Gambit (10 page)

Wolfe regarded her, not with enthusiasm. “He made one excellent suggestion,” he declared. “That I send you home. But if I put you out you probably wouldn’t go home, there’s no telling where you’d go, and I need you. I need you now, and I may need you again at any moment. I neither believe him nor disbelieve him.” He turned. “Archie?”

I was back at my desk. “Pass,” I told him. “If he’s a liar he’s good. If he’s straight Sally’s a goof, and I told her Monday evening that I’m with her all the way, so I’m prejudiced. I pass.”

He grunted. To her, “You heard me. I told him I would have to be satisfied about the direction. What do you want, Miss Blount'Did you hire me to discredit Mr.

Kalmus or to clear your father?”

“Why … my father, of course.”

“Then don’t interfere. If there really is an important fact known only to Kalmus and your father I may soon learn what it is, before I commit myself to Kalmus,

and then I’ll decide what to do. He has by no means convinced me of his integrity, and I’m going to spend some of your money in an effort to verify or impeach your opinion of him. He is a widower?”

“Yes. His wife died ten years ago.”

“He has children?”

She nodded. “Four. Two sons and two daughters. They’re all married.”

“Do any of them live with him'Or he with them?”

“No. He has an apartment on Thirty-eighth Street in a remodeled house that he owns. When the children got married and left he had it turned into apartments,

one to a floor.”

“Does he live alone?”

“Yes. He doesn’t -“

“Yes is enough. Does he have servants'A servant?”

“Not to sleep in. A daily cleaning woman is all. He only eats breakfast -“

“If you please. Have you a key to his apartment?”

Her eyes widened. “Of course not. Why would I have a key?”

“I couldn’t say. I merely ask.” He turned. “Archie. Get Saul and Fred and Orrie.

After lunch. Two-thirty if possible.”

I swiveled and got the phone and dialed. Getting them in the middle of the day was doubtful, but Saul had an answering service, Fred had a wife, and for Orrie I had three different numbers, two of which were strictly his affair; and for Wolfe any and all of them would leave a job he happened to be on unless it was really hot.

I was at the phone off and on until lunchtime, and my meal was interrupted twice by call-backs from Fred and Orrie, but I wouldn’t have minded if I had got no meal at all if necessary in order to get a ball rolling, though it did seem that Wolfe was piling it on. If all he had in mind was a tour of Kalmus’s apartment,

as was indicated by the questions he had asked Sally, why the platoon'Why not just send me'I had a suspicion and I didn’t care for it. He wanted me around on account of Sally. With me not there to keep an eye on her, she might try to tell Fritz how to cook, or put tacks in Wolfe’s bed, or change the furniture around.

If that was it, if having her as a house guest meant that I would be sent on no errand if and when there was one, I was inclined to agree with Yerkes and Kalmus, at a time like this the place for her was home.

Bones were dwelt upon again at lunch, but not Voltaire’s; these had been found in some gorge somewhere in Africa, and they proved that the chief difference between me and the galoots who put them there a million years ago was that I can use a typewriter; I think that was it. The kidneys were fully appreciated, and,

as I was chewing my last one, Fritz stepped in after answering the doorbell to say that Mr. Panzer was there. If Sally hadn’t been present he would of course have said Saul. By the time we finished with the salad and coffee Fred and Orrie had also come.

I had told them on the phone that Sally Blount would be present, and, when we entered the office and I introduced them to her, it was interesting, as it always is. to see how true they ran to form. Saul Panzer, five-feet-seven, 140 pounds, with a big nose and flat ears, not a good design for beauty, apparently looked casually in her direction only to be polite, but you could safely give a thousand to one that he had every little detail of her on file for good. Fred Durkin, five-feet-ten, 190 pounds, bald and burly, looked at her, then away,

then back at her. He doesn’t know he does that. Ever since the time, years ago,

when he fell temporarily for a pretty little trick with ample apples, and his wife caught on, he doesn’t trust himself with females under thirty. Orrie Cather, six-feet-flat, 180 pounds, good design from tip to toe, gave her a straight, honest, inquisitive, and acquisitive eye. He was born with the attitude toward all attractive women that a fisherman has toward all the trout in a stream, and has never seen any reason to change it.

Their three chairs lined up before Wolfe’s desk didn’t leave much space, and the red leather chair had had time to cool off from Kalmus, so Sally took it. Wolfe,

after performing as usual with that trio, shaking hands with all of them because he wanted to with Saul, sat, moved his eyes left to right and back again, and spoke. “If it was troublesome for you to arrange to come I should thank you, and I do. I suppose you know what I’m concerned with - Matthew Blount, charged with the murder of Paul Jerin. You have just met his daughter. I won’t describe the situation because for the present I have a single specific assignment for you.

