Rex Stout - Method Three for Murder

I was thinking, If so you’re an expert.

Wolfe’s eyes, at him, were half closed. “It was dark. How could you know there was no one in the cab?”

“There’s a light at that corner. I have good eyes and so has the driver. She was going slow, for the turn.”

“You didn’t follow her?”

“No. There was no point in following her if Kearns wasn’t with her.”

“What would you say if I told you that Miss Holt saw you in your parked taxi as she drove by?”

“I wouldn’t believe it. When she drove by arriving I was flat on the seat. It was dark but I didn’t risk her seeing me. When she left she didn’t drive by. Carmine Street is one-way.”

Wolfe leaned back and shut his eyes, and his lips began to work. Irving started to say something, and I snapped at him, “Hold it.” Wolfe pushed his lips out and pulled them in, out and in, out and in… He was earning the twenty-five bucks I had paid him. I had no idea how, but when he starts that lip operation the sparks are flying inside his skull.

Irving tried again. “But I want—”

“Hold it.”

“But I don’t—”

“Shut up!”

He sat regarding me, not warmly.

Wolfe opened his eyes and straightened. “Mr. Irving.” He was curt. “You will get what you came here for, but not forthwith. Possibly within the hour, probably somewhat later. Tell me where I can reach you, or you may—”

“Damn it, no! I want—”

“If you please. Confound it, I’ve been yelped at enough today. Or you may wait here. That room has comfortable chairs — or one at least. Mr. Goodwin and I have work to do.”

“I don’t intend—”

“Your intentions have no interest or point. Where can we reach you?”

Irving looked at me and saw nothing hopeful. He arose. “I’ll wait here,” he said, and headed for the front room.

Having turned my head to see that Irving shut the door, I turned it back again. “Fine,” I said. “We’re going to work.”

“I’m a dunce,” he said. “So are you.”

“It’s possible,” I conceded. “Can you prove it?”

“It’s manifest. Why did that policeman stop his car to look inside that cab?”

“Cops do. That’s what a prowl car is for. They saw it parked with the hackie gone, and while that’s nothing strange they thought it was worth a look. Also it was parked in front of your house. He knew it was your house. He said so.”

“Nevertheless, we are dunces not to have questioned it. I want to know if that policeman had been prompted. At once.”

“It’s a point,” I admitted. “The papers haven’t mentioned it. I doubt if Cramer would—”

“No.”

“I could try Lon Cohen.”

“Do so.”

I swiveled and dialed the Gazette number, and got Lon. Wolfe lifted his receiver to listen in. I told Lon I wanted something for nothing. He said I always did and usually got it, but if what I was after this time was an ad under “Situations Wanted” I would have to pay.

“That was just a dirty rumor,” I said. “I am permanently in Mr. Wolfe’s employ — permanently, that is, in the sense that I may still be here tomorrow. On our present job we’re shy a detail. If you’ll supply it I’ll give you something for the front page if and when. We don’t know whether the cop who stopped to uncover Phoebe Arden’s body in the taxi had been steered or was just nosy. Do you?”

“Yes, but I’m not supposed to. The DA is saving it. He may release it this afternoon. If he does I’ll call you.”

“We need it now. Not for publication, and we wouldn’t dream of quoting you. We’re just curious.”

“I’ll bet you are. I wish I got paid as much for being curious as Wolfe does. Okay. It was a dialed phone call to Canal six, two thousand. Probably a man, but it could have been a woman trying to sound like a man or the reverse. It said there was a taxi standing in front of nine-eighteen West Thirty-fifth Street with a dead woman in it. As you know, that address has been heard from before. The sergeant radioed a prowl car.”

“Has the call been traced?”

“How? Modern improvements. But you’d better ask the DA.”

“A good idea. I will. Many thanks and I won’t forget the front page.” I hung up and swiveled. “I’ll be damned. Where can we buy dunce caps? For a passerby to see it he would have had to open the door and lift the canvas.”

Wolfe’s lips were tight. “We should have done that hours ago.”

“Lon may not have known hours ago.”

“True. Even so. Get Mr. Cramer.”

I swiveled and dialed. It wasn’t as simple as getting Lon Cohen had been. Cramer was in conference and couldn’t be disturbed. I was hacking away at it when Wolfe took his phone and said, “This is Nero Wolfe. I have something that will not wait. Ask Mr. Cramer if he prefers that I deal with the District Attorney.”

In two minutes there was a bark. “What do you want?”

“Mr. Cramer?” He knew darned well it was.

“Yes. I’m busy.”

“So am I. Is it true that Miss Holt refuses to talk without advice from Mr. Goodwin or me?”

“Yes, it is, and I was just telling Stebbins to get Goodwin down here. And then I’m going—”

“If you please. Mr. Goodwin and I have decided that it is now desirable for Miss Holt to answer any questions you care to ask — or that it will be after we have had a brief talk with her. Since I must be present and I transact business only in my own office, it will be pointless for you to send for him. If you want her to talk bring her here.”

“You’re too late, Wolfe. I don’t need her to tell me that she drove that cab to your address. I already know it. Her prints are on the steering wheel and the door, and other places. You’re too late.”

“Has she admitted it?”

“No, but she will.”

“I doubt it. She’s rather inflexible. I regret having called you to the phone to no purpose. May I make a request? Don’t keep Mr. Goodwin longer than necessary. I am about to conclude a matter in which he has an interest and would like him present. I wanted Miss Holt here too, but since I’m too late I’ll have to manage without her.”

Silence. Prolonged.

“Are you there, Mr. Cramer?”

“Yes. So you’re going to conclude a matter.”

“I am. Soon afterwards Miss Holt and Mr. Goodwin and I will talk not by your sufferance but at our will.”

“Are you saying that you know who killed Phoebe Arden?”

“‘Know’ implies certitude. I have formed a conclusion and intend to verify it. It shouldn’t take long. But I’m keeping you. Could you do without Mr. Goodwin until, say, four o’clock? It’s half past twelve. By then we should have finished.”

Another silence, not quite so long. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes,” Cramer said.

“With Miss Holt?”

“Yes.”

“Satisfactory. But not in fifteen minutes. I must get Judith Bram and Waldo Kearns. Do you know where they are?”

“Kearns is at his home. He said he would be if we wanted him again. Judith Bram is here. I’ll bring her along, and I’ll send for Kearns. Now.”

“No, people have to eat. Will you lunch with us? And Miss Holt?”

“I will not. Did you ever skip a meal in your life?”

“Many times when I was younger, by necessity. Then I suggest that you arrive with Miss Holt at two o’clock, and arrange for Miss Bram and Mr. Kearns to come at two-thirty. Will that be convenient?”

“By God. Convenient! ”

A click. He was off. We hung up. I said, “Probably Irving eats too.”

“Yes. Bring him.”

I went and got him. He marched to Wolfe’s desk and demanded, “Well?”

Wolfe’s head slanted back. “I forgot, sir, when I said possibly within the hour, that lunch would interfere. It will be a little longer. I have spoken with Inspector Cramer, and he will arrive with Miss Holt at two o’clock. We shall expect you and your wife to join us at two-thirty.”