Рекс Стаут - Death of a Doxy

“Then he knew my name, but no one else did. Then he’s a scoundrel and a blackmailer. I have been paying him a thousand dollars a month for four months. Almost certainly he is also a murderer. He killed her. I don’t know why he killed her, but he’s a scoundrel.”

Wolfe’s eyes came to me, and I met them. I put one brow up. His eyes went back to Ballou. “Why the devil,” he demanded, “didn’t you tell me this before? Two days ago.”

“I didn’t see it then. Not as I do now, after considering it. You had given me a bad jolt. And you had said that Cather didn’t kill her. I think he did. He’s a blackguard. I think he’ll be tried and convicted, and that’s why I’m here. You said the other day that if he is tried my name will inevitably be divulged, and that must not happen . My name connected not merely with a diversion but with a sensational murder — it must not happen .” He pointed to the package he had put on Wolfe’s desk. “That parcel contains fifty thousand dollars in fifty-dollar bills. You told me the other day that you were committed, but you don’t have to stay committed to a blackmailer and a murderer.”

He took a breath. “That fifty thousand is just a retainer. I’m in a tougher trap than I realized, and I have to get out, no matter what it costs. I admit I don’t see how it can be done, but you know Cather and you’ll know how to deal with him. I’m not asking or expecting anything crooked. If they have the evidence to try him and convict him, all right, that’s the law. But my name must not appear . You said that, since no one has called on me, my name isn’t in that diary, and also evidently Cather hasn’t mentioned my name to the police. Isn’t that true?”

“Yes.” Wolfe was pinching his lip with a thumbtip and a fingertip. “You’re going much too fast, Mr. Ballou. I concede that I don’t have to stay committed to ablackmailer and a murderer, but am I? I need to know more. Describe the man you paid the money to.”

“I have never seen him. I mailed it to him.”

“When and how did he demand it?”

“On the telephone. One evening in September, at my home, I was told that a man who gave his name as Robert Service Kipling wished to speak to me. Of course I took the phone. He told me that he didn’t have to explain why he used that name and told me to go to a nearby drugstore and be at the booth at ten o’clock and answer the phone when it rang. You will understand why I went. At ten o’clock the phone rang in the booth, and I answered it. It was the same voice. It isn’t necessary to tell you what he said. He said enough to convince me that he knew of my visits to that apartment and their purpose. He said he had no desire to interfere with them, and he thought I should show my appreciation for his cooperation. He told me to mail him ten hundred-dollar bills the next day, and the same amount on the fifteenth of each month. I said I would.”

He rubbed his brow with a palm. “I know it is wrong, on principle, to submit to blackmail. But the threat was not exposure, he didn’t say he had evidence in his possession, he merely made it plain that I would have to pay him or stop going there. He wouldn’t answer my questions, how had he learned my name, but obviously he hadn’t merely seen me and recognized me, from things he said. Just his giving his name as Robert Service Kipling would have been enough for that. I mailed the money the next day, and each month since. I simply preferred to pay him rather than give it up. Now I know. Unquestionably it was Cather. Miss Kerr had told him.”

Wolfe nodded. “A reasonable conjecture, but that’s all. His name and address, for mailing?”

“It was a fake name, naturally. The address was General Delivery, Grand Central Station, Lexington Avenue and Forty-fifth Street. The name was Milton Thales.”

“Thales? T,H,A,L,E,S?”

“Yes.”

“Indeed. Interesting.” Wolfe closed his eyes and in a moment opened them. “You made no effort to learn who he was?”

“No. What for? What good would that do?”

“If it was Mr. Cather, it might have prevented this. Did you tell Miss Kerr about it?”

“Yes. I asked if she had told anyone, anyone , my name, and she said she hadn’t. She lied. She was very — well, she was indignant. I was a little surprised at her reaction. It didn’t seem to be—” He stopped. He pursed his lips and frowned, and then he nodded. “I see. Of course. I said I don’t know why he killed her, but it’s obvious. She knew it must be Cather, and she told him, and she told him he had to stop, and he killed her. My God, if I had known — damn him. Damn him!”

It was closer to passion than I had thought was in his compass, and I was going to offer him a drink, but Wolfe spoke. “A detail. The voice on the telephone. Indubitably a man?”

“Yes. He was disguising it, a kind of falsetto, but I was sure it was a man. No doubt at all.”

“Has he communicated with you again? Telephoned?”

“Once. The seventeenth of December. That name again, Robert Service Kipling. At my home. He said he thought I would like to know that the material was being received, and that was all.”

Wolfe leaned back, closed his eyes, clasped his hands at the high point of his middle, and pushed his lips out. Ballou started to say something, and I showed him a palm, but it really didn’t matter. When Wolfe’s lips start working like that, out and in, out and in, he has taken off and he hears nothing. Ballou lowered his head and shut his eyes, so in effect I was left alone for about three minutes. Finally Wolfe opened his eyes and asked me if I could get Saul and Fred, and I said yes but I didn’t know how soon. He said, “The kitchen. Tell them to come at once,” and I went.

Making phone calls merely to tell men they’re wanted — I had to try three numbers to get Saul — doesn’t take much brainpower, and my mind could work on something else. Not figuring the odds on Orrie as a blackmailer, that was so long a shot it was just no bet. The riddle was, why was Thales an interesting name for a blackmailer? Wolfe had really meant it; it wasn’t the tone he uses when he’s faking. If he thought it was interesting I should too, since I knew everything he did. I would give a nice new dollar bill to know how many of the people who read this report will be on to it. I still wasn’t when I returned to the office, though I sat and pecked at it for a good five minutes after I got Saul.

Two paces inside the office I stopped. The red leather chair was empty. I asked Wolfe, “Did you bounce him?”

He shook his head. “He’s in the front room. Lying down. Of course he shouldn’t be seen by Saul and Fred. You got them?”

“They’re on the way.” I crossed to my desk. “It’s too bad Orrie sank to blackmail, but then a wedding ring, furniture, marriage license — it mounts up.”

“Nonsense.”

“You can say that, with fifty grand there on your desk? Why is it interesting that he picked Thales for a name?”

“You mispronounce it. So did Mr. Ballou.”

“It isn’t Thales?”

“Certainly not. It’s Thā-lēz.”

“Oh, that’s why it’s interesting.”

“The Milton is interesting too. Thales of Miletus, the sixth and seventh centuries B.C., was the chief of the seven ‘wise men’ of ancient Greece. He preceded Euclid by three centuries. He founded the geometry of lines. He made the first prediction of an eclipse of the sun, to the day. His was the first great name in the history of mathematics. Thales of Miletus.”

“I’ll be damned.” I sat and looked at it for a full minute. “I will be damned. He had a hell of a nerve. Ballou went to college. He might have liked mathematics. He might have known all about Thales of Miletus.”