Рекс Стаут - Gambit

She stopped, sending her eyes past me, and I turned. There had been a sound of a gong off somewhere, and through the arch I caught a glimpse of a maid’s uniform passing in the foyer. In a moment a man’s voice came, and in another moment the man appeared. He halted to dart a glance around, then came on, and Mrs. Blount took three steps to meet him. As he took her hand he said something so low I didn’t catch it, and she said, “Mr. Wolfe didn’t come, but Mr. Goodwin is here and I’ve been explaining to him.” I hadn’t sat down again after rising to shake with Morton Farrow, and so was on my feet when the newcomer, nodding to Sally and Farrow, faced me, extended a hand, and said, “I’m Dan Kalmus. In a case one of my partners tried a couple of years ago he had to cross-examine you and he hasn’t forgotten it.”

I might or might not have known him from the picture the Gazette had had. In the flesh he didn’t have much flesh, just bones and skin — felt on his hand and seen on his jaw and cheeks. With no wrinkles or creases and his full share of hair with no gray, he didn’t look the fifty-one years Sally had given him.

“I’m afraid I have,” I said. “So he must have made a monkey of me.”

“He did not. On the contrary.” He was squinting at me. “Mrs. Blount says she has explained the situation to you, but can I add anything? Do you want to ask me anything?”

“Yes. What’s the fact that is known only to you and Mr. Blount?”

His eyes widened for a second, then squinted again. “You know,” he said, “that might be a good question if Wolfe were on the case. But since he isn’t, since Mrs. Blount has explained, it’s out of order. You know?”

I decided to pass the buck to Sally, since it really depended on her. If she hung on with Kalmus present, after the fur I had started flying, that would settle it for good as far as I was concerned. “That would be a good answer,” I said, “if Mr. Wolfe were out of the case. But as far as I know, he isn’t. Let’s ask Miss Blount, she hired him.” I turned to her. “What about it? Do you want out?”

“No.” It came out a croak, and she repeated it. “No.”

“Do you want Mr. Wolfe to go on with it? And me?”

“Yes.”

“Then I have a sugges—”

“Now come off it, Sally.” Kalmus had turned to face her. “You stubborn little imp. If your dad were here — anyway he is, by proxy.” He tapped his chest. “Me. It’s an order, from him, by him, and for him. You can’t disobey an order from your dad.”

“Yes I can.” She had drawn back when he stepped close. “I would even if he were here and told me himself. He trusts you and I don’t.”

“Nonsense. You’re not qualified to judge my professional competence. You don’t even—”

“It’s not just your professional competence. I don’t trust you. Tell him, Archie.”

I told his back, “Miss Blount considers that if her father is convicted and sentenced you can make a set at his wife, and she thinks that that may be affecting your judgment. It was on account of that—”

He had whirled and pulled a fist back, his right, and was starting it for my face. Anna Blount made a grab for his arm and missed. The nephew took a step and stopped. I could have ducked and jabbed him in the kidney, but he was so slow it was simpler to sidestep and get his wrist as it came and give it a good twist. It hurt, but the damn fool started his left, and I jerked him around and as he went down to his knees I sent my eyes to Farrow, who had taken another step.

“I wouldn’t,” I said. “I’m probably in better condition and I’ve had more practice.” I looked at Kalmus, who was scrambling up. “If you must hit somebody, hit Miss Blount. I was merely telling you what she thinks. That’s why she came to Nero Wolfe, and that’s why she won’t let go.” I turned to her. “I was saying, I have a suggestion. It’s not going to be very pleasant for you here. If you’d like to spend the night with some friend, and if you want to pack a bag, I’ll be glad to take you. I’ll wait downstairs. Of course if you prefer to stay here and take it—”

“No.” She moved. “I’ll pack a bag.” She headed for the arch, and I followed. From behind, Mrs. Blount said something, but we kept going. In the foyer she said, “I won’t be long. You’ll wait?” I said I would, took my hat and coat, let myself out, and pushed the elevator button.

I put it at fifty-fifty, an even chance that either her mother or Kalmus, or both, would talk her out of leaving, and down in the lobby I considered alternatives. My watch said 10:41. I would give her half an hour, and then I would go back up, or I would go to a phone booth on Madison Avenue and ring her, or I would go home, report to Wolfe, and let him use his intelligence guided by experience. But she saved me the trouble of deciding. I had just looked at my watch and seen 10:53 when the elevator door closed, and in a couple of minutes it opened again, and there she was, in the pallid mink, with a matching turban, and luggage — not just an overnight bag, a medium-size brown leather suitcase.

Her face was glum but grim, with her jaw set. The hallman was coming for the suitcase, but I was there first. I asked him to get a taxi, and when he was outside I asked her if she had phoned someone, and she said no, she hadn’t decided where to go. She was going on, but the hallman got a break on a snowy night. A cab pulled up at the curb outside, and I ushered her out, let the flunky put the luggage in with the driver, handed him a quarter, got in after the client, told the hackie the first stop would be the nearest phone booth, and we rolled. Sally started to say something, but I put a finger to my lips and shook my head. The hackie might not only know the address of Matthew Blount who was booked for murder, he might even have recognized his daughter from her picture in the paper, and there was no point in letting him in on the latest development. He turned right on Seventy-eighth Street, right again on Madison, and in a couple of blocks stopped in front of a drugstore.

I leaned forward to poke a dollar bill at him. “Here,” I said, “go in and blow it. Aspirin, cigarettes, lipstick for your wife, whatever you need. We’re going in conference. I’ll come in for you, say ten minutes, maybe less.”

“Can’t,” he said. “The law.”

“Nuts. If a cop shows I’ll tell him it’s an emergency.” I got out my card case and showed him my license. He gave it a look, said, “Oh. How-do-you-do,” took the dollar, climbed out, and went.

Sally gave me her face. “I’m glad you did that,” she blurted. “I’m glad .”

“Sure,” I said, “I thought we could use a little privacy. Taxi drivers talk too much. Now if you’ve decided—”

“I don’t mean that. I mean I’m glad you told my mother. And him. I wanted to, but I couldn’t. Now they know. How did you know?”

“The deductive process. I’m a licensed detective, so I’m allowed to guess. Have you decided where you’re going?”

“Yes, I’m going to a hotel — some little hotel. You know about hotels, don’t you?”

“Yeah. But... haven’t you any friends with an extra bed?”

“Of course I have. I was going to phone one, but then I thought what would I say? All of a sudden like this, eleven o’clock at night... I’d have to give some reason, and what could I say? With all the talk...” She shook her head. “I’m going to a hotel.”

“Well.” I gave it a look. “That might be even worse. You could use another name, but if someone spots you and the papers get onto it, talk about talk. Good headlines. BLOUNT’S DAUGHTER FLEES HOME IN MIDDLE OF NIGHT. Also possibly that I escorted you. The hallman. I showed the cab driver my license.”