Rex Stout - Some Buried Caesar

He was still dormant. I sat down and yawned, and said: "It is in the; bag. Lily killed him, thinking that by erasing evi- dence of her past she could purify herself and perhaps some day be worthy of me. Caroline killed him to practise her fellow-through. Jimmy killed him to erase Lily's past, making twice for that one motive. Pratt killed him to annoy Mr. Os- good. McMillan killed him because the substitute he brought for Caesar proved to be a cow. Dave killed him-"

"Confound it, Archie, shut up."

"Yes, sir. I'll close it forever and seal the crack with rubber cement the minute you explain at what time and by what process you got this nice little case like that." I doubled my fist, but the gesture was wasted because he didn't open his eyes.

He was in bad shape, for he muttered mildly, "I did have it like that."

"What became of it?"

"It went up in fire and smoke."

"The bull motif again. Phooey. Try and persuade me… and incidentally, why don't you stop telling people that I steered your car into a tree and demolished it? What good do you expect to accomplish by puerile paroxysms like that? To go back to this case you've dragged us into through your absolute frenzy to find an adequate chair to sit on, I suppose now it's hopeless? I suppose these hicks are going to enjoy the refreshing sight of Nero Wolfe heading south Thursday morning with his tail between his legs? Or shall I go on with the list until I offer one that strikes your fancy? Dave killed him because he missed breakfast the day he was fired two years ago and has never caught up. Bronson killed him… by the way, I just saw Mr. Bronson-"

"Bronson?"

"Yep. In the library reading a newspaper as if he owned the place."

"Go and get him." Wolfe stirred and his eyes threatened to open. "Bring him here."

"Now?"

"Now."

I arose and sallied forth. But on my way downstairs it oc- curred to me that I might as well make arrangements in case of a prolonged session, so I went to the kitchen first and ab- ducted a pitcher of Advanced Register Guernsey milk from the refrigerator. With that in my hand, I strutted on to the library and told Bronson I hated to interrupt him but that Mr. Wolfe had expressed a desire for his company.

He looked amused and put down his newspaper and said he had begun to fear he was going to be slighted.

"No sirree," I said. "He'll banish that fear easy."

13

HE SAT in the chair McMillan had vacated and continued to look tolerably amused. Wolfe, im- movable, with his eyes nearly shut, appeared to be more than half asleep, which may or may not have deceived Bronson but didn't deceive me. I yawned. With the angle of the light striking Bronson as it did, his nose looked blunter than it had on the veranda, as if it had at some time been permanently pushed, and his clever gray eyes looked smaller.

Finally he said in a cultivated tone, "I understood you wanted to ask me something."

Wolfe nodded. "Yes, sir. Were you able to overhear much of my conversation with Miss Osgood this afternoon?"

"Not a great deal. In fact, very little." Bronson smiled. "What was that for, to see if I would make an effort at in- dignation? Let me suggest… we won't really need finesse. I know a little something about you, I'm aware of your re- sources, but I have a few myself. Why don't we just agree that you're not a fool and neither am I?"

"Indeed." Wolfe's lids had lifted so that his eyes were more than slits. "Are you really a coolheaded man? There are so few."

"I'm fairly intelligent."

"Then thank heaven we can discuss facts calmly, without a lot of useless pother… facts which I have got from Miss Osgood. For instance, that you are what Mr. Osgood-and many other people-would call an unscrupulous blackguard."

"I don't…" Bronson flipped a hand. "Oh, well. Calling names…"

"Just so. I can excoriate stupidity, and often do, because it riles me, but moral indignation is a dangerous indulgence. Ethology is a chaos. Financial banditry, for example… I either condemn it or I don't; and if I do, without prejudice, where will I find jailers? No. My only excuse for labeling you an unscrupulous blackguard is the dictionary, and I do it to clarify our positions. I'm in the detective business, and you're in the blackguard business… and I want to consult with you about both. I am counting on you to help me in my investiga- tion of a murder, and I also have a suggestion to make regard- ing one of your projects-the one that brought you here. Regarding the murder-"

"Perhaps we'd better take the last one first and get it out of the way. I'm always open to a reasonable suggestion."

"As you please, sir." Wolfe's lips pushed out, and in again. "You have a paper signed by Clyde Osgood. You showed it to Miss Osgood this morning."

"A receipt for money I paid him."

"Specifying the services he was to perform in return."

"Yes."

"The performance of which would render him likewise a blackguard… in the estimation of his father."

"That's right."

Wolfe stirred. "I want that paper. Now wait. I offer no challenge to your right to expect your money back. I concede that right. But I don't like your methods of collection. You may have a right to them too, but I do not like them. Miss Osgood aroused my admiration this afternoon, which is rare for a woman, and I want to relieve the pressure on her. I propose that you hand the paper to Mr. Goodwin; it will be safe in his custody. Within 10 days at the outside I shall either pay you the $10,000, or have it paid, or return the paper to you. I make that pledge without reservation." Wolfe aimed a thumb at me. "Give it to him."

The blackguard shook his head, slowly and positively. "I said a reasonable suggestion."

"You won't do it?"

"No."

"The security is superlative. I rarely offer pledges, because I would redeem one, tritely, with my life."

"I couldn't use your life. The security you offer may be good, but the paper signed by Osgood is better, and it be- longs to me. Why the deuce should I give it up?"

I looked at Wolfe inquiringly. "I'd be glad to under- take-"

"No, thanks, Archie. We'll pass it, at least for the present. – I hope, Mr. Bronson, that your antagonism will find-"

"I'm not antagonistic," Bronson interrupted. "Don't get me wrong. I said I'm not a fool, and I would be a fool to an- tagonize you. I know very well I'm vulnerable, and I know what you can do. If I make an enemy of you I might as well leave New York. I've only been there two months, but if you wanted to take the trouble to trace me back I don't deny you could do it. You wouldn't find that a cell is waiting for me anywhere, but you could collect enough to make it damned hard going… too hard. I've had a bad break on this Clyde Osgood thing, but I can try again and expect better luck, and God knows I don't want you hounding me, and you wouldn't go to the expense and trouble just for the fun of it. Believe me, I'm not antagonistic. You have no right to get sore about my not surrendering that paper, because it's mine, but otherwise I'm for you. If I can help any I will."

"No finesse, Mr. Bronson?"