You probably know the name of Blount’s lawyer: Daniel Kalmus.”

Nods.

“There is reason to suspect that at some time prior to Tuesday evening, January thirtieth, he procured some arsenic somewhere; I have no slightest hint of where or how or when, but it was probably not more than a week or two before January thirtieth; it may well have been only a day or two. Note that I said “reason to suspect”; that’s all it is. Usually when I ask you to find something I have concluded that it exists; this time it’s not a conclusion, merely a surmise. But you will spare no pains, and if you find it your fees will be doubled. Saul will be in charge and will direct you, but report here to Archie as usual.”

He focused on Saul. “On such an operation you know how to proceed better than I do. I offer no suggestions. Evidence that he actually procured or possessed arsenic in some form would be most satisfactory, but even to establish that he had access to it would help substantially. Make no undue sacrifice to discretion; if he learns of your inquiries no harm will be done, for of course he has already taken all possible precautions. But you will exclude his doctor and his apartment. His doctor, Victor Avery, is his old and intimate friend; I have talked with him; and any approach to him or his office should be discussed with me beforehand. As for his apartment, it will be visited and inspected this evening by Archie, accompanied by Miss Blount. Miss Blount is an excellent source of information regarding his habits, haunts, associates - all about him.

Get all you can from her first.” He turned to her. “There are comfortable seats in the front room. If you please?”

She had fists again, her knuckles white. “But I told you … I just don’t believe it…”

“You’re not required to. I neither believe it nor reject it; I’m investigating.

That’s what you hired me for.”

“You said I would go to his apartment with Archie. I couldn’t.” “We’ll consider that later. In talking with Mr. Panzer, Mr. Durkin, and Mr. Cather, you need not disclose any matter which you wish to reserve. Mr. Goodwin will be with you.” He turned. “Have your notebook, Archie.”

I got it, arose, and headed for the door to the front room, and the trio got up and came, but stood aside at the door to let Sally go first. Ops appreciate a chance to be polite, they get so few. As I pulled the door shut a glance at Wolfe showed him reaching for African Genesis. Now that he was hard at work he could read again.

At ten minutes past ten that evening Sally and I got out of a taxi at the corner of Park Avenue and Thirty-eighth Street, walked a block and a half east with a gusty winter wind at our backs shoving us along, stood at the curb, and looked across the street at the windows of the fourth floor, the top, of a brick house painted gray with green trim. Seeing no sign of light, we crossed over, entered the vestibule, and inspected the row of names and buttons on the panel, and I pushed the button marked Kalmus, expecting no response, since I had dialed his phone number only a quarter of an hour ago and got no answer. After a thirty-second wait I pushed the button at the bottom, marked superintendent, and as I did so Sally gripped my arm.

It had taken some persuading to get her to come - in fact, more than persuading,

since she had held out until Wolfe explained that if I came alone I would have to bring an assortment of keys and tools, and even if one of the keys worked I could be nailed for breaking and entering. Naturally that did it, since she was faced with the prospect of me in the coop and her there at Wolfe’s mercy. The arrangement was that if and when Kalmus came to see Wolfe that evening Sally and I would not be visible, and after Fritz had escorted him to the office and shut the door we would take off on our errand, and Wolfe would keep him until word came from me that we were through. Also, if he hadn’t shown by ten o’clock and his phone didn’t answer, we would go anyhow and risk getting interrupted. On that I had fudged a little and dialed his number at nine-fifty.

So there we were in the vestibule. There was no receiver on a hook, just a pair of little circular grills in the wall at chin level, and after a brief wait there was a crackle and then a voice: ‘Who is it?’ Sally, still gripping my arm,

spoke to the grill. “It’s Sarah Blount. We want to see Mr. Kalmus. We rang his bell, but he didn’t answer. Do you know where he is?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Well … we want to see him, but it’s cold here in the vestibule. May we wait inside'Will you let us in?”

“I guess so. I’ll be up in a minute.”

I put my hand to the door and kept it there, but there was no click. A minute passed, and another, and still no click, and then the door opened. The man who opened it, a thin tall guy with a face as black as Jim Crow, made room for us to enter, and when we were in let it shut. I knew more about him, from Sally, than he did about me. His name was Dobbs, and he had been the butler when the Kalmus family had occupied the whole house.

He was frowning at Sally. “It’s you all right, Miss Sarah,” he said. “It’s been so long since I saw you.”

She nodded. “It certainly has. This is Mr. Goodwin. Mr. Dobbs, Archie.”

I offered a hand, and he took it. Of course shaking hands with a butler is vulgar, but he wasn’t a butler any more, he was a superintendent.

“You haven’t changed any,” Sally said. “Except your hair. All that gray.” She was hating it, and I admit I couldn’t blame her.

