Роберт Голдсборо - Murder in E Minor

“If I’m not mistaken, you went out with Charles Meyerhoff at one time, too,” I said.

Lucinda laughed. “You know a lot, don’t you? Oh, Charles and I went to some parties and plays at one time a few years back, but it was just a thing of convenience for both of us. Nothing serious. I just like to be around people in the arts. I come from a theatrical family myself, Archie. My father was an actor back in Europe, and we lived all over the Continent when I was young. I did a little acting myself for a while, but it was only amateur things. I didn’t inherit his talent, I guess. Are you sure I can’t mix you a drink?”

“Thanks again, but I’d better be on my way,” I said. “I appreciate the time you’ve taken. One more thing: Can you recall where you were Wednesday night, say, from about seven-thirty to nine?”

Another tired smile. “You have to ask that, of course, Archie. I realize you have your orders. Yes, I can remember what I did Wednesday. I knew Milan would be home working that night — he planned his schedule far in advance, even down to which nights he stayed home working on scores, and he didn’t deviate from that schedule. We had been invited to a small late supper up in the Eighties — by some people named Morrison whom I’ve known for many years. Lawrence Morrison’s in the phone directory, on East Eighty-second, if you want to check. I went alone. I think I got there about eight-thirty.”

“And before that?” I asked.

“Well, at about seven I realized that I had forgotten to get flowers to take to them, so I left here early, about seven-thirty, I think, and caught a cab in front. We must have tried six or seven florists before I finally found one that stays open late. And I did end up getting a very nice arrangement.”

“You wouldn’t happen to remember who the florist was, would you?” I asked with a grin that was intended to show that the questions were friendly.

She fluttered a hand. “Oh, it was someplace down on Lexington, I think. Honestly, Archie, I don’t remember because I stopped at so many. I’m sorry.”

I couldn’t see that there was anything else to talk about, so I got up to go and thanked her again. “I do wish I could be more help,” she said, standing next to me and looking up with those stunning blue eyes. “While we were sitting, I didn’t realize how tall you were.”

There was probably a snappy retort to that line, but I couldn’t think of it, so I said thanks one last time and eased my way toward the door with Lucinda at my side. She made me promise to keep her posted on developments and we said good-bye — with a handshake. Maybe it’s my ego, but I had the feeling she would have preferred a more intimate parting gesture.

On the way down in the elevator and walking along Park Avenue, I tried to analyze her, and then decided I’d dump the whole thing on Wolfe, since he’s the one people hire. I ruled against stopping to see Lily, and instead ducked into a drugstore with a pay phone. Jason Remmers answered himself after two rings, and I told him about Wolfe’s plan for tomorrow.

“Sunday afternoon, eh?” he said after I’d laid it out. “Well, there isn’t a concert, so that’s no problem. I’ll start calling them right now; I’m sure they’re all in town, so that shouldn’t give us any trouble. If I ask them to see Wolfe, they’ll do it. What time?”

On Sundays, Wolfe doesn’t have the usual routine, so I told him four o’clock would be fine, and Remmers said he’d call back later to let me know the outcome. Back outside, the snow had covered the sidewalk and was still falling, but I needed the air to clear away the memories of Luanda’s perfume. The walk would get me home just about the time Wolfe came down from the plant rooms.

In fact, it was five minutes after six when I walked into the office, and Wolfe was already behind his desk. He scowled and set his book down, knowing that I wouldn’t let him get any reading done until I’d reported.

“Number one,” I said, “Remmers is arranging to have the trio here tomorrow afternoon. Because you didn’t give me a time, I said four. Number two, I’ve just been to see Lucinda the Hyphen, and her alibi for Wednesday night isn’t any better than Remmers’s. I assume you want it verbatim?”

Wolfe nodded and rang for beer.

“Okay, but before I start, a few observations about her,” I said, “since you trust my instincts when it comes to attractive women. And she is an attractive woman, for sure. It’s easy to see why Stevens went for her. I’m not ready to give any odds one way or the other on whether she did it, but she didn’t seem terribly unhappy. No black veils or anything like that. And she made it clear that she wouldn’t mind if we got to know each other better.”

“Indeed? Did you find out the extent of her friendship with Mr. Stevens?”

“You said to use intelligence guided by experience, didn’t you?” With that, I gave him the whole thing, word for word, although I was interrupted by two phone calls. The first was from Remmers, who reported that he had reached all three men, and they would come tomorrow at four, although he said they weren’t very enthusiastic about it, particularly Hirsch and Meyerhoff. About five minutes later, Saul called and said he and Fred were ready to report. I checked with Wolfe, who said they should come after dinner. Between the calls and Wolfe’s questions, it took well over an hour, so that when I was through, it was time to go into the dining room.

The shock of being back at work must have worn off, because I was beginning to appreciate Fritz again. His scallops were magnificent that night, and when Wolfe complimented him, his smile wrapped all the way around his face.

Saul and Fred timed it perfectly. We were just finishing our first cup of coffee in the office when the bell rang. I opened the door, helped them off with their coats, and told Saul that Lucinda had proposed to me. After they were settled in the office with coffee of their own, Saul cleared his throat and began.

“The building is fairly typical for the neighborhood,” he said. “Nine stories, brick. I talked my way in as a Buildings Department inspector making a periodic check. I’ve got a card that looks good, and it usually works.” I held back a smile and saw that Wolfe was doing the same; the left corner of his mouth was twitching.

“As to access,” Saul continued, “there’s the front door and the lobby, of course — Archie, you’ve seen those. In the lobby is one passenger elevator, automatic. Also, they have a service elevator and an interior fire stairway in the rear of the building. Both of them open on a small service lobby on the ground floor. That lobby” — Saul paused for a sip of coffee — “opens out onto a gangway that separates the building from the one next door. The only exit from the gangway is an iron gate seven feet high that fronts on Seventy-sixth Street to the left of the building as you face it. The gate has a panic bar on the inside, so anyone can get out by pushing it, but from the sidewalk, you can’t get in without a key. The doorman on duty told me he lets tradesmen in through that gate, but only after checking with tenants to make sure they’re expecting someone. He’s got a key to the gate attached to his belt by a chain, and when he goes off duty, he turns it over to the doorman or hallman on the next shift.”

“Is it possible to go from the gangway through to the next street?” Wolfe asked.

“Not without a ladder or wings. There’s a brick wall about ten feet high that separates the property from the building behind it. I’d scratch that possibility. As to staffing, this place isn’t as well covered as the big castles over on Park. There is a hallman on duty around the clock — that’s three of them in all, in eight-hour shifts. The one you mentioned, Tom Hubbard, works four to midnight weekdays. But the building has a doorman only from six in the morning to seven at night — two men each work six-and-a-half-hour shifts. If anyone needs a taxi at any other time, the hallman has to go out and flag it.”