Rex Stout - Homicide Trinity (Crime Line)

"I can try. I intend to."

"How?"

"By meeting contingencies as they arise."

Heydecker put in, "You say Mr. Otis knows all this? He was here last night?"

"Yes. I am not a parrot and you are not deaf. Well, Mr. Jett? Monday evening of last week?"

"I was at a theater with a friend."

"The friend's name?"

"Miss Ann Paige."

"What theater?"

"The Drew. The play was Practice Makes Perfect. Miss Paige and I left the office together shortly before six and had dinner at Rusterman's. We were together continuously until after midnight."

"Thank you. Mr. Edey?"

"That was the Monday before New Year's," Edey said. "I got home before six o'clock and ate dinner there and was there all evening."

"Alone?"

"No. My son and his wife and two children spent the holiday week with us. They went to the opera with my wife and daughter, and I stayed home with the chil- dren."

"How old are the children?" "Two and four."

"Where is your home?"

"An apartment. Park Avenue and Sixty-ninth Street."

"Did you go out at all?"

"No."

"Thank you. Mr. Heydecker?"

"I was at the Manhattan Chess Club watching the tournament. Bobby Fischer won his adjourned game with Weinstein in fifty-eight moves. Larry Evans drew with Kaime and Reshevsky drew with Mednis."

"Where is the Manhattan Chess Club?"

"West Sixty-fourth Street."

"Did play start at six o'clock?"

"Certainly not. I was in court all day and had things to do at the office. My secretary and I had sandwiches at my desk."

"What time did you leave the office?"

"Around eight o'clock. My secretary would know."

"What time did you arrive at the chess club?"

"Fifteen or twenty minutes after I left the office." Heydecker suddenly moved and was on his feet. "This is ridiculous," he declared. "You may be on the square, Wolfe, I don't know. If you are, God help us." He turned. "I'm going to see Otis. You coming, Frank?"

He was. The brilliant idea man, judging from his expression, had none at all. He pulled his feet back, moved his head slowly from side to side to tell hope good-by, and arose. They didn't ask the eleven-percent partner to join them, and apparently he wasn't going to, but as I was reaching for Edey's ulster on the hall rack here came Jett, and when I opened the door he was the first one out. I stood on the stoop, getting a breath of air, and watched them heading for Ninth Avenue three abreast, a solid front of mutual trust and understand- ing, in a pig's eye.

In the office, Wolfe was leaning back with his eyes closed. As I reached my desk the phone rang. It was Saul Panzer, to report that there had been no sign of Mrs. Sorell. I told him to hold the wire and relayed it to Wolfe, and asked if he wanted to put them on the alibis we had just collected. "Pfui," he said, and I told Saul to carry on.

I swiveled. "I was afraid," I said, "that you might be desperate enough to try it, checking their alibis. It's very interesting, the different ways there are of crack- ing a case. It depends on who you are. If you're just a top-flight detective, me for instance, all you can do is detect. You'd rather go after an alibi than eat. When you ask a man where he was at eleven minutes past eight you put it in your notebook, and you wear out a pair of shoes looking for somebody who says he was somewhere else. But if you're a genius you don't give a damn about alibis. You ask him where he was only to keep the conversation going while you wait for some- thing to click. You don't even listen-"

"Nonsense," he growled. "They have no alibis."

I nodded. "You didn't listen."

"I did listen. Their alibis are worthless. One with his fiancee, one watching a chess tournament, one at home with young children in bed asleep. Bah. I asked on the chance that one of them, possibly two, might be elimi- nated, but no. There are still three."

"Then genius is all that's left. Unless you have an idea for another card I could take to Mrs. Sorell. I wouldn't mind. I like the way she says very."

"No doubt. Could you do anything with her?"

"I could try. She might possibly make another decision-for instance, to sign a statement. Or if she has decided to hire you I could bring her, and you could have a go at her yourself. She has marvelous eye- lashes."

He grunted. "It may come to that. We'll see after lunch. It may be that after they have talked with Mr. Otis-yes, Fritz?"

"Lunch is ready, sir."

Chapter 7

I never got to check an alibi, but it was a close shave. Who made it close was Inspector Cramer.

Since Wolfe refuses to work either his brain or his tongue on business at table, and a murder case is business even when he has no client and no fee is in prospect, no progress was made during lunch, but when we returned to the office he buckled down and tried to think of something for me to do. The trouble was that the problem was too damn simple. We knew that one of three men had committed murder, and how and when. Okay, which one? Eeny meeny murder mo. Even the why was plain enough; Mrs. Sorell had hooked him with an offer, either of a big slice of the thirty million she was after or of more personal favors. Any approach you could think of was already cluttered with cops, except Mrs. Sorrell, and even if I got to her again I had nothing to use for a pry. What it called for was a good stiff dose of genius, and apparently Wolfe's was taking the day off. Sitting there in the office after lunch I may have got a little too personal with him or he wouldn't have bel- lowed at me to go ahead and check their alibis. "Glad to," I said, and went to the hall for my hat and coat, and saw visitors on the stoop, not strangers. I opened the door just as Cramer pushed the bell button, and in- quired, "Have you an appointment?"

"I have in my pocket," he said, "a warrant for your arrest as a material witness. Also one for Wolfe. I warned you."

There were two ways of looking at it. One was that he didn't mean to shoot unless he had to. If he had really wanted to haul us in he would have sent a couple of dicks after us instead of coming himself with Sergeant Purley Stebbins. The other was that here was a good opportunity to teach Wolfe a lesson. A couple of the right kind of impolite remarks would have made Cramer sore enough to go ahead and serve the war- rants, and spending several hours in custody, and pos- sibly all night, would probably cure Wolfe of leaving neckties on his desk. But I would have had to go along, which wouldn't have been fair, so I wheeled and marched to the office, relying on Purley to shut the door, and told Wolfe: "Cramer and Stebbins with war- rants. An inspector to take you and a sergeant to take me, which is an honor." He glared at me and then transferred it to them as they entered.

Cramer said, "I warned you last night," draped his coat on the arm of the red leather chair, and sat.

Wolfe snorted. "Tommyrot."

Cramer took papers from his pocket. "I'll serve these only if I have to. If I do I know what will happen, you'll refuse to talk and so will Goodwin, and you'll be out on bail as soon as Parker can swing it. But it will be on your record and that won't close it. Held as a material wit- ness is one thing, and charged with interfering with the operation of justice is another. In the interest of justice we were withholding the contents of the statements you and Goodwin gave us, and you knew it, and you revealed them. To men suspected of murder. Frank Edey has admitted it. He phoned an assistant district attorney."