Rex Stout - Over My Dead Body

John P.'s lips twitched. "Where did you get that?"

"That doesn't matter, Mr Barrett. Not now." Wolfe went on to Cramer, "Specifically, transactions regarding concessions in Bosnian forests and the transfer of credits held by a firm of international bankers, Barrett amp; De Russy. The princess came to New York incognito, under an alias, and started negotiations. Because secrecy was essential on account of American restrictions regarding the export of capital in the form of loans, and I suspect other skulduggery besides the violations of those restrictions, she even went to the trouble of pretending to be an immigrant and getting a job in a fencing school. I don't suppose many persons were aware of her true identity, but certainly three were: Mr Barrett here and his son, and a man named Rudolph Faber, who was assisting in the negotiations as a secret agent of the Nazi Government. You see, Barrett amp; De Russy have financial relations with the Nazis."

Donald began explosively, "We merely act-" But a glance from his father shut him up again.

Wolfe nodded. "I know. Money and morals don't speak. But a British agent named Ludlow got on to it. He not only got on to the princess and what she was up to, he even threatened-I don't know how, but possibly by informing the American Government-to ruin the deal. And that just at the moment when all details had been decided and it was ready for consummation. So she killed Ludlow. I want to make it plain that the princess did that herself. A friend, another young woman, had come from Zagreb with her, also under an alias, but she had no part in the murder. You understand that, Mr Cramer?"

Cramer muttered, "Go on."

"There isn't a lot to go on with. Rudolph Faber knew what the princess had done, and he blackmailed her. Up to last evening he had been merely a negotiator, a bidder; that made him boss. He imposed terms on her, and I imagine they weren't generous; he didn't strike me as a generous man. He forced her to tell where that paper was and he tried to get it. The paper was, of course, vital. I presume, Mr Barrett, it was to be attached to the agreement you were drawing up, to validate it?"

John P. didn't answer.

Wolfe shrugged. "So she killed Faber. She made an appointment to meet him in her own apartment and stabbed him. God only knows what she thought she was going to do next. There is no way of telling what goes on in that kind of a head. She seems to be as heedless and hare-brained as a lunatic. She may have counted on the taciturnity of governments and international financiers regarding their privy intrigues, but what the devil did she take me for-a goat on a chain? A creature like that is outside the realm of calculation. I wouldn't have been surprised if she had tried to stab me. Were you able to deal with her on a rational basis, Mr Barrett?"

John P. was regarding him steadily. "I'm waiting for you to say something."

"That's about all there is."

"Bah. You've made a lot of loose accusations, with nothing to support them."

"There's that paper."

"You stole it."

"I didn't. But what if I did? There it is, for evidence."

"Damn flimsy evidence for two murders."

"I know." Wolfe wiggled a finger at him. "See here, Mr Barrett, you're making a blunder. I made a serious threat. I said that a warrant would issue charging your son with murder. I meant, of course, as accessory, which is the same thing. It's obvious that he knew the Princess Vladanka had killed Ludlow. You probably knew it too, but I have no proof that you tried actively to cheat the law. I have got proof that your son did, and three witnesses: Belinda Reade, Madame Zorka, and Mr Goodwin, my assistant-"

"That was only-"

"Quiet, son." John P. didn't move his eyes from Wolfe. "What else?"

"Nothing to stun you with, I'm afraid. Frankly, sir, I have no bomb to explode under you. But the point is this: Mr Cramer here doesn't like murder. He doesn't like to see it practised with impunity under any circumstances whatever, but in this case he was impeded by a wall of reluctance which he couldn't possibly have breached. By luck I had made a hole in the wall, and I've let him through, and if you knew him as I do you would realize that he can't be chased out again. He has it now, and he'll hang on to it, unless you can get him ditched, which I doubt. He has that paper, and he'll arrest the princess, so your deal's off anyway. He has enough to take your son as a material witness. With that paper, he can get a court order to examine your records and correspondence. But you know as well as I do what this will mean if you try to fight it. If you try to shield a murderess from the penalty she has earned. The fact is. "

I missed some then because I had to answer the doorbell. It was Charlie Heath. He started for the office as if he owned the place, but I blocked him off and demanded, "Would you mind explaining what it was that took so long?"

"I'll report to the inspector."

"He's busy, and you'll wait in here." I opened the door to the front room, where Fred Durkin was sitting with a magazine. "What used up all the time?"

"Nothing used it up. I mean I got back ten minutes ago. I've been out front."

"You have?"

"I have."

"Okay. Wait here."

I went back to the office and ran into a scowling match, and took advantage of it to report the return of Heath. All Cramer did was to favour me with five seconds of his share of the scowl. Wolfe didn't even look at me. Apparently he was still trying to undermine Barrett without a bomb and was finding it hard digging.

"No," he said, "I wouldn't expect that. We don't expect much from you, Mr Barrett, in any event. But you seem to have overlooked one thing, at least: You seem to be ignoring the existence of a person who knows as much about all this as the princess herself does. Including your part in it, and your son's part. I mean, of course, the friend who came here with the princess from Zagreb."

"Maybe he's ignoring it," Cramer put in, "but I'm not. And you let her go, and gave her money to go with. That was cute."

"No," Wolfe asserted, "I did not."

Cramer stared. Wolfe said, "Archie, get that package from the safe and give it to Mr Cramer."

I went and got it and handed it over. Cramer started to unfold it.

That," Wolfe said, "is the photograph of the Princess Vladanka Donevitch, radioed from London. If I had only got it this morning-"

Cramer jumped up, sputtering, "What kind of a goddam run-around-this is that Tormic-"

"Now, please!" Wolfe pushed a palm at him. "Yes, it is Miss Tormic. I agreed-"

"And she's-and, by God, you had one of my men take her and turn her loose-"

"I did. What else could I do? She was sitting here in my office, thinking she was my client, under my protection. I didn't agree to catch the murderer for you. I agreed to disclose the identity and the motive. If you'll take my advice, the simplest way to get her-"

But Cramer wasn't taking advice. He nearly knocked me out of my chair, getting at the phone. Father and son sat tight. Wolfe looked up at the clock and heaved a sigh. Cramer got his number and began spouting orders to someone. I picked up the radiophoto of the princess and laid it on Wolfe's desk, and gathered up the wrapping paper and put it in the waste-basket.

Cramer finished and stood up and yapped at Wolfe, "If we don't get her I'll-"

"It was a bargain," Wolfe snapped.

"One hell of a bargain." He moved for the door, turned, and spoke to the Barretts: "I'll want to see you. If you try setting a fire under me, I'll give you all I've got." He went and I was right behind him. While he grabbed his coat and hat I got Heath from the front room, always glad to get cops out of the house, from the flatfoots on up. I followed them out to the stoop, leaving the door ajar, and watched the army that had been surrounding the house being called into action. Cramer waved them in and gave them curt and crackling orders. His own car had to back up a few feet before it could nose around the rear of the Barrett town car. The taxi down the street rolled up, then it and Heath's car sped away. Cramer's car started, then stopped, and my name was called: