Rex Stout - Too Many Cooks

Paul Whipple was already on his way to the door. Moulton hesitated only an instant, glancing at Tolman, and then followed. I got up and moseyed out to see that the outside door was shut behind them.

When I got back Pettigrew was in the middle of some remarks, using whatever words happened to come handy, regarding the tribal customs and personal habits of aborigines. Tolman was back on his shoulders with his hands thrust in his pockets, surveying Wolfe, and Wolfe was daintily collecting crumbs and depositing them on the fruit plate. Neither was paying any attention to the sheriff, and eventually he fizzed out.

Wolfe looked up. “Well, sir?”

Tolman nodded. “Yep, I guess you win. It looks like they’re telling the truth. They can make up fancy ones when they feel like it, but this doesn’t sound like their kind.” His blue eyes narrowed a little. “Of course, there’s something else to consider. I understand you’ve been appealed to, to get Berin clear, and also I’ve heard that you were offered a good commission to get Berin for the job that Laszio had. I learned that from Clay Ashley, who had it from his friend Liggett of the Hotel Churchill. Naturally that raises the question as to how far you yourself might go in discovering evidence that would free Berin.”

“You put it delicately.” The corners of Wolfe’s lips went up a little. “You mean manufacturing evidence. I assure you I’m not that stupid or that desperate, to bribe strangers to tell intricate lies. Besides, I would have had to bribe not two men, but fourteen. Those stories were uncovered in this room last night, in the presence of all the cooks and waiters on duty at Pocahontas Pavilion. You may question them all. No, sir; those stories are bona fide.” He upturned a palm. “But you know that; you put them to a good test. And now-since you were anxious to return to Quinby in time for your appearance in court-”

“Yeah, I know.” Tolman didn’t move. “This is a sweet mess now, this murder. If those niggers are telling it straight, and I guess they are, do you realize what it means? Among other things, it means that all of that bunch are out of it, except that fellow Blanc who says he was in his room. And he’s a stranger here, and how the devil could he have got hold of a Kanawha Spa uniform? If you eliminate him, all you’ve got left is the wide world.”

Wolfe murmured, “Yes, it’s a pretty problem. Thank goodness it isn’t mine. But as to our agreement-I’ve performed my part, haven’t I? Have I cast strong doubt on Mr. Berin’s guilt?”

The sheriff snorted. Tolman said shortly, “Yes. The fact that those sauce dishes were shifted around-certainly. But damn it, who shifted them?”

“I couldn’t say. Perhaps the murderer, or possibly Mr. Laszio himself, to make a fool of Berin.” Wolfe shrugged. “Quite a job for you. You will set Berin free this morning?”

“What else can I do? I can’t hold him now.”

“Good. Then if you don’t mind… since you’re in a hurry, and I haven’t been to bed…”

“Yeah.” Tolman stayed put. He sat with his hands still in his pockets, his legs stretched out, the toes of his shoes making little circles in the air. “A hell of a mess,” he declared after a silence. “Except for Blanc, there’s nowhere to begin. That nigger’s description might be almost anyone. Of course, it’s possible that it was a nigger that did it and used black gloves and burnt cork to throw us off, but what nigger around here could have any reason for wanting to kill Laszio?” He was silent again. Finally he abruptly sat up. “Look here. I’m not sorry you got Berin out of it, whether you made it into a mess or not. And I’ll meet the conditions I agreed to, including no interference with your leaving here tonight. But since you’re turning over evidence, what else have you got? I admit you’re good and you’ve made a monkey out of me on this Berin business-not to mention the sheriff here. Maybe you can come across with some more of the same. What more have you found out?”

“Nothing whatever.”

“Have you any idea who it was the niggers saw in the dining room?”

“None.”

“Do you think that Frenchman did it? Blanc?”

“I don’t know. I doubt it.”

“The Chinese woman who was outdoors-do you think she was mixed up in it?”

“No.”

“Do you think the radio being turned on at that particular time had anything to do with it?”

“Certainly. It drowned the noise of Laszio’s fall-and his outcry, if he made one.”

“But was it turned on purposely-for that?”

“I don’t know.”

Tolman frowned. “When I had Berin, or thought I had, I decided that the radio was a coincidence, or a circumstance that he took advantage of. Now that’s open again.” He leaned forward at Wolfe. “I want you to do something for me. I don’t pass for a fool, but I admit I’m a little shy on experience, and you’re not only an old hand, you’re recognized as one of the best there is. I’m not too proud to yell for help if I need it. It looks like the next step is a good session with Blanc, and I’d like to have you in on it. Better still, handle it yourself and let me sit and listen. Will you do that?”

“No, sir.”

Tolman was taken aback. “You won’t?”

“No. I won’t even discuss it. Confound it, I came down here for a holiday!” Wolfe made a face. “Monday night, on the train, I got no sleep. Tuesday night it was you who kept me up until four o’clock. Last night my engagement to clear Mr. Berin prevented my going to bed at all. This evening I am supposed to deliver an important address to a group of eminent men, on their own subject. I need the refreshment of sleep, and there is my bed. As for your interview with Mr. Blanc, I remind you that you agreed to free Mr. Berin immediately upon presentation of my evidence.”

He looked and sounded very final. The sheriff started to growl something, but I was called away by a knock on the door. I went to the foyer, telling myself that if it was anyone who was likely to postpone the refreshment of sleep any longer, I would lay him out with a healthy sock on the button and just leave him there.

Which might have done for Vukcic, big as he was, but I wouldn’t strike a woman merely because I was sleepy, and he was accompanied by Constanza Berin. I flung the door the rest of the way and she crossed the threshold. Vukcic began a verbal request, but she wasn’t bothering with amenities, she was going right ahead.

I reached for her and missed her. “Hey, wait a minute! We have company. Your friend Barry Tolman is in there.”

She wheeled on me. “Who?”

“You heard me. Tolman.”

She wheeled again and opened the door to Wolfe’s room and breezed on through. Vukcic looked at me and shrugged, and followed her, and I went along, thinking that if I needed a broom and dustpan I could get them later.

Tolman had jumped to his feet at sight of her. For two seconds he was white, then a nice pink, and then he started for her:

“Miss Berin! Thank God-”

An icy blast hit him and stopped him in his tracks with his mouth open. It wasn’t vocal; her look didn’t need any accompaniment. With him frozen, she turned a different look, practically as devastating, on Nero Wolfe: