Rex Stout - Red Box, The

The inspector puffed some more. “One thing, you might think we could find some passerby who saw someone making motions with the top of that car, but it could have been done sitting inside with the door closed and wouldn't have attracted much attention, and it was night. We've had no luck on that so far. We found the empty bottles in the car, in the dashboard compartment-ordinary two-ounce vials, stocked by every drug store, no labels. Of course there were no fingerprints on them or on the sauce dish, and as for finding out where they came from, you might as well try to trace a redheaded paper match. We're checking up on sources of nitro-benzene, but I agree with you that whoever is handling this business isn't leaving a trail like that.

“I'll tell you.” Cramer puffed again. “I don't think we can do it We can keep on trying, but I don't believe we can. There's too much luck and dirty cleverness against us. It'll be months before I get in my car again without looking up at the top. We've got to get at it through motive, or I swear I'm beginning to believe we won't get it at all. I know that's what you've wanted too, that's why you said the red box would do it. But where the hell is it? If we can't find it we'll have to get at the motive without it. So far it's a blank, not only with the Frosts, but with everyone else we've investigated. Granted that Dudley Frost is short as trustee of the estate, which he may or may not be, what good does it do him to croak McNair and Gebert? With Lew and the girl, there's not even a hair of a motive. With Mrs. Frost, we know she's been paying Gebert a lot of jack for a long time. She says she was paying off an old debt, and he's dead and he wouldn't tell us anyhow. It was probably blackmail for something that happened years ago, but what was it that happened, and why did she have to kill him right now, and where did McNair fit in? McNair was the first to go.”

Cramer reached to knock ashes into the tray, sat back in his chair, and grunted.

“There,” he said bitterly. “There's one or two questions for you. I'm back to where I was last Tuesday, when I came here and told you I was licked, only there's been two more people killed. Didn't I tell you this one was yours? It's not my type. Down at the DA.’s office an hour ago they wanted to put a ring in your nose, and what I told Frisbie would have fried an egg. You're the worst thorn in the flesh I know of, but you are also half as smart as you think you are, and that puts you head and shoulders above everybody since Julius Caesar.

Do you know why I've changed my tune since yesterday? Because Gebert's been killed and you're still keeping your client. If you had run out on the case this morning, I would have been ready and eager to put three rings in your nose. But now I believe you. I don't think you've the red box-”

The interruption was Fritz-his knock on the office door, his entry, his approach within two paces of Wolfe's desk, his ceremonial bow:

“Mr. Morgan to see you, sir.”

Wolfe nodded and the creases of his cheeks unfolded a little; I hadn't seen that since I had jerked him back from the relapse. He murmured, “It's all right,

Fritz, we have no secrets from Mr. Cramer. Send him in.”

“Yes, sir.”

Fritz departed, and Saul Panzer entered. I put the eye on him. He looked a little crestfallen, but not exactly downhearted; and under his arm he carried a parcel wrapped in brown paper, about the size of a cigar box. He stepped across to Wolfe's desk.

Wolfe's brows were up. “Well?”

Saul nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“Contents in order?”

“Yes, sir. As you said. What made me late-”

“Never mind. You are here. Satisfactory. Archie, please put that package in the safe. That's all for the present, Saul. Come back at two o'clock.”

I took the package and went and opened the safe and chucked it in. It felt solid but didn't weigh much. Saul departed.

Wolfe leaned back in his chair and half closed his eyes. “So,” he murmured. He heaved a deep sigh. “Mr. Cramer. I remarked a while ago that we might as well pass the time. We have done so. That is always a triumph, to evade boredom.” He glanced at the clock. “Now we can talk business. It is past noon, and we lunch here at one. Can you have the Frost family here, all of them, at two o'clock? If you will do that, I'll finish this case for you. It will take an hour, perhaps.”

Cramer rubbed his chin. He did it with the hand that held his cigar, and ashes fell on his pants, but he didn't notice it He was gazing at Wolfe. Finally he said:

“An hour. Huh?”

Wolfe nodded. “Possibly more. I think not.”

Cramer gazed. “Oh. You think not.” He jerked forward in his chair. “What was in that package Goodwin just put in the safe?”

“Something that belongs to me. – Now wait!” Wolfe wiggled a finger. “Confound it, why should you explode? I invite you here to observe the solution of the murders of Molly Lauck and Mr. McNair and Mr. Gebert. I shall not discuss it, and I won't have you yelling at me. Were I so minded I could invite, instead of you, representatives of the newspapers, or Mr. Morley of the District Attorney's office. Almost anyone. Sir, you are churlish. Would you quarrel with good fortune? Two o'clock, and all the Frosts must be here. Well, sir?”

Cramer stood up. “I'll be damned.” He glanced at the safe. “That's the red box.

Huh? Tell me that.”

Wolfe shook his head. “Two o'clock.”

“All right. But look here. Sometimes you get pretty fancy. By God, you'd better have it.”

“I shall, at two o'clock.”

The inspector looked at the safe again, shook his head, stuck his cigar between his teeth, and beat it.

Chapter Eighteen

THE FROST tribe arrived all at the same time, a little after two, for a good reason: they were escorted by Inspector Cramer and Purley Stebbins of the

Homicide Squad. Purley rode with Helen and her mother in a dark blue town car which I suppose belonged to Helen, and Cramer brought the two men in his own bus. Lunch was over and I was looking out of the front window when they drove up, and I stood and watched them alight, and then went to the hall to let them in. My instructions were to take them directly to the office.

I was as nervous as a congressman on election day. I had been made acquainted with the high spots on Wolfe's program. It was all well and good for him to get up these tricky charades as far as he himself was concerned, because he didn't have any nerves, and he was too conceited to suffer any painful apprehension of failure, but I was made of different stuff and I didn't like the feeling it gave me. True, he had stated just before we went into lunch that we had a hazardous and disagreeable task before us, but he didn't seriously mean it; he was merely calling my attention to the fact that he was preparing to put over a whizz.

I admitted the visitors, helped get hats and topcoats disposed of in the hall, and led them to the office. Wolfe, seated behind his desk, nodded around at them. I had already arranged chairs, and now allotted them: Helen the closest to

Wolfe, with Cramer at her left and Llewellyn next to Cramer; Uncle Dudley not far from me, so I could reach him and gag him if necessary, and Mrs. Frost the other side of Dudley, in the big leather chair which was usually beside the big globe. None of them looked very festive. Lew looked as if he had the pop-eye and his face had a grey tinge, I suppose from the nitrobenzene he had got too close to. Mrs. Frost wasn't doing any sagging, but looked pale in black clothes.