Archie Goodwin who made me want to. It wouldn’t do the slightest good for you to talk with me, Mr. Helmar, or any of the others, so forget it.”

“But, Sarah, you don’t understand!”

“I think I do. And what if I don’t?”

“Skip it, Perry,” Viola Duday snapped. “She’s hopeless.”

“Does anyone else,” Wolfe inquired, “have a statement to read?”

Parker put in, “I advise Mr. Helmar not to leave copies of his lying around. It is clearly libelous, as he must know.”

Wolfe nodded. “He’s upset and not strictly accountable.” His eyes moved left to right and back again. “I could reply to Mr. Helmar’s indictment of me, but it would take time, and we should get on. First I’ll make one thing clear — my status in this business. I have been engaged to investigate the murder of Priscilla Eads, and that is my sole interest.”

“By Sarah Jaffee?” Helmar demanded.

“No. My client’s identity is not your concern. In my opinion it is entirely proper for Mrs. Jaffee, as a stockholder in the corporation, to bring the action contemplated, but that will be determined not by my opinion or yours, but by a court. It is certainly proper to submit the matter to a court for decision, and that is what will be done tomorrow morning unless developments here this evening make it unnecessary.”

“What developments would make it unnecessary?” That was Oliver Pitkin. Evidently his cold was no better, since he was still sniffling.

“Any of several. For instance, my discovery of the identity of the murderer.”

Wolfe’s eyes moved deliberately, and other eyes met them. He prolonged it, and no one moved or spoke. “Though I confess,” he said, “that I expect no such happy expedition. Another possible development would be for me to conclude, after inquiry, that none of you five people was involved in the murder. Since Mrs. Jaffee’s action is grounded on the possibility that one or more of you was involved, and is intended solely to prevent a culprit from profiting from a crime, such a conclusion would make the action needless. The purpose of this meeting is that inquiry by me.”

“The purpose of this meeting,” Helmar contradicted, “is an explanation by you and Counselor Parker of this whole outrageous proceeding!”

Wolfe’s gaze pinned him. “Do you really mean that?”

“I certainly do!”

“Then get out.” He waved a hand. “Out! I’ve had enough of you!”

They didn’t move, except their heads, to exchange looks.

“Before you go,” Wolfe said, “here’s a piece of information for you. I am told that you are now claiming — specifically you, Mr. Helmar — that the document signed by Priscilla Eads, then Priscilla Hagh, giving her husband a half-interest in her property, is spurious. That is why Mr. Irby is here, and why his client, Mr. Hagh, has come to New York.” He focused on Helmar. “If you accuse me of deception, sir, I accuse you of an impudent he in an attempt to defraud. In this room Monday evening Miss Eads told Mr. Goodwin and me categorically that she had signed that document, and of course you knew—”

“Bravo!” Eric Hagh was out of his chair and moving, pulling an envelope from his pocket. “There is honesty for you, gentlemen!” He waved the envelope. “Here it is! Here it is!”

He may not, judging from his looks, have inherited the South American tendency to exuberance, but he sure had caught it, and there and then someone caught it from him. Andy Fomos bounced up, dashed across, confronted the Softdown team, and boomed, “And before you go you will listen to me! She was going to make my wife a director! And now they are both dead! What can you do, what can you do to make it fair and honest? What you can do is make me a director and pay me what she was going to pay my wife!” He shook a fist, and I got to my feet, but he gave up the fist to point a finger at Viola Duday. “And what were you doing, coming last week to have a secret talk with my wife!” He swung the finger to aim it at Brucker. “And what were you doing, the same thing, coming to talk with her? To ask her to be a director? Huh? Now you can ask me to be a director! There is no—”

“Archie!” Wolfe called sharply. I was already advancing. Others besides Hagh and Fomos were out of their chairs, making a jumble but no tumult.

I got Fomos back to his corner without serious resistance, and, returning, addressed the Softdown group. “Are you folks leaving or not? If you are, this way out. If not, you must be thirsty, and what will it be?”

“Bourbon and water for me,” Viola Duday said promptly.

Wolfe rang for Fritz, and he came in to help, and Eric Hagh offered his services. There was some moving around during the process of serving, and when it was over I noticed that Hagh had homesteaded on the couch with Sarah. Andy Fomos was the only customer for the wine. Wolfe, of course, had beer. I had myself a tall glass of water — not that I don’t like something with more authority in off hours, but that hour was far from off. What I wasn’t getting in my notebook I was filing in my bean for future reference, and with that bunch I had no faculties to spare.

The idea of a Softdown walkout got no further mention. When all had been refreshed, Helmar stuck his jaw out and began, “On the question of the authenticity of that—”

Wolfe cut him off. “No, sir,” he said emphatically. “Your notion of the purpose of this meeting, and Mr. Hagh’s notion, and Mr. Fomos’s notion, are all different and all wrong. The purpose is an inquiry by me to try to learn whether any or all of you are implicated in the murder of Priscilla Eads. If I decide that you are not, the action by Mrs. Jaffee will be forgone. If I decide that you are or probably are, the action will be pursued.”

“This is fantastic,” Helmar declared. “We submit to trial on a charge of murder, before you as judge and jury?”

“No, not as you put it. I may not apply sanctions; I have no electric chair in readiness. But if Mrs. Jaffee asks for an injunction, and you dispute it, and the court hears arguments, the degree of probability that one or more of you is implicated in murder will be a major point at issue and will be debated in court. That would be a disagreeable experience for you, and you may be able to prevent it by debating it here, privately, this evening. Do you want to try? If you do, we’d better start. It’s ten o’clock.”