Death Times Three SSC (28 page)

Her eyes widened. "You have it? You admit it?"

"I state it, here with you, where Mr. Goodwin makes it two to one if you are moved to quote me. Parenthetically, there is a plausible explanation for the package that was just taken from the pocket of Mr. Goodwin's coat. Yesterday Mr. Leach asked if Hattie Annis had left some counterfeit money here. Obviously there was some somewhere, and presumably it had been a factor in Miss Annis' fate, so I told Mr. Goodwin to make a package of appropriate size and shape to use as bait. That's our explanation for the record; for you the truth is better. We have the package."

"Where is it?"

"Out of your reach, I assure you. Another parenthesis: the disclosure of your status removes some difficulties. As an instance, we had supposed that Mr. Leach knew that Miss Annis had come to
this house yesterday because he or one of his men had followed her here. But if so, as Mr. Goodwin pointed out to me, why hadn't he followed her when she left, and why hadn't he seen the driver of the car that killed her? Now those questions are answered. She was followed here by the man who was soon to kill her--and you could name him--but not by Mr. Leach. He knew she had come here because you told him. I concede that you are not without gumption. When you learned that Mr. Goodwin had said on the phone that his name was Buster you inferred that Miss Annis had spoken with him, and you left the room, ostensibly to get your lipstick, but actually to make a phone call." His head turned. "Archie?"

I nodded. "Oh, she's bright. I'm proud of her."

He returned to her. "Other points are clarified by the disclosure of your status, but they are minor. I have a proposal to make. Mr. Goodwin and I are in a pickle. We want the murderer to be exposed, apprehended, tried, and convicted; but the package of bogus money will be an essential item of evidence, and we have it but can't produce it without embarrassment at the least and substantial penalty at the worst. You, on the other hand, have much to gain by producing it. It will more than compensate for your mishap in arranging for Mr. Leach to stub his toe. It will be a leaf for your garland. I propose to make the package available to you. Do you want it?"

"Of course I want it." She didn't sound enthusiastic. "And of course this is some very fancy trick. What will be in it this time?"

Wolfe shook his head. "No trick. I am offering to trade. We will give you the package Miss Annis left with Mr. Goodwin, intact, in a manner uncompromising for us but satisfactory to you, if you will answer some questions; and you will not be quoted. This is in good faith, madam."

"What are the questions?"

"I repeat, you will not be quoted. I want information for my own use, not testimony for a tribunal. During the three weeks you have lived in that house have you searched the premises?"

She pinched her lips with her teeth. She looked at me. "What is this, Mr. Goodwin? Another trap?" "No," I said, "this is straight."

"Is it being recorded?"

"No. When Mr. Wolfe says in good faith he means it,

and so do I. He's offering a deal and we're not double-dealers."

She looked at Wolfe. "All right. Yes, I have." "Did you find what you were looking for?"

"No. The first thing was to find out if it was being

made there, and it wasn't. Then to find out where he

got it."

"Did you?"

"No. I think I would have pretty soon--if this hadn't happened."

"Did you know who he was when you went there?"

"I knew--" She stopped. She decided to finish it. "I knew a certain person who lived there had passed some. That's all I'm going to tell you unless you tell me something. You said you would give me the package in a manner satisfactory to me. You might think it was satisfactory but I wouldn't. You can't just hand it to me and expect me not to tell where I got it."

"No indeed, but indulge me. I'll tell you in a moment. Have you searched that house thoroughly?"

"Well ... I made sure that there was no equipment anywhere to make counterfeit money. I wasn't looking for just a few bills. There would have been no point in that."

"When you learned that Miss Annis had found something she was going to bring to me, and you suspected what it was, or she told you what it was, did you try to find it? Did you search her room?"

"No. She only told me about it yesterday morning just before she left, and she showed me the package, but she wouldn't say what was in it."

"Did she tell you where she had found it?"

She thought that one over. Finally she said, "Yes." "Did you ever search her room?"

"I did once, the first week, looking for equipment."

"Very well." Wolfe rested his elbows on the chair arms and laced his fingers. "This will be the procedure. You will stay here with me. You will give your house key to Mr. Goodwin. He will go and get the package, go to the house and to Miss Annis' room, and choose a place to hide the package. He will choose with care, since a policeman was in that room last evening. He will then phone here, you will go to the house and join him, you will search the room together, and you will find the package. That should be satisfactory. You understand, of course, that if you report this conversation or any part of it we'll deny it in toto. You will have been impelled by your animus against Mr. Goodwin because of the humiliation he subjected you to. Two against one."

She was looking doubtful. "I am capable of good faith too, Mr. Wolfe. But for the record, she brought the package and gave it to Mr. Goodwin. How did it get to her room?"

"She didn't give it to Mr. Goodwin. After she spoke with you she decided not to bring it; or after speaking with Mr. Goodwin she decided not to show it to me, merely to tell me about it, went home and left it there, and returned to this neighborhood. There was plenty of time. Neither of those suppositions can be disproved. I will add that this offer is not made under pressure of desperation. If you decline it, no one will ever see that package again. That will make my job more difficult but by no means impossible. If you accept it, and do not report this discussion, you will betray no trust. On the contrary, your recovery of the package will be a coup. I have more questions to ask, but if you accept the offer, Mr. Goodwin can go now."

"What questions?"

"A few minor ones and one major one. The major one, naturally, is the name of the murderer."

"I don't know it."

"Pfui. That's a quibble. The name of the person living in that house who had passed counterfeit money. What is it?"

She shook her head. "No," she said emphatically. "Not that. No."

Wolfe grunted. "You prefer to preserve him to lead you to your quarry. So does Mr. Leach; he felt bound to give the police a hint, but not the name. I intend to press the point, but Mr. Goodwin might as well go. Archie?"

