Рекс Стаут - Please Pass the Guilt

“Shove it,” Cramer growled. “Who the hell are you, Panzer? Do you think you’re Goodwin?” His eyes stopped at me a second on their way to Wolfe. To Wolfe he said, “It’s you. It’s always you.”

A corner of Wolfe’s mouth was up a thirty-second of an inch. For him a broad grin. He asked politely, “Does that mean something?”

“You know damn well—” Cramer bit it off. “Skip it. I don’t want to interrupt. I have all day. Go right ahead. I might learn something.”

“We haven’t even started.”

“ That would be something. How you start.”

“Well...” Wolfe shut his eyes. In ten seconds he opened them, looked at Saul, then at Fred, and then at Orrie. Then at me. “Get Mr. Abbott.”

It didn’t seem necessary to pretend I had to look up the number, so instead of going to my desk, where Cramer was, I went around to the other end of Wolfe’s desk, reached for his phone, and dialed. It took four minutes to get the president of CAN — first an operator and then his secretary, and I had to say it was urgent. Since it was Wolfe’s phone and I didn’t go to mine, I heard only him.

“Good morning, Mr. Abbott... Yes, I’m busy too, this won’t take long. You said Monday evening that you have a warm and deep sympathy with Mrs. Odell and you want to oblige her; and this request is from her through me. I have just given three men the known facts about Mr. Odell’s death. Their names are Saul Panzer, Fred Durkin, and Orrie Cather. They are experienced and competent. I ask you to give them permission to talk with people who are employed by your company — to move freely about the premises and talk with anyone who is available and willing. Only those who are willing. The police can do that without permission, but these men can’t. They need a letter from you, and I want to send them to your office to get it. They will be considerate; they will not impose. They will not ask to talk with anyone who was here Monday evening. If you have a complaint about one of them, he will be withdrawn. May they come now for the letters?... No, of course not. No compulsion... No, there will be no difficulty about that. Inspector Cramer is here hearing me, and... Yes, Inspector Cramer of Homicide South. He is here in my office... No, there is nothing official about this request. Mr. Cramer came to talk with me and interrupted my talk with these men. He has neither approved this request nor objected to it...”

There was some more, mostly about interrupting people at work. When Wolfe hung up I was back in the red leather chair. He leaned back and sent his eyes to Fred and across Orrie to Saul. To them: “So you are going fishing. First to Mr. Abbott for credentials, and then scatter. As usual, anything whatever may or may not be significant. If any single question has precedence, it is who, if anyone, knew that Mr. Odell was going to that room and open that drawer. If you get no answer to that or any other question, you may at least get hints. Report to Archie daily as usual. I doubt if any bribing will be necessary or desirable, but the available funds are unlimited.” He turned to me. “Five hundred?”

I said that should do for a start and went and opened the safe. From the supply in the cash box, always used bills, I got thirty twenties, sixty tens, and sixty fives, and split them three ways. Wolfe was telling them, “You heard me say that you will exclude those who were here Monday evening. Saul, you will try Dennis Copes. The question you want answered, did he know or think he knew that Kenneth Meer habitually inspected that drawer, is of course the one you won’t ask. Orrie, you will try Dennis Copes’s secretary if he has one. We want that question answered. Fred, you will follow your nose. Smile at people. Your smile is admirably deceptive. All of you, don’t push and don’t impose. There is no urgency. — Mr. Cramer. Have you a question or a comment before they go?”

Cramer said, “No,” louder than necessary, and with the used lettuce, distributed by me while Wolfe was talking, in their wallets, they got up and went. I gave Cramer a deceptive smile and said, “Let’s trade,” and he rose and crossed to the red leather chair and I took the one I belonged in.

Wolfe swiveled to face him. “Obviously,” he said, “you are not in armor. Perhaps you will answer one question. Who told you about my Monday evening visitors?”

“Kenneth Meer. He phoned Lieutenant Rowcliff yesterday morning.”

“Indeed.”

“Yes.” Cramer got a cigar from a pocket, stuck it in his mouth, and clamped his teeth on it. “You have Goodwin report verbatim, so I will. When Rowcliff told me about Meer’s call, he said, ‘Of course when they left, that fat son-of-a-bitch leaned back in his goddam tailor-made chair and shut his goddam beady eyes and worked his lips a while, and then he sat up and told that smart-ass Goodwin who the murderer was and told him to have him there at six o’clock when he came down from nursing his goddam orchids. So we’ll put a man there to see who comes at six o’clock and then all we’ll have to do is dig up the evidence and the motive.’ Well, we did put a man there, and he reported that Theodore Falk came at half-past six. I thought it would save time and trouble to come and ask you, at least for the motive. That will help, getting the evidence.”

Wolfe shook his head. “This isn’t like you. Wasting your breath on clumsy sarcasm. And sitting here hearing me send those men on their errands you said nothing to them, or to me, about interference by private investigators in a murder case. How many times have you threatened to take my license? Are you desperate?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.” Wolfe’s eyes opened wide. He shut them and opened them again. “Shall we have beer?”

“Yes.”

Wolfe reached to the button to give Fritz the beer signal. Cramer took the cigar from his mouth, inspected the teeth marks, started it back toward his mouth, changed his mind, and laid it on the little table at his elbow. Fritz came with a bottle and glass on a tray and was told to bring another.

Cramer aimed a frown at me and then switched it to Wolfe. “I didn’t come to ask for help. I’m not down that low. But it looks close to impossible. Of course lots of murder cases are impossible and have to be put on the open list, which means they’re closed actually, but that won’t do when the victim is a Peter Odell. But look at it. How can we get a murderer when we don’t know who he wanted to kill? After three weeks we don’t even know that . Durkin thinks we should have traced the bomb. Nuts. Seventeen people had a hand in getting the dope for that goddam program, and they have named nine sources that were contacted, and God knows how many others there were that they haven’t named and won’t name. And some of them learned enough to make their own bombs, and who did they tell? Of course we’re still on that, but it looks worse now than it did a week ago.”

He turned his palms up, the fingers spread. “You told them that the first question is who knew Odell was going to that room and open that drawer. Yeah? Sure. They’ll bring you a list of names? Like hell they will. I don’t suppose you already know who knew? That you told them that because I was here?”

“Nonsense. If I knew that, I probably wouldn’t need those men.”

Fritz had come with another bottle and glass, and Wolfe got the opener from the drawer and used it, and I got up and served Cramer. Wolfe poured, and as he waited for the foam to reach the right level, he told Cramer, “Of course you know why Odell went there and opened that drawer.”

“I do?”

“Certainly. With a powerful drug in his pocket, opening the drawer where Browning kept his whisky? You are not a nincompoop.”