Rex Stout - Death of a Dude

"That's a wonderful idea," I said. "Gee, it's a good thing I stopped, I never would have thought of it. See you tomorrow. Good night. Woody." I turned and walked out.

As I opened the car door Lily said, "He's not coming?" but I waited until we were on the way to answer.

"Some day," I said, "I will brown him in oil and sprinkle garlic on him. He is expecting phone calls. He suggested that I bathe and eat and go to bed. So either he has got something hot started that he thinks he doesn't need my help with, or he is cooking up one of his screwy charades that he knows I wouldn't like. Listen to me. That shows the frame of mind I'm in. You don't cook a charade. Now as I lie and soak in a tub of water just hot enough, I won't be making careful plans for tomorrow; I'll be wondering what the hell we're in for. From now on ignore me. Pretend I'm not here. If there was a dog at the cabin to come bouncing to greet me, I'd kick it."

She said nothing for a mile, then: "I could go and borrow Bill Farnham's dog."

"Fine. Do that."

As we turned into the lane: "But you're going to eat."

"You're damn right I am. I'm starving."

The ignition-key routine at the cabin was not to bother about it in the daytime, but the last one using the car in the afternoon or evening was supposed to take it in and put it at a certain spot on a shelf in the big room. So I took it, to show Lily and whom it might concern, meaning me, that I was through with it for the night. If Woody reneged on his offer to drive Wolfe home, he could walk.

I ate. Clean as a scraped trout, shaved, shampooed, manicured, teeth brushed, clad in a handsome gray silk belted toga with black dots, over white pajamas with no dots, I sat in the kitchen with Lily and ate turtle soup, two filets mignons, hashed-brown potatoes, bread and butter, milk, spinach with mushrooms and Madeira, honeydew melon, and coffee. Twice Diana came and asked if she could get us anything and we said no thanks, and the third time, when Mimi was pouring coffee, she asked if she could have some and we said yes. As she sat she said she had been dying to ask me about being in jail, and so was Wade; and she called him and he came.

I told them about the jail, making it pretty damn grim, putting in some bugs that were apparently attracted by the disinfectant, and a couple of lizards. Then they asked about the finding of Sam Peacock's body, and then the big question, who killed him and why? On that, of course, I said that their guess was as good as mine, or better, since I had been in the clink; and I suggested a game of pinochle. I said a friendly game of pinochle would help to get my mind off of the ordeal I had been through. I did not say that it would be satisfactory, for me, to have Wolfe come and find me enjoying myself, with no concern for trivial things like murders; I merely thought it. Lily knew, of course; as we rose to go to the big room a corner of her mouth was up with that understanding smile that means, any woman to any man, How well I know you.

But I didn't get the satisfaction. Shortly after eleven o'clock sounds came: a car stopping out in front, the car door slamming, the car moving again, faint footsteps, a door opening and closing, and footsteps in the long hall, receding. We had been visible through the window, but he had gone to the door to the hall and to his room.

"Nero the great," Wade said. "I'm not jeering, Archie, or if I am it's not at his talents, only at his manners. If he doesn't want to tell us about things he might at least take the trouble to say good night to his hostess. And you. Does he even know you're out of jail?"

I nodded. "Oh, sure. Lily and I stopped at Woody's and he was there. He was watching Woody cook something the Turks stole from the Armenians. Your deal, Diana." I was entering the score. "If you'll deal me a two-hundred meld we'll collect."

She did and we did, though I almost spoiled it by making a dumb lead.

My decision to go and tell Wolfe good night was not a wag of my tail. As I told Lily when Diana and Wade had gone to their rooms, it was just possible that he had had a reason for putting on an act with Woody there, and a broad-minded man like me should give him a chance to say so. Therefore I went down the long hall, quietly even on the tile in my soft deerskin slippers, knocked on the door at the end, barely heard the "Come in," and entered. He was in his yellow pajamas, barefooted, in the chair by the window, which was closed.

"I may sleep until noon," I said. "Good night."

"Pfui. Sit down."

"I need a lot of rest after-"

"Confound it, sit down!"

I went to a chair and sat.

"I assume," he said, "that Miss Rowan has told you that Mrs Greve brought that girl."

"Yes. And she took some pictures and sent them to Saul, who is in St. Louis, and you and Jessup have been working on Peggy Truett practically nonstop. I'm sorry I missed it."

"So am I. It should be a settled policy that all interviews with women are handled by you. Then you know that she is at the ranch. Mr Jessup put her under arrest yesterday evening; the current euphemism is 'protective custody.' She is being protected from annoyance by Sheriff Haight, with Mrs Greve and Miss Greve as her warders. She was and is an essential link. It's worthy of remark that although you were confined you supplied a name that made it possible to arrange for the denouement."

"I did?"

"Yes."

"It's arranged?"

"Yes."

"You've got it?"

"Yes. The last call from Saul, an hour ago, settled it, and I called Mr Jessup to tell him. A man or men will arrive in Helena at nine tomorrow morning and proceed to Timberburg. I am stretching a point and telling you that. The circumstances do not permit that I tell you more at present."

My mouth opened and shut again. My eyes took him in, from the high and wide forehead down across the sea of yellow to the bare feet, and back up again. "If this is one of your spectacular razzle-dazzles," I said, "with a long and tricky fuse, and if you leave me out because I might refuse to play, and if it blows up in your face, you won't lose a client or a fee, you'll lose me, and after what you've gone through the last five days, that would be a shame."

"It would indeed." He shook his head. "It isn't that, Archie. You'll have to await the event. But I must consult you now on a detail. I observed that with the other car there was a key which had to be turned to make it start, as with my cars which you drive, and the key was not left in the car overnight. It was brought inside and placed on a shelf. Is there a similar key with the car Miss Rowan has now?"

Naturally I suspected him of changing the subject just to sidetrack me, but I said only, "Yes."

"And the car can't be started without it?"

"It can be, but you have to have a couple of tools and you have to know how. I could do it, but you couldn't."

"I couldn't even with the key, and certainly wouldn't. Is the key for Miss Rowan's car on the shelf now?"

"It should be. I put it there."

"Get it in the morning, before breakfast, and put it in your pocket. I could do that myself, but it would be awkward if Miss Rowan wanted to use the car. That's the detail. It's late. Good night."