Rex Stout - A Right to Die

'They don't stand. You won't see them tomorrow. There's no one to see."

"No one at all?"

"No. If you want details, Richard Ault's father, Benjamin Ault, Junior, has a furniture factory, a big one. He inherited it from his father, Benjamin Senior. Benjamin Junior died about ten years ago. Let's see…" He shut his eyes and lowered his head. He looked up. 'That's right, nineteen fifty-three. You don't believe in making notes, huh? Out here we always make notes."

"So do I when they may be needed. What about brothers or sisters?"

He shook his head. "Richard was an only."

"There's still Mrs. Ault. Where is she?"

"I don't know, and I don't know who does. There's a lawyer who might named Littauer, H. Ernest Littauer. He handled it when she sold the factory."

I had my notebook out and was scribbling. When in Evansville do as the Romans do. "I need all the dope I can get," I said. "Am I keeping you from anything important?"

"Hell no. Not until the phone rings to report a hit and run."

"I hope it won't. When did Mrs. Ault sell the factory?"

"About three years ago. When Benjamin Junior died, her husband, she changed the name of the business to M. and R. Ault, Inc. M for Marjorie and R for Richard. Then a couple of years after Richard's death she sold it and left town. As far as I know she has never been back, and I don't know where she is. You do shorthand, huh?"

"I guess you could call it that to be polite. I understand Richard went to Harvard University."

"I believe he did. Let's see." In a moment: "Yes, he did."

"Do you happen to know if his mother ever went to visit him there?"

He cocked his head and eyed me. "You know, maybe I'm not as sharp as you are, out here in the sticks, but I can count up to ten. A point in a case his family might know about, nuts. Suppose you open up a little, huh?"

I nodded. "I intend to, but I wasn't being sharp. If you had told me she's here in Evansville I wouldn't even have bothered to take a look at her. I'm about done. Did she ever visit him at Harvard?"

"I don't know, but it would be a good bet. He was the apple of her eye."

I took a breath. "Now. I hate to ask it. I'm afraid to ask it, but here goes. Describe her."

"I thought so," he said.

"I only hope you'll still think so after you describe her."

"Well, three years ago, about a hundred and forty pounds. Late forties or early fifties. Five feet six. Light brown hair with a little gray. Brown eyes, a little close. Not much of a mouth. Long narrow nose, extra narrow. Not exactly a double chin, but a crease in it. That enough?"

"I'm not much at paying compliments," I said, "but you are absolutely the best describer south of the North Pole. I could have saved wear and tear on my nerves by asking for it sooner. One more question. Would you care to take a trip to New York this morning, expenses paid and honored guest treatment?"

"You're damn right I would. But I'm an employee of the city of Evansville. What have you got on Mrs. Ault?"

"You're an officer of the law, dedicated to the service of justice, and you're needed to identify a murderer-a double murderer. I'm sticking my neck out. If you call the New York Police Department and spill it, my name is mud, and I doubt if you'll be needed. If you come with me, justice will be served just as well or better, you can hang around a day or two if you care to, and if you like to see your picture in the paper, the Gazette has a circulation of over a million. Of course if Evansville couldn't manage even for an hour without you.."

"You don't have to clown it, Goodwin. Is this straight, Marjorie Ault is a murderer?"

"My neck's out far enough."

"When are you leaving?"

"There's a plane from Louisville at five p.m. I have a car I rented there. I'd like to ask that lawyer, Littauer, a couple of questions." I stood. "How long have you been on the force?"

"Twenty-six years."

"Then what the hell, you don't have to spell your name. I would deeply appreciate it if you'd leave the monkey wrench in the drawer. Say we leave at one-thirty?"

He wasn't sure, he would ring me around noon, but from the look in his eye and the grip in his hand as we shook I was satisfied that I would have a companion for the trip home.

It was exactiy three o'clock when, after leaving a call for seven-forty-five, I got between sheets in the hotel room, and I certainly needed a nap, but there was something on my mind. Not whether it was in the bag, that was okay, but how we got it. Had it been luck or genius or what? It had been years since I had given up trying to figure how Wolfe's mind worked, but this was special. I hadn't happened to notice that there was an au in four of the names: Paul, Ault, Maud, and Vaughn, but I might have; anybody might. That was nothing special. The point was, if I had noticed it, then what? I would have filed it as just coincidence, and probably Wolfe had too. But although filed, that au in four of the names was still somewhere in his mind later, when it got really tough, so in going over and over it, every detail and every factor, that popped up. Okay, but then what? Did he deliberately team them up?

Paul and Ault

Paul and Maud

Paul and Vaughn

Ault and Maud

Ault and Vaughn

Maud and Vaughn

Then did he consider each pair and finally decide that the one that might not be just coincidence was Ault and Maud, because if a woman named Ault changed her name she might pick one that had au in it? No. I could have done that myself. I hadn't, but I could. What had happened in his mind that had made him phone Samuel Vaughn and Otto Drucker, and send me to Evansville, was something that had never happened in mine and never would. He had said "tenuous almost to nullity." But there I was in Evansville, and I knew who had killed Susan Brooke and Peter Vaughn, and probably I never would have known if Wolfe hadn't started reflecting on a diphthong. Reflecting that I had been wasting some precious time, I turned over to go to sleep, but jor butted in. She had not only used the Ault au in Maud, she had also used the Marjorie jor in Jordan. If Wolfe had known Mrs. Ault's name was Marjorie he would have sewed it up a week ago. On that I slept.

I had left a call for 7:45 because on 35th Street it would be 8:45 and I wanted to get Wolfe before he went up to the plant rooms. I did. Fritz answered and relayed it to Wolfe's room, and his voice came, gruff.

"Yes?"

"Me. I've had four hours' sleep and I need more, so I'll make it brief. If I talked for an hour you'd like every word of it. Wrapped up. Not a single snag. Reserve a room at the Churchill for Mr. George Sievers." I spelled it. "He'll arrive around eight-thirty this evening and so will I. Tell Fritz not to keep my dinner warm; I'll eat with Sievers on the plane."

"Are there any relatives in Evansville?"

"No. She's alone in the world, as she told you."

He grunted. "Very satisfactory." He hung up.

Sometimes I think he overdoes it. I admit everything had been said that needed saying, but he might at least have asked how the weather was or if my bed was all right. It was. I rolled over and went back to sleep.