Рекс Стаут - The Mother Hunt

Saul Panzer was downstairs helping Lucy receive and seat the guests, following instructions from Wolfe on the arrangement. He told me later that it was Leo Bingham, coming last, who held it up. It was twenty- five minutes to two when I heard footsteps and looked out and saw Saul at the door of the other room. He spoke to Wolfe, turned to me and said, “All set,” and went to the stairs and started down. I ushered Upton out and into the elevator, and in a moment we were joined by Wolfe and Anne Tenzer. There would have been room for a couple more provided they weren’t Wolfe’s size. He pushed the button himself and cocked his head as we descended, listening for a creak or a groan, and hearing none. I suspected that before long I would be told to find out how much one like it would cost.

I have never thought that Inspector Cramer was a sap, and still don’t. Take his reaction when he twisted his head around and saw us enter. He jumped up, opened his mouth, and shut it. He realized instantly that Wolfe wouldn’t have dared to stage that charade if he hadn’t had a line he was sure of, and if he blew his top in front of witnesses he might be just making it sweeter for Wolfe in the end. As we crossed to the group his face got redder and his mouth tighter, but he didn’t let out a peep.

Saul had placed them as instructed. Lucy was off to the left, and near her was a chair for Anne Tenzer. Willis Krug and Julian Haft were on the couch, and Leo Bingham was on a chair at its right end. Cramer’s chair was midway of the couch, facing it, and Saul was to his left. The roomiest chair, for Wolfe, was where I had put it earlier, near the left end of the couch, where there was space for Upton and me, putting Upton next to Haft and me not far from Wolfe.

But Upton had other ideas. When we reached the couch, instead of sitting he turned to face Cramer. “I want to enter a charge, Inspector,” he said. “Against Nero Wolfe and Archie Goodwin. They have held me here by force, physical force. Goodwin assaulted me. I am Manuel Upton. I don’t know what the charge is technically, but you do. I want you to put them under arrest.”

Cramer had enough on his hands for the moment without that. He eyed him. “They’re facing a more serious charge,” he growled. He looked down at Wolfe, seated. “What about this one?”

Wolfe made a face, “Mr. Goodwin and Mrs. Valdon and I will flout it. I suggest that you act on it later, if at all. We have a graver matter to deal with — as you know, since obviously Mrs. Valdon’s phone call was prompted by me.”

“When did you come here?”

“Saturday. Day before yesterday.”

“You’ve been here since Saturday?”

“Yes.”

“Goodwin too?”

“Yes. Won’t you sit? I don’t like to stretch my neck.”

“Arrest them,” Upton croaked. “That’s a formal demand. Arrest them.”

“Don’t be an ass,” Wolfe told him. “I’m going to name a murderer, and Mr. Cramer knows it. Otherwise he would have arrested me, not on your charge, as soon as he caught sight of me.” He looked around, right and then left. Cramer sat. I sat. That left Upton the only one on his feet, so he sat, between Haft and me on the couch.

Wolfe focused on Cramer. “I don’t know how much you know, but gaps can be filled in later. This murderer is one of those unfortunate creatures who, neither designed nor fitted for that spectacular role, find themselves—”

“Save that for later too,” Cramer growled.

“It’s a necessary introduction. Find themselves abruptly rocketed into it. Some seven months ago Carol Mardus asked him to help her dispose of a baby she didn’t want to keep, and he obliged her. If you had told him then that as a result of that amiable favor to a friend he would be twice a murderer within the year, he would have thought you were demented. The next fateful step, though not amiable, was not murderous; it was merely mischievous. Knowing that Richard Valdon had been the father of the baby, he took—”

“That’s too big a gap. Was it the baby that was boarded by Ellen Tenzer?”

“Yes. I see this won’t do. I must name him. Did you recognize the woman who entered the room with me?”

“No.”

“She is Anne Tenzer, the niece of Ellen Tenzer. She was of course questioned in the investigation of her aunt’s death, but apparently not by you.” Wolfe turned. “Miss Tenzer, will you please tell Mr. Cramer what your occupation is?”

Anne cleared her throat. She was still a blonde, and if you asked ten men which of the two women sitting there was more attractive, her or Lucy, probably seven of them would say her. When she had entered the elevator and seen me she had said one word, hello, very offhand. Hello is not hi.

Her cool competent eyes went to Cramer. “I’m a secretary, with the Stopgap Employment Service. We fill in — vacations, any temporary vacancies. I’m at the senior executive level.”

“So you have worked for many different firms?” Wolfe asked.

“I have worked at many different firms. My employer is the Stopgap Employment Service. I average about fifteen assignments a year.”

“Is there anyone in this room you have ever worked for — on assignment?”

“Yes.”

“Do you recognize him?”

“Certainly. Julian Haft, president of the Parthenon Press.”

“When did you work for him?”

“I don’t know the exact dates, but it was early last summer. I think it was the last two weeks in June and the first week in July.”

“Did your work bring you into frequent contact with Mr. Haft?”

“Yes. I was replacing his private secretary. She was on vacation.”

“Was the name of your aunt, Ellen Tenzer, ever mentioned in conversation with him?”

“Yes. He dictated a letter about a book, a manuscript, by a woman who had been a nurse, and I mentioned that I had an aunt who had been a nurse, and we talked about her a little. I must have mentioned that she boarded babies in her house sometimes, because when he called me up he asked—”

“If you please. When did he call you up?”

“Several months later, in the winter, I think some time in January. He called the Stopgap Employment Service and left a message, and I called him. He asked if my aunt still boarded babies, and I said I thought so, and he wanted her name and address.”

“You supplied it? The name and address?”

“Yes.”

“Have you been—”

“Just a minute.” Cramer was glaring at her. “Why didn’t you mention this when you were questioned at the time of your aunt’s death?”

“Because I had forgotten — no, I hadn’t forgotten, but I didn’t think of it. Why should I?”

“What reminded you of it now?”

“A man came and asked me.” She nodded at Saul. “That man. He named some men, four men, and asked if I had ever met any of them. I told him I had met Julian Haft, that I had worked for him, and he asked if I had any reason to suppose that he had ever heard of my aunt. Then of course I remembered, and I told him. He said it might help to find out who had killed my aunt, and I told him all about it.”

“With him helping you to remember?”

“I don’t know what you mean, ‘helping me.’ I do my own remembering. How could he help me remember?”

“He could make suggestions. He could suggest that you had told Mr. Haft that your aunt boarded babies. He could suggest the phone call that you say you received in January.”

“Maybe he could, but he didn’t. He didn’t suggest anything, he just asked questions. It’s you who are suggesting things. I’m doing something I’m not supposed to do, and I’ve never done it before. The kind of work I do, for lots of different men, important men, I’m not supposed to talk about it to anyone, and I never do. I’m talking about this because it’s not really about my work, it’s about my aunt, and she was murdered.”