Rex Stout - The Second Confession

“If you’re asking me, none that I know of.”

“Maybe not. But there were circumstances — I won’t say suspicious, but peculiar. You gave a false name and address when you reported it at the State Police barracks.”

“I gave the name Goodwin.”

“Don’t quibble,” Wolfe muttered, pouring beer.

“I suppose you know,” I told Archer, “that I was sent up here by Mr. Wolfe, who employs me, and that Mr. Sperling and I arranged what my name and occupation would be to his family and guests. Rony was present while I was reporting at the barracks, and I didn’t think I ought to confuse him by changing names on him when he was still dim.”

“Dim?”

“As you said, he had just been blackjacked. His head was not clear.”

Archer nodded. “Even so, giving a false name and address to the police should be avoided whenever possible. You were held up by a man and a woman.”

“That’s right.”

“You reported the number of the license on their car, but it’s no good.”

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

“No. Nor me. Did you recognize either the man or the woman?”

I shook my head. “Aren’t you wasting your time, Mr. Archer?” I pointed at the papers on the table. “You must have it all there.”

“I have, certainly. But now that the man who was with you has been killed, that might sharpen your memory. You’re in the detective business, and you’ve been around a lot and seen lots of people. Haven’t you remembered that you had seen that man or woman before?”

“No, sir. After all, this is — okay. No, sir.”

“Why did you and Rony refuse to let the police take your wallets to get fingerprints?”

“Because it was late and we wanted to get home, and anyway it looked to me as if they were just living up to routine and didn’t really mean it.”

Archer glanced at a paper. “They took around three hundred dollars from Rony, and over two hundred from you. Is that right?”

“For Rony, so he said. For me, right.”

“He was wearing valuable jewelry — stickpin, cufflinks, and a ring. It wasn’t taken. There was luggage in the car, including two valuable cameras. It wasn’t touched. Didn’t that strike you as peculiar?”

I turned a hand over. “Now listen, Mr. Archer. You know damn well they have their prejudices. Some of them take everything that’s loose, even your belt or suspenders. These babies happened to prefer cash, and they got over five C’s. The only thing that struck me worth mentioning was something on the side of my head.”

“It left no mark on you.”

“Nor on Rony either. I guess they had had practice.”

“Did you go to a doctor?”

“No, sir. I didn’t know that Westchester required a doctor’s certificate in a holdup case. It must be a very progressive county. I’ll remember it next time.”

“You don’t have to be sarcastic, Goodwin.”

“No, sir.” I grinned at him. “Nor do you have to be so goddam sympathetic with a guy who got a bat on the head on a public road in your jurisdiction. Thank you just the same.”

“All right.” He flipped a hand to brush it off. “Why did you feel so bad you couldn’t eat anything all day Sunday?”

I admit that surprised me. Wolfe had mentioned the possibility that there would be a first-rate man among the questioners, and while this sudden question was no proof of brilliancy it certainly showed that someone had been good and thorough.

“The boys have been getting around,” I said admiringly. “I didn’t know any of the servants here had it in for me — maybe they used the third degree. Or could one of my fellow guests have spilled it?” I leaned forward and spoke in a low voice. “I had nine drinks and they were all doped.”

“Don’t clown,” Wolfe muttered, putting down an empty glass.

“What then?” I demanded. “Can I tell him it must have been something I ate with my host sitting here?”

“You didn’t have nine drinks,” Archer said. “You had two or three.”

“Okay,” I surrendered. “Then it must have been the country air. All I know is, I had a headache and my stomach kept warning me not to make any shipments. Now ask me if I went to a doctor. I ought to tell you, Mr. Archer, that I think I may get sore, and if I get sore I’ll start making wisecracks, and if I do that you’ll get sore. What good will that do us?”

The District Attorney laughed. His laughing routine was quite different from Sperling’s, being closer to a giggle than a roar, but it suited him all right. No one joined him, and after a moment he looked around apologetically and spoke to James U. Sperling.

“I hope you don’t think I’m taking this lightly. This is a very regrettable affair. Very.”

“It certainly is,” Sperling agreed.

Archer nodded, puckering his mouth. “Very regrettable. There’s no reason why I shouldn’t be entirely frank with you, Mr. Sperling — and in Mr. Wolfe’s presence, since you have retained him in your interest. It is not the policy of my office to go out of its way to make trouble for men of your standing. That’s only common sense. We have considered your suggestion that Rony was killed elsewhere, in a road accident, and the body brought here and concealed on your property, but we can’t — that is, it couldn’t have happened that way. He got off the train at Chappaqua at nine-twenty-three, and the taxi driver brought him to the entrance to your grounds, and saw him start walking up the driveway. Not only that, there is clear evidence that he was killed, run over by a car, on your drive at a point about thirty feet this side of the bridge crossing the brook. That evidence is still being accumulated, but there is already enough to leave no room for doubt. Do you want me to send for a man to give you the details?”

“No,” Sperling said.

“You’re welcome to them at any time. The evidence indicates that the car was going east, away from the house, toward the entrance, but that is not conclusive. Inspection of the cars belonging here has not been completed. It is possible that it was some other car — any car — which came in from the road, but you will understand why that theory is the least acceptable. It seems improbable, but we haven’t rejected it, and frankly, we see no reason for rejecting it unless we have to.”

Archer puckered his lips again, evidently considering words that were ready to come, and decided to let them through. “My office cannot afford to be offhand about sudden and violent death, even if it wanted to. In this case we have to answer not only to our own consciences, and to the people of this county whose servants we are, but also to — may I say, to other interests. There have already been inquiries from the New York City authorities, and an offer of co-operation. They mean it well and we welcome it, but I mention it to show that the interest in Rony’s death is not confined to my jurisdiction, and that of course increases my responsibility. I hope — do I make my meaning clear?”

“Perfectly,” Sperling assented.

“Then you will see that nothing can be casually overlooked — not that it should be or would be, in any event. Anyhow, it can’t be. As you know, we have questioned everyone here fairly rigorously — including all of your domestic staff — and we have got not the slightest clue to what happened. No one knows anything about it at all, with the single exception of your younger daughter, who admits — I should say states — that she asked Rony to come here on that train and meet her at a certain spot on this property. No one—”

Wolfe grunted. “Miss Sperling didn’t ask him to come on that train. She asked him to come. It was his convenience that determined the train.”

“My mistake,” Archer conceded. “Anyhow, it was her summons that brought him. He came on that train. It was on time. He got into the taxi at once, and the driving time from the railroad station to the entrance to these grounds is six or seven minutes, therefore he arrived at half past nine — perhaps a minute or so later. He may have headed straight for the place of his rendezvous, or he may have loitered on the drive — we don’t know.”