Rex Stout: Black Orchids

“Good heavens,” Hewitt muttered. “My stick. Good heavens, do you realize — my stick!”

“Exactly,” Wolfe agreed. “Don’t talk so loud. I do realize. Whoever rigged up that affair made a loop at the end of the string that could be passed under the door. It may have been an afterthought, ad libbing, suggested by the sight of your cane where you had left it, to pass the loop over the cane and leave it lying there for the first passer-by to pick up. If that hadn’t happened before half past four I imagine he would have attended to it himself. I do realize what a story that will be for the newspapers. I doubt if it would lead to any official suspicion that you rigged it up yourself, but the public mind — at least some of it — is even less subtle than Mr. Crammer’s.”

“Good heavens,” Hewitt moaned. “This...” He clenched his fingers, and released them, and clenched them again. “This is horrible.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say horrible. Disagreeable.”

“Horrible. For me. For a Hewitt. Horrible!”

“Perhaps for a Hewitt,” Wolfe conceded. “Then all the more reason why this may interest you. I want those orchid plants. All three of them.”

That changed things entirely. The change, showing itself on Hewitt’s face, took perhaps two seconds all told. Up to then nothing had been threatened but his peace of mind or maybe his reputation, at most his life and liberty. But this was something else again; this threatened his property. It put stone in his heart and steel in his jaw. He eyed Wolfe with a shrewd and stubborn stare.

“I see,” he hissed. “So that’s it. To put it plainly, blackmail. Blackmail! No! I won’t do it!”

Wolfe sighed. “You won’t?”

“No!”

“Very well. Then I won’t get the orchids, but I’ll be saved a lot of trouble. Archie, get Mr. Cramer in here. Tell him it’s urgent. I’ll not perch on this confounded milking stool any longer than I have to.”

I arose and started for the door, not hastily. I knew it was in the bag because Hewitt hadn’t raised his voice. It was only a war of nerves.

“Blackmail,” Hewitt said through his teeth.

“Go on, Archie,” Wolfe said. I put my hand on the knob.

“Wait a minute,” Hewitt said. I turned my head but kept my hand on the knob.

“One of them,” Hewitt said. “Select any one.”

I went back and sat down.

Wolfe sighed and shook his head. “All three. I won’t haggle. I’m going to have to work for them. You may call it blackmail to relieve your feelings, but what about me? It’s possible that this evidence I’m withholding from Mr. Cramer is vital evidence, and I don’t intend to shield a murderer. If I withhold it I’ll have to find the murderer myself, and enough evidence to convict him without this. And if I fail I’ll have to tell Mr. Cramer all about it, which would be deplorable, and shall have to return the plants to you, which would be unthinkable. So I shan’t fail.”

“Two of them,” Hewitt said. “Two plants. To be delivered to you when you have satisfactorily performed your part of the bargain.” He may have inherited it, but he certainly knew how to hang onto it.

“No,” Wolfe said. “All three, and I take them home with me now. You can trust me, I can’t trust you, because if it turns out that you killed the man yourself and I get you for it, I’d never get them.”

“Do you—” Hewitt was goggle-eyed. “You have the effrontery — you dare to suggest—”

“Not at all. I suggest nothing. I consider contingencies, and I’d be a fool if I didn’t.” Wolfe put a hand on the edge of the table for leverage and lifted himself from the milking stool. “I’m going home where there is a chair to sit on, and go to work. If you’ll please take Mr. Goodwin upstairs and give him the plants so I can take them with me...”

Of course I had a card up my sleeve. Wolfe had taken my dagger away and done the twisting himself in Hewitt’s ribs instead of his own, but I still had a card.

I had a chance to make arrangements for playing it while Wolfe went around, after we returned to the other room, inviting people to lunch. That was actually what he did. Anyhow he invited W. G. Dill and Fred Updegraff; I heard that much. Apparently he intended to spend the evening thinking it out, and have them all to lunch the next day to announce the result. Hewitt declined my help on the orchid portage from upstairs. It seemed as if he didn’t like me. When Wolfe had finished the inviting he calmly opened, without knocking, the door into the room where Cramer had gone with Anne, and disappeared within.

I approached Purley Stebbins, stationed on a chair near the door to the anteroom, and grinned at him reassuringly. He was always upset in the presence of either Wolfe or me, and the two of us together absolutely gave him the fidgets. He gave me a glancing eye and let out a growl.

“Look, Purley,” I said cordially, “here’s one for the notebook. That lady over there.” She was sitting by the far wall with her coat still on and the blue leather bag under her arm. “She’s a phony. She’s really a Chinese spy. So am I. We were sent to do this job by Hoo Flung Dung. If you don’t believe it watch us talk code.”

“Go to hell,” Purley suggested.

“Yeah? You watch.”

I ambled across the room and stood right in front of her so Purley couldn’t see her face.

“Hello, dear old friend,” I said not too loud.

“You’ve got a nerve,” she said. “Beat it.”

“Nerve? Me?”

“Beat it. ‘Dear old friend!’ I never saw you before.”

“Aha!” I smiled down at her. “Not a chance in the world. If I tell them I saw you in that corridor at half past three waiting for someone, they’ll believe me, don’t think they won’t, and you’ll have to start all over again about opening that door at half past four because you got there by mistake and were looking for a way out. Think fast and don’t tell me to beat it again or we part forever. And control your face and keep your voice down.”

Her fingers were twisting under a fold of the coat. “What do you want?”

“I want to get to know you better. I’ll be leaving here in a minute to drive my boss home, but I’ll be back before long for a little talk with the Inspector. Then I’ll go to the news movie in Grand Central and you’ll be there in the back row. Won’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You’re sure.”

“Yes.”

“You’d better be. If you are, it’s all right that you never saw me before. If you put over your song and dance there may be a tail on you when you leave. Don’t try to shake him. We’ll take care of that when we leave the movie. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“Righto. Stick to me and you’ll wear black orchids.”

I started to go back to Purley to kid him out of any suspicions that might be pecking at the shell, but a door opened and Wolfe emerged, and Cramer stood on the sill and spoke:

“Purley! Goodwin’s taking Wolfe home and will be back in half an hour.”

“Yeah,” Purley said disrespectfully.

“Come, Archie,” Wolfe said.

We waited in the anteroom, and in a few minutes here came Lewis Hewitt, followed by a guard balancing the glass case on his upper limbs. The transfer was made to me without ceremony, after Wolfe peered through the glass for a good gloating look, and off we went. When we got to where I had parked the car Wolfe got in the back, always a major operation, and I deposited the case on the floor at his feet. Ten minutes later we arrived at the old house on West 35th Street near the river, and the sigh he heaved as he deposited his weight and volume in a chair that had been made for them was a record for both depth and duration.