I got up and went to her. "The key, please?"

She was and she wasn't. The glamorous she-weasel tilted her adorable, maybe, face up to me, presumably to see if I was fit to be trusted. I made my face the picture of integrity, virtue, and honor. Apparently that did it, for she opened her bag, took out a key fold, removed one of the keys, and handed it to me.

"You'll get it back," I said, "see you later," and went.

There can be any number of reasons for making sure that you're not being tailed or shaking it off if you have one, but on the whole I don't know of a better one than that you prefer not to have company when you are on your way to pick up nine grand in phony lettuce. It took me two blocks to learn that unquestionably I had company, and two more to decide that it was Homicide, not Secret Service. That was cockeyed. I was risking, if not my life, at least my liberty and pursuit of happiness, to give Homicide first call on a murderer, and they were dogging me. It took me an extra ten minutes to make it to the Churchill, since I had to be absolutely certain that I had lost him.

Having got the envelope with the key at the manager's office, I didn't relax en route to Grand Central; and having got the package from the locker, I changed my attitude. Now, if I got a bad break and was spotted, I no longer minded being followed to my destination; I merely didn't want to be stopped. Getting a taxi at the 42nd Street entrance, I told the driver I was in a hurry two dollars' worth, and he made it to 47th and Eighth Avenue in seven minutes. From there I walked and, without bothering to reconnoiter, used the borrowed key and entered. No one was visible or audible. I lost no time mounting a flight, getting into Hattie Annis' room, and shutting the door. I opened the bottom drawer of her desk, took the package from my pocket and shoved it underneath some papers, closed the drawer, and breathed. Of course I would have to do better than that, but at least it wasn't on me. As I was dropping my coat on a chair there was a knock at the door, and I called, "Come in!"

It was Noel Ferris, with a hat on and a coat over his arm. He came in a couple of steps. "I thought I heard someone," he drawled. "Back again? Who let you in?"

"I just say open sesame."

He nodded. "I asked for that. Naturally, you could open the Gate of Hell with a hairpin, though I can't imagine why you'd want to. So you haven't found what you're looking for?"

"Nope."

"I'd be glad to help if I didn't have an appointment. I doubt--hello, Ray. The bloodhound's at it again."

Raymond Dell appeared on the sill and boomed, "Monstrous! A maggot at a carcass."

"Oh, the carcass is at the morgue. This is only the debris. I'd like to stay and help you keen, but I have to go." He went. Dell entered, crossed to a chair, and sat. "If my memory serves," he rumbled, "your name is Goodman."

"Right. Algernon Goodman. Call me Buster."

"I call no one Buster. In the name of heaven, can you find no better way to pass the time than pawing over the refuse of a departed soul?"

The question was, what would move him, short of picking him up and tossing him out? I wanted to get the package out of the drawer quick, since Purley Stebbins had certainly gone through the desk. Luckily I hit on it. "Well," I said, "I could find a worse way--sitting and watching someone else doing the pawing."

"Touche!" He arose. "An excellent line! Good enough for a curtain! Magnificent!" He turned and marched out, and I went and shut the door.

I glanced around. I had considered the problem on the way, and first I went to the door that might be a closet. It was, and to my surprise it wasn't a mess--a row of dresses and suits and skirts on hangers, boxes stacked on a shelf, shoes on a rack. No good. Tammy Baxter, if that was her name, had said that Stebbins had been in here more than an hour, and he could have done that closet in five minutes. I shut the door. The desk and the chest of drawers were even worse. I went to the piano and got up on the stool, lifted the hinged top, and looked in. Plenty of room, but no. It would interfere with the hammers, and what if one of them had come in after Stebbins had left and played a funeral march?

It would have to be the bed. There was no key in the door to the hall, but there was a bolt, and I went and slipped it, and then went to the bed and lifted an end of the mattress. There were two of them. The top one was soft, and the bottom one, stiff as a board, rested on wooden slats. No box spring. I got out my pocketknife and made a slit on the underside of the top mattress, near the corner. I had never touched the package with my bare hands and this was no time to break the precedent, so before I took it from the drawer I got a glove from my overcoat pocket and put it on. With the package inside the mattress, the bed tidied, and the glove back in the overcoat pocket, I opened the door, descended to the lower hall, went to the telephone in a niche under the stairs, and dialed the number I knew best. Fritz answered, and I said I wanted to speak to Wolfe.

"But Archie! He and the lady are at lunch!" "That's dandy. I'm not. This is one time to break a rule. Tell him I sound depressed."

In two minutes I had Wolfe's voice: "Yes?"

"Yes. All set. I'll be at the door to let her in. Have you got the name?"

"No. She has supplied further details, but I can't pry the name out of her. She is extremely difficult." "That is not news. Okay, I'm waiting."

"She'll be there shortly. As you know, a person at my table, man or woman, is a guest, and a guest must be allowed to finish a meal."

"By all means. Good heavens, yes. I'll go out and get a sandwich."

"You will not." He hung up.

That was at 1:22 P.M. It was 1:57 when she arrived. I know how to wait; I once spent nine rainy hours in a

doorway waiting for someone to show at an entrance across the street; but that thirty-five minutes was a little tough. If either Homicide or Secret Service appeared on the scene, no matter for what, and found me there, the program would certainly be disrupted, and it might possibly be ruined. But a guest must be allowed to finish a meal. Of all the crap! There was no glass in the front door, and after the first fifteen minutes I spent most of the time peering through one of the little glass panels at the side, when I wasn't glancing at my watch. When she finally came I had the door open by the time she had one foot in the vestibule.

"Miss Annis' room," I said, and she went to the stairs. I followed her up, and in, and shut the door. You can't allow a guest to handle her own coat, so I took it and put it on a chair. "Did you stop on the way to make a phone call?" I demanded.