Рекс Стаут - Please Pass the Guilt

I suppose Wolfe has been surprised by things people have said as often as you or me, but his ego has arranged with him not to show it and he rarely does. But that got him. His eyes stretched wide, as wide as I have ever seen them, then they narrowed at her, half closed, and he cleared his throat.

“Indeed,” he said. “Have you told the police?”

“No. I have told no one. No one knows about it except Miss Haber and me. I have hoped the police would get him. Why haven’t they found out where and how he got the bomb? My god, are they any good at all? It has been more than two weeks. Now, after what you have said, I have got to do something and I want you to tell me what. How much do you know? Do you know that there was to be a directors’ meeting at five o’clock that day to decide who would be the new president of CAN?”

“Yes. And that it would be either your husband or Mr. Browning.”

She nodded. “And they were both to be at the meeting, and give their ideas about policy and what they thought should be done, and answer questions, and then leave, and we would discuss it and then vote. Did you know that?”

“No.”

“Well, that’s how it was. If you have read the papers, you know that Amory Browning kept a certain brand of whisky in that bottom drawer of his desk.”

“Yes.”

“And that every afternoon around four o’clock he took a drink of it.”

“That has been said, yes.”

“Well, he did. Every afternoon, between four and five o’clock. Everybody knew it. All right, now I’m telling you what you have guaranteed not to repeat. My husband went to that room and opened that drawer to put something in the whisky. It was my idea. Do you know what LSD is?”

“Yes. Lysergic acid diethylamide.”

“My god, you can pronounce it. Well, I got some. You don’t need to know how I got it. Miss Haber knows. I got some, it was a powder, and I put it in a little plastic container, and I persuaded my husband to use it. The police know he had it. It was in a pocket of his jacket. You didn’t know about that .”

“No.”

“They haven’t told about it. I think they haven’t told anyone but me, and I told them I knew nothing about it. He was going to put it in the whisky. Almost certainly Browning would take a drink before he went to that meeting at five o’clock. We didn’t know what that amount of LSD would do to him — of course we didn’t know how full the bottle would be. But there was a good chance it would do enough for him to make a bad impression at that meeting, and it was understood and agreed that we would make a final decision that day. All right, now you know why he went to that room and opened that drawer.”

Wolfe nodded. “I probably do. It isn’t likely that you would trump up a tale of such an exploit — and the police have the LSD. You said that Miss Haber knows how you got it. Did she also know how you planned to use it?”

“Yes.”

“Did anyone else know?”

“Yes. Amory Browning.”

Wolfe shook his head. “My credulity will stretch only so far, madam. Obviously you are going to tell me that Mr. Browning murdered your husband.”

“That’s right. He did.” Her head turned. “Charlotte?”

Miss Haber’s mouth opened, and closed. She lifted a hand, and dropped it. “Please, Mrs. Odell,” she said. “I don’t think — You tell him. Please?”

“Well, you’re here.” Mrs. Odell went back to Wolfe. “There are strong people,” she said, “and there are weak people, and Miss Haber is one of the weak ones. She’s extremely competent, but weak. She found out for me how to get some LSD, and in fact she got it for me, about a month ago. Then she found out what I was going to do with it by eavesdropping on us — my husband and me. Then she phoned Amory Browning and told him what we were going to do. I didn’t know that until three days after my husband died. So she was weak three times — getting the LSD for me without knowing what I wanted it for, and phoning Browning, and telling me. You said the most important question is who knew my husband was going to that room and open that drawer. All right, three people knew: Miss Haber and me, and Amory Browning. And she told Browning four days before it happened, so he had plenty of time to get the bomb.”

Wolfe was frowning at her with his chin down. “A remarkable performance,” he said. “Extraordinary. You seem not to be aware that—”

She cut in. “I’m not through. About Browning getting the bomb. Do you watch television?”

“Rarely.”

“About three months ago, CAN had a one-hour special they called ‘Where the Little Bombs Come From.’ Did you see it?”

“No.”

“Lots of people thought it told too much about what bombs are made of and who makes them, but it really didn’t, because they changed all the names and didn’t give any addresses. That program was Browning’s idea and his staff did all the research, so getting one would have been easy for him. If you mean it would have been remarkable for him to get a bomb in four days and know how to use it, it wouldn’t.”

Wolfe was still frowning. “I didn’t mean that. I meant your performance. That is of course one detail to be considered, but before considering details I must know if I’m going to be concerned with them. If I take the job, what do you expect me to do?”

“I expect you to tell me what to do, and I suppose help me do it. I want Amory Browning indicted and tried and convicted, but I do not want what I have told you to be known. I am not going to sit in a witness chair and tell what my husband and I did and answer questions about it. How many things have you done that you wouldn’t want everyone to know about?”

“Perhaps a thousand. Adulterating a rival’s whisky is not one of them, but tastes and methods differ.” Wolfe’s head turned. “Miss Haber. Do you corroborate what Mrs. Odell has told me of your share in this affair?”

The secretary swallowed. I had her in profile, but apparently her eyes were straight at him. She said “Yes,” but it was barely audible, and she repeated it louder, “Yes, I do.”

“You got some LSD at her request?”

“Yes, but I’m not going to tell how I got it.”

“I don’t need to know, at least not now. And you learned how she was going to use it by overhearing conversations she had with her husband?”

“Yes. I thought I had a right to know. LSD is illegal. It can’t be sold legally and you can’t even have it in your possession.”

“And you decided to tell Mr. Browning about it? Why?”

“Because I was afraid it might kill him. The amount I got and gave Mrs. Odell — it was about four tablespoons — I didn’t know what it would do. If the whisky bottle was only half full, or even less, and Mr. Odell put all that LSD in it — from the little I knew I thought it would kill him. I would be an accessory to a murder, and anyway I didn’t want to help kill a man. It may be what Mrs. Odell said, that I’m one of the weak ones — anyhow, I didn’t want to be a murderer.”

“How did you communicate with Mr. Browning? Did you write to him?”

“I phoned him. I phoned him Friday evening, from a booth, at his place in the country. I didn’t tell him my name. I didn’t tell him any names. I just told him that Tuesday afternoon someone was going to put a dangerous drug in the whisky in his desk drawer and he had better not drink it. He wanted to ask questions, but I hung up. Of course I supposed he would suspect it would be Mr. Odell, but I certainly didn’t suppose he would do what he did.”

“Where is his country place?”

“In Connecticut. Westport.”

“You say you phoned him Friday evening. Which Friday?”