Rex Stout - Three Doors to Death (The Rex Stout Library)

"You did? When?"

"Once in this room, because I thought she wanted me to, and she knew my wife was watching us and I didn't. So I thought I would try it."

"That's a lie!" Vera Imbrie said indignantly.

So the first crack out of the box he had one of them calling another a liar.

Neil spoke sternly to his wife. "I'm telling you, Vera, the only thing to do is tell it straight. When the cops left I thought it was all over, but I know about this man and he's tough. We're not going to do any monkeying about murder. How do I know who else saw me? I'm not going to tell him no, I never went near that girl, and then have someone else say they saw me."

"That's the spirit," Sybil said sarcastically. "We'll all confess everything. You lead the way, Neil."

But within three minutes Neil was lying, saying that his wife hadn't minded a bit catching him trying to make a pass at Dini Lauer. He maintained that she had just passed it off as a good joke.

It went on for over two hours, until my wrist-watch said five minutes to three, and I'm not saying it was dull because it was interesting to watch Wolfe bouncing the ball, first against one and then another, and it was equally interesting to see them handling the returns. But though it wasn't dull it certainly didn't seem to me that it was getting us anywhere, particularly when Wolfe was specializing in horticulture. He spent about a third of the time finding out how they felt about plants and flowers, and actually got into an argument with Joseph G. about hairy begonias. It was obvious what he had in mind, but no matter what they said it wasn't worth a damn as evidence, and I suspected him of merely passing the time waiting for Saul, and hoping against hope as the minutes dragged by.

Aside from horticulture he concentrated mainly on the character and characteristics of Dini Lauer. He tried over and over again to get them started on a free-for-all discussion of her, but they refused to oblige, even Neil Imbrie. He couldn't even get a plain unqualified statement that Sybil would have preferred to take care of her mother herself, their position apparently being that if they gave him an inch he'd want a mile. He certainly didn't get the inch.

As I glanced at my watch at five to three Wolfe pronounced my name.

"Archie. Are my socks dry?"

I went and felt them and told him just about, and he asked me to bring them to him. As he was pulling the first one on Mrs. Pitcairn spoke.

"Don't bother with the wet shoes, since you're going to sleep here. Vera, there's a pair of slippers -"

"No, thank you," Wolfe said energetically. He got the other sock on and picked up a shoe. "Thank heaven I get them big enough." He got his toes in, tugged and pushed, finally got the shoe on and tied the lace, and straightened up to rest. In a moment he tackled the second shoe. By the time he got it on the silence was as heavy as if the ceiling had come down to rest on our heads.

Pitcairn undertook to lift it. "It's nearly morning," he rasped. "We're going to bed. This has become a ridiculous farce."

Wolfe sighed from all the exertion. "It has been a farce from the beginning," he declared. He looked around at them. "But I didn't make it a farce, you did. My position is clear, logical, and invulnerable. The circumstances of Miss Lauer's death – the use of Mrs. Imbrie's morphine, the preknowledge of the fumigation, and others – made it unarguable that she was killed by a familiar of these premises. Convinced with good reason, as I was and am, that Mr. Krasicki didn't do it, it followed that one of you did. There we were and there we are. I had no notion who it was; I forced my way in here to find out; and I'm going to stay until I do – or until you expel me and face the alternative I have described. I am your dangerous and implacable enemy. I have had you together; now I'll take you one by one; and I'll start with Mrs. Pitcairn. It will soon be dawn. Do you want to take a nap first, madam?"

Mrs. Pitcairn was actually trying to smile. "I'm afraid," she said in a firm full voice, "that I made a mistake when I offered to pay you to protect us from publicity. I'm afraid it made a bad impression on you. If you misunderstood – who is that ?"

It was Saul Panzer, entering from behind the drapes where she had previously concealed herself for eavesdropping. He was right on the dot, since the arrangement had been for him to walk on at three o'clock unless he got a signal.

Most of us could get our eyes on him without turning, but Wolfe, in his chair with a high wide back, had to lean over and screw his head around. While he was doing that Donald was rising to his feet, and Joseph G. and Imbrie were both moving. I moved faster. When I had passed them I whirled and snapped, "Take it easy. He came with us and he don't bite."

They started ejaculating and demanding. Wolfe ignored them and asked Saul, "Did you find anything?"

"Yes, sir."

"Useful?"

"I think so, yes, sir." Saul extended a hand with a piece of folded paper in it.

Wolfe took it and commanded me, "Archie, your gun."

I already had it out. It wasn't desirable to have them anywhere near Wolfe while he examined Saul's find. I poked the barrel against Joseph G. and told him, "More formality. Back up."

He was still ejaculating but he went back, and the others with him, and I turned sideways enough to have all in view. Wolfe had unfolded the sheet of paper and was reading it. Saul was at his right hand, and he too was displaying a gun.

Wolfe looked up. "I should explain," he said, "how this happened. This is Mr. Saul Panzer, who works for me. When you went to the kitchen with me he entered from the greenhouse, went upstairs, and began to search. I was not satisfied that the police had been sufficiently thorough." He fluttered the paper. "This proves me right. Where did you find it, Saul?"

"I found it," Saul said distinctly, "under the mattress on the bed in the room of Mr. and Mrs. Imbrie."

Vera and Neil both made noises, and Neil came forward to where my arm stopped him.

"Take it easy," I advised him. "He didn't say who put it there, he just said where he found it."

"What is it?" Mrs. Pitcairn inquired, her voice not quite as firm.

"I'll read it," Wolfe told her. "As you see, it's a sheet of paper. The writing is in ink, and I would judge the hand to be feminine. It is dated December sixth, yesterday – no, since it's past midnight, the day before yesterday. It says:

"Dear Mr. Pitcairn:

"I suppose now I will never call you Joe, as you wanted me to. I am quite willing to put my request in writing, and I only hope you will put your answer in writing too. As I told you, I think your gift to me should be twenty thousand dollars. You have been so very sweet, but I have been sweet too, and I really think I deserve that much.

"Since I have decided to leave here and get married I don't think you should expect me to wait more than a day or two for the gift. I'll expect you in my room tonight at the usual time, and I hope you'll agree how reasonable I am."

Wolfe looked up. "It's signed 'Dini,'" he stated. "Of course it can be authenti -"

"I never saw it!" Vera Imbrie cried. "I never -"