Rex Stout - A Right to Die

"I'm not going to 'put it on' anybody, Mr. Henchy. I'm going to find the man who 'put it on' himself a week ago. I'll begin with you, Miss Jordan."

"Me?" Her mouth stayed open.

"Yes. A vital point is the telephone call by Miss Brooke and the message Mr. Whipple found on his desk shortly before six o'clock. Did you put the message on his desk?"

"Yes. I have told the police all about it."

"Certainly. You received the call by Miss Brooke?"

"Yes. At the switchboard."

"What time did the call come?"

"At a quarter past five. I put it on the slip, five-fifteen."

"What did she say?"

"She wanted to speak to Mr. Whipple, and I said he was in a conference, and she told me to tell him that she couldn't get there until nine o'clock or a little later."

"Can you give me her exact words?"

She frowned, making her long thin nose look longer. "I have tried to. To the police. When I said, 'Rights of Citizens Committee,' she said, 'This is Susan, Maud. Please give me Mr. Whipple.' I said, 'He's in conference in Mr. Henchy's room, the people from Philadelphia and Chicago,' and she said, 'Then will you tell him I won't be able to get there until nine or a little later?' I said, 'I leave at five-thirty. Will it be all right if I leave a message on his desk?' and she said, 'Yes, of course.' She hung up."

Wolfe glanced at me, saw that I was getting it in the notebook, and returned to her. "On the next point it's regrettable that you have already been questioned by the police, but it can't be helped. Probably it is now fixed in your mind, but I must ask anyway. How sure are you that it was Miss Brooke speaking?"

She nodded. "It was her. They wanted to know if I would swear to it on the witness stand, and I told them I couldn't swear it was her because I didn't see her, but if it was someone imitating her voice I would have to hear her do it again before I would believe it."

"Her using your first name was customary?"

"Yes."

"At the time, as she spoke, you noticed no oddity whatever?"

"No. Of course not."

"You say 'of course,' Miss Jordan, because your mind is now fixed. You have committed yourself. That's a pity, since I have no ground at present for a demur." Wolfe looked right and left. "This is patently crucial. If only I had spoken with Miss Jordan before she committed herself to the police. If I assume that Mr. Whipple is innocent, as I do, I must also assume that Miss Brooke did not make that telephone call. Either that or-"

"No," Oster said, "not necessarily. She might have made it and got there earlier than she expected to. The question is, did she get there before Whipple, and how long before, and on that there is evidence. She was in that neighborhood, at a package store and a delicatessen, before eight o'clock. So she was there before Whipple came, probably about an hour, and that's the point."

Wolfe was shaking his head. "That is not the point. Take the murderer. Since he was not Dunbar Whipple, call him X. He knew about the apartment and that Miss Brooke would be there early in the evening, so in all likelihood he knew that Mr. Whipple would be there too. Would he have entered-presumably admitted by Miss Brooke-and clubbed her to death if Whipple might come at any moment? I don't believe it. He was done for if Whipple arrived, not only while he was in the apartment, but while he was descending two flights of stairs and leaving the building. I reject it. I think X knew that telephone call had been made and that Whipple would not come until later. Either he knew that Miss Brooke had made the call, or he had himself made it, imitating Miss Brooke's voice-in which case it is she, not he-or he had a confederate who made the call. So, Miss Jordan, we need you for another point. Who besides you knew of that call?"

"Nobody." The crease in her chin and a half was deeper because her jaw was set. "I told you, I took it at the switchboard."

"Did you mention it to anyone?"

"No."

"It came at five-fifteen. Did you write the message on the slip immediately?"

"Yes. I would be leaving in a few minutes."

"When did you take the message to Mr. Whipple's room?"

"When I left. Just before I left."

"Could anyone have seen it there at the switchboard, on your desk or table?"

"No. There was nobody there until just before I left, and then I had it in my hand."

"Was anyone in Mr. Whipple's room when you went there with it?"

"No."

"You put it on his desk in plain sight?"

"Of course. So he would see it. Under a paperweight."

Wolfe's eyes went to the executive director. "Mr. Henchy. Dunbar Whipple told me that the conference ended a little after six o'clock. Is that correct?"

Henchy nodded. "Five or ten minutes after six."

"Was anyone here present, besides you, at the conference?"

"Yes. Mr. Ewing, Mr. Faison, and Mr. Oster."

"Did any of you four leave the room after half past five, before the conference ended?"

Adam Ewing exploded. "This is poppycock! You grilling us! "

Wolfe regarded him. "I believe, sir, you are in charge of what is called 'public relations' for your organization. Surely it is in its interest, if Dunbar Whipple is innocent, to have the murderer exposed and dealt with as soon as possible. You don't want it to be someone now in this room, and neither do I. I have contributed to the Rights of Citizens Committee-how much, Archie?"

"Fifty dollars a year for the past seven years." I slanted a glance at Miss Tiger to see if she was impressed. Apparently not.

"But that telephone call is a vital point, and if Miss Brooke made it I must know who might have learned about it. Mr. Oster, I told you that if you wished to object to anything I say, you have a tongue. Do you object to this?"

"No," the lawyer said. "I think it's immaterial, but this isn't a courtroom."

"It may be immaterial. Shall I repeat the question, Mr. Henchy?"

"No. I'll answer for myself. I was in the room continuously until the conference ended."

"I wasn't," Cass Faison said. I had him in profile, and the light glancing off his black cheek gave it a high gloss. "I had an appointment and left about a quarter to six."

"Did you enter Mr. Whipple's room?"

"No. I want to say, I doubt if Dunbar Whipple killed her, not with a club like that, but if he did I hope he gets the chair. Whoever killed Susan Brooke, whether he's here in this room or not, I hope he gets it."

"So do I," Ewing snapped. "We all do." He aimed his sharp brown eyes at Wolfe. "If Oster doesn't object, I don't. I was out of the room for a few minutes, to go to the men's room, and it may have been after five-thirty. I don't know. I didn't enter Whipple's room, and I knew nothing about the phone call or message."

"Then I need not grill you. Mr. Oster, if you don't object, you were at the conference?"

"Yes. Like Mr. Henchy, continuously. I learned about the phone call from Miss Jordan the next morning."