Роберт Голдсборо - Murder in E Minor

“I was wondering the same thing,” Hirsch piped in. “And I agree with you, Charlie. This is ridiculous. Here we are in a room with a man who’s been charged with murder, and we’re going to listen to another man who isn’t even an officer of the law. And yet” — he turned to look at Cramer and Stebbins — “the police themselves show up and seem to tolerate this. It’s absurd!”

Remmers cleared his throat. “I want to say thanks to you both, and to you too, Don, for indulging me tonight. And as long as I’m here, I’d like to order, Mr. Goodwin. Scotch on the rocks, please. Am I drinking alone?”

Sommers also had a Scotch, and Lucinda ordered brandy, but the rest passed. Just as I handed out the drinks, Wolfe appeared at the door, surveyed the scene, then strode in, detouring around the crowd to get behind his desk. He bowed slightly before easing into his chair.

“I, like Mr. Remmers, appreciate your coming tonight,” he said, eyes moving from right to left and back again. “I’ve met you all except Mrs. Forrester-Moore. Madam.” He dipped his head a quarter of an inch and she nodded, smiling. “I trust you’ve all been introduced, and that you’ve met Inspector Cramer and Sergeant Stebbins?”

“Yes, and I want to know why they’re here,” Meyerhoff rasped. “This gathering wasn’t presented to us as official police business.”

“And indeed it is not, Mr. Meyerhoff,” Wolfe said. “These two gentlemen are here at my invitation and remain at my sufferance.” He raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t think any of you would object to their presence, though. Or am I incorrect?” His eyes swept the arc of faces again and were met with silence.

“Good, then we’ll go on,” he said, readjusting his bulk and ringing for beer. “One week ago tonight, as we all know, Milan Stevens was found stabbed to death in his apartment by his niece, Maria Radovich. As you also know, Mr. Goodwin had been waiting downstairs and arrived on the scene just moments later. The reason he and I knew Miss Radovich was that she had feared for the safety of her uncle and approached us for help.

“The source of her anxiety was three threatening letters her uncle had received by mail in the previous two weeks. She brought them to Mr. Goodwin and me, and they now are in the possession of the police. Miss Radovich told us her uncle had thrown these notes away and that she had retrieved them from a wastebasket. Is that correct?” he said, turning to Maria. She nodded and shifted in her chair.

“The first of the notes,” Wolfe went on, “was mailed to Mr. Stevens shortly after he and Mr. Milner had quarreled in a corridor backstage at Symphony Hall, an exchange that was witnessed by several people. Not surprisingly, news of the quarrel quickly spread throughout the Symphony structure. The subject of this argument — actually it was more a diatribe by Mr. Stevens — was Maria Radovich, whom Mr. Milner hoped to marry.” Milner’s face and neck were red, and he kept his eyes aimed at his lap.

“Simplicity itself,” Wolfe said. “The incident in the corridor, followed by the notes, and then by Mr. Milner’s visit to the Stevens apartment on a night when the uncle, who was violently opposed to the marriage, was known to be home alone.

“And then the body, discovered shortly after Mr. Milner’s visit. It would all seem to fit together, which is what the police and the district attorney’s office even now believe. In fact, it was so neat and clean that I briefly considered Mr. Milner a suspect myself. Could he not have planned and executed this murder, intentionally having all the evidence focus on him, and then argue that only a fool would so totally incriminate himself? Possibly, but he did not make that argument at any time after the murder. And I was also quick to reject this theory because, with due respect to the officers present, the police department has not been noted for its appreciation of subtlety. One might well commit a crime and purposely make all the signs point to himself in order to be thought innocent — only to have the police arrest him anyway without looking further. And in the murder of one as well-known and esteemed as Mr. Stevens, the law-enforcement establishment would be — and was — especially anxious to make a fast arrest. If there was an obvious suspect, they would quickly seize him to still the public outcry and relieve the pressure from above.

“I was also troubled by the notes. Mr. Milner may indeed possess the cunning and courage to plan and carry out a murder, but the sending of those notes made no sense. What would he gain by such action? No, the notes were intended to make Mr. Stevens suffer additionally before his death because the intensity of the murderer’s hatred for him was such that even killing was not sufficient punishment. Mr. Milner’s animus toward Mr. Stevens, if indeed it may be called that, was a recent development, brought on by their conflict over Miss Radovich. Were he the murderer, his motive would not be revenge, but simply the removal of the only obstacle to his union with Miss Radovich. And the notes were patently vengeful instruments.”

“Look, this is mildly interesting in an academic sort of way, but it really doesn’t prove a damn thing,” Meyerhoff said. “No court would give the least bit of weight to what you’ve just told us.”

“Perhaps not, sir. This was just by way of telling you why I know Mr. Milner is not the murderer. Now I—”

“Excuse me, but I’d like to ask the inspector what he thinks of your line of reasoning,” Hirsch said, twisting to face Cramer.

“I think it’s so much bull,” Cramer said, “but I’d also like to hear what else Wolfe’s got to say, so we can all go home before sunrise. I know him better than any of you, and I can say this: Nobody’s going to rush him. He’ll have his say — all of it — so if you’re smart, you’ll keep quiet and listen.”

“Thank you, Mr. Cramer,” Wolfe said. “I’m an admirer of brevity, but we’re dealing with a complex consecution of events, as you’ll see. Now, after eliminating Mr. Milner, I looked at the other possibilities: There were a number of persons known either to actively dislike Milan Stevens or to at least have reason for being less than friendly toward him.” His eyes traveled over the room again.

“Mr. Remmers, you had placed the full weight of your considerable reputation and integrity behind Mr. Stevens’s appointment as the Symphony’s music director, and the selection had turned out to be disastrous. It would hardly be surprising if you were to feel betrayed by your appointee. Mr. Meyerhoff, you had resented the new conductor’s high-handed methods and also questioned his musical depth. And Mr. Hirsch, you were bitter, perhaps with justification, because you’d wanted the music director’s job yourself, and also because your composition was ignored by Stevens. As for you, Mr. Sommers, you felt that the music director was unjustly critical of your performance and was trying to drive you from the orchestra.” Sommers nodded but said nothing. “Miss Radovich, you were unhappy because your uncle was violently opposed to your choice of a mate.” Maria recoiled like she’d been slapped, and started to say something, but checked herself as Wolfe went on. “Mrs. Forrester-Moore, you were frustrated because you did not receive a proposal of marriage from Mr. Stevens.”

“That is simply not true!” Lucinda said, leaning forward and clenching her fists. “I know that’s been said around town, but it’s cruel and it’s wrong. As I told Archie — Mr. Goodwin — when he came to see me, I didn’t want to get married again any more than Milan did. I won’t deny I was fond of him, but marriage... no, not at all. You can believe that or not, as you choose.”