Rex Stout - Red Box, The

Llewellyn had arisen and moved to her chair. He was holding himself in. “Come on, Helen,” he entreated her. “Come on, get out of here…”

She reached up and touched his sleeve, and shook her head without looking at him. “Sit down, Lew,” she told him. “Please. I deserve it.” There was a spot of color on the cheek I could see.

“No. Come on.”

She shook her head again. Tm going to stay.”

“I'm not.” He shot out his chin in Wolfe's direction. “Look here, I apologized to you. All right, I owed you that. But now I want to say.,. that thing I signed here Tuesday…I'm giving you notice I'm done with that. I'm not paying you ten thousand dollars, because I haven't got it and you haven't earned it. I can pay a reasonable amount whenever you send a bill. The deal's off.”

Wolfe nodded and murmured, “I expected that, of course. The suspicions you hired me to substantiate have evaporated. The threat of molestation of your cousin, caused by her admission that she had seen the box of candy, no longer exists.

Half of your purpose is accomplished, since your cousin will not work any more-at least, not at Mr. McNair's. As for the other half, to continue the investigation of the murder of Molly Lauck would mean of necessity an inquiry into Mr. McNair's death also, and that might easily result in something highly distasteful to a Frost. That's the logic of it, for you, perfectly correct; and if I expected to collect even a fair fraction of my fee I shall probably have to sue you for it.” He sighed, and leaned back. “And you stampeded me to 52nd

Street with that confounded letter. Good day, sir. I don't blame you; but I shall certainly send you a bill for ten thousand dollars. I know what you are thinking: that you won't be sued because I won't go to a courtroom to testify.

You are correct; but I shall certainly send you a bill.”

“Go ahead. Come on, Helen.”

She didn't budge. She said quietly, “Sit down, Lew.”

“What for? Come on! Did you hear what he said about distasteful to a Frost'?

Don't you see it's him that has started the police after us as if we were all a bunch of murderers? And that he started it on account of something that McNair said to him yesterday before-before it happened? Just as Dad said, and Aunt

Callie too? Do you wonder they wouldn't let you come down here unless I came along? I'm not saying McNair told him any lies, I'm just saying-”

“Lew! Stop it!” She wasn't loud, but determined. She put a hand on his sleeve again. “Listen, Lew. You know very well that all the misunderstandings we've ever had have been about Uncle Boyd. Don't you think we might stop having them, now that he's dead? I told Mr. Wolfe yesterday…he…he was the finest man I have ever known…I don't expect you to agree with that…but it's true. I know he didn't like you, and I honestly thought that was the only thing he was wrong about.” She stood up and put a hand on each of his arms. “You're a fine man, too, Lew. You have lots of fine things in you. But I loved Uncle Boyd.” She shut her lips tight and nodded her head up and down several times. Finally she swallowed, and went on, “He was a grand person…he was. He gave me what common sense I've got, and it was him that kept me from being just a complete silly fool…” She tightened her lips again, and then again went on, “He always used to say…whenever I…I…”

She turned away abruptly and sat down, lowered her face into her palms, and began to cry.

Llewellyn started at her: “Now, Helen, for God's sake, I know how you feel-”

I growled at him, “Sit down and shut up. Can it!”

He was going to keep on comforting her. I bounced up and grabbed his shoulder and whirled him. “You're not a client here any more. Don't argue. Didn't I tell you scenes make me nervous?” I left him glaring and went to the cabinet and got a shot of brandy and a glass of cold water, and went and stood alongside Helen

Frost's chair. Pretty soon she got quieter, and then fished a handkerchief out of her bag and began dabbing. I waited until she could see to tell her:

“Brandy. 1890 Guarnier. Shall I put water in it?”

She shook her head and reached for it and gulped it down nicely. I offered her the water and she took a swallow of that. Then she looked at Nero Wolfe and said, “You'll have to excuse me. I'm not asking for any tenderness, but you'll have to excuse me.” She looked at her cousin. “I'm not going to talk to you about Uncle Boyd any more. It doesn't do any good, does it? It's foolish.” She dabbed at her eyes again, took in a long trembling breath and let it out, and turned back to Wolfe.

She said, “I don't care what Uncle Boyd told you about us Frosts. It couldn't have been anything very terrible, because he wouldn't tell lies. I don't care if you're working with the police, either. There couldn't be anything more…more distasteful to a Frost than what has happened. Anyway, the police never found out anything at all about Molly Lauck, and you did.”

Her tears had dried. She went on, I'm sorry I didn't tell you…of course I'm sorry. I thought I was keeping a secret for Uncle Boyd, but I'm sorry anyway. I only wish there was anything else I could tell you…but anyway…I can do this.

This is the only time I've been truly glad I have lots of money. I'll pay you anything to find out who killed Uncle Boyd. Anything, and…and you won't have to sue me for it.”.

I got her glass and went to the cabinet to get her some more brandy. I grinned at the bottle as I poured, reflecting that this case was turning out to be just one damned client after another.

Chapter Eleven

Llewellyn was expostulating. “But, Helen, it's a police job. Not that he could be any more offensive than the police are, but it's a police job and let them do it. Anyway, Dad and Aunt Gallic will be sore as the devil, you know they will, you know how they went after me when I…Tuesday.”

Helen said, “I don't care if they're sore. It's not their money, it's mine. I'm doing this. Of course I won't be of age until next month-does that matter, Mr.

Wolfe? Is that all right?”

“Quite all right.”

“Will you do it?”

“Will I accept your commission? In spite of my experience with another Frost as a client, yes.”

She turned to her ortho-cousin. “You do as you please, Lew. Go on home and tell them if you want to. But I…I'd like to have you…”

He was frowning at her. “Are you set on this?”

“Yes. Good and set.”

“Okay.” He settled back in his chair. “I stick here. I'm for the Frosts, but you're the first one on the list. You're… Oh, nothing.” He flushed a little.

“Go to it.”

“Thank you, Lew.” She turned to Wolfe. “I suppose you want me to sign something?”

Wolfe shook his head. “That won't be necessary.” He had leaned back and his eyes were half closed. “My charge will be adequate, but not exorbitant. I shan't attempt to make you pay for your cousin's volatility. But one thing must be clearly understood. You are engaging me for this job because of your affection and esteem for Mr. McNair and your desire that his murderer should be discovered and punished. You are at present under the spell of powerful emotions. Are you sure that tomorrow or next week you will still want this thing done? Do you want the murderer caught and tried and convicted and executed if it should happen to be, for instance, your cousin, your uncle, your mother- or Mr. Perren Gebert?”