“You have,” Dobbs said, “but that’s natural. You’re on the up, and I’m on the down. Will you permit me to say, I’m sorry about your father’s trouble. I know it’s going to come out all right, sure it will, but it’s a big trouble.” He looked at me, and he had a good keen eye. “I know your name, you’re a detective.” Back to Sally. “I guess that’s why you want to see Mr. Kalmus, your father’s trouble.”

“Yes, it is.” For a moment I thought Sally was going to flunk it, but she got it out: ‘Could we wait for him in his apartment'Could you … would you… let us in'If we have to wait long … we have to see him tonight…”

“Of course.” After all, she had sat on his knee, with a Kalmus daughter on the other knee, while he told them stories, before the gray came to his hair - a detail I had got from Sally. He said, “Mr. Kalmus wouldn’t want you waiting for him down here, that’s sure,” and headed for the open door of the do-it-yourself elevator. Entering after us, he pushed a button, the door closed, and we were lifted.

On the fourth floor the foyer was just a cell, four feet square, merely to provide walls for a door. Dobbs had taken a ring of keys from a pocket, but before he used one he pushed the button on the jamb and waited a full half a minute - in case Kalmus was in but had preferred not to answer our ring from downstairs. Evidently not. He used the key, opened the door, entered and flipped a wall switch, and there was light - plenty of it, though indirect, from troughs at the ceiling along two of the walls.

“There you are, Miss Sarah,” he said. “It’s not the way it used to be, is it?”

“No, it isn’t, Dobbsy.” She started a hand out but took it back. You don’t shake the hand of a man you’re tricking. But apparently it’s all right to kiss him.

Anyway, she did - a peck on the cheek - and said, “Did you hear that'Dobbsy!”

“You bet I heard it. You just bet I did.” He bowed to her, and it could have been a butler bowing or an ambassador from somewhere in Africa. “I hope you don’t have long to wait,” he said, and went. When the door had closed behind him Sally flopped onto the nearest chair.

“My God,” she groaned. “How awful. I didn’t want to come. Will you hurry,

Archie'Will you please hurry?”

I told her to relax, took my hat and coat off and dropped them on a chair, and glanced around. It was a big room, and by no means bare, and of course there would be a bedroom and bath, and a kitchenette. Even if I had been after some specific object like a bottle of arsenous oxide it would have been a three-hour job if done right, and since I expected nothing so obvious but merely hoped for something, no matter what, that would open a crack to let in a little light, the whole night wouldn’t be too much. Say it was a single piece of paper, a letter or a record of something; one item alone, the books in the shelves that lined the wall on the right, to the ceiling, would take hours. And Kalmus might show any second. I decided to have a look at the bedroom first and started for a door at the left, but on the way I caught something from the corner of my eye and stopped and turned. Then I moved.

It was Kalmus. He was on the floor in front of a couch, and the couch hid him from view until you passed the end of it. He was fully dressed, on his back with his legs straight out. After glancing at Sally and seeing that she was still on the chair, her head bent forward and her face covered by her hands, I squatted.

His eyes were open, staring at the ceiling, the pupils dilated, his face was purple, his tongue was sticking out, and there was dried froth around his mouth and nose. With the froth dry there was no use trying for a pulse or a breath. I poked a finger into a deep crease around his neck, felt something besides skin,

and leaned closer for a look, forcing the crease open. It was cord, the kind used for Venetian blinds, with a knot under his left ear, and the surplus ends had been tucked under his shoulder. I told myself then and there to remember to ask the murderer, when we had him, if he had tucked the cord in consciously because he liked things neat, or if his mind had been occupied and he had done it without thinking. It was one of the most remarkable details I have ever seen or heard of about a death by violence. I was resisting the temptation to pull it out to see how much there was of it when there was a sound behind me, and I twisted around and then sprang up. Sally was there, staring down, her mouth hanging open, and she was starting to sag as I reached her. Not wanting a faint to deal with, I picked her up, carried her to a chair at the other side of the room, put her in it, pushed her head forward, down to her knees, and kept my hand there, at the back of her nice neck. She was limp and there was no resistance, but she wasn’t out. I knelt beside her, in case she went.

“So you were wrong,” I said, “dead wrong. If you hadn’t been wrong you wouldn’t have come to Nero Wolfe, but to hell with that now. Do you hear me?”

No answer.

“Damn it, do you hear me?”

“Yes.” It wasn’t loud, but it was audible. “Is he dead?”

“Certainly he’s dead. He -“

“How?”

“Strangled. There’s a cord around his throat.” I took my hand away, and her head started up, slow, and I stood up. “Do you think you can walk?”

“I don’t… want to walk.” Her head was up.

“That’s too bad. Will I have to carry you down and put you in a cab?”

“Archie.” Her head tilted back to look up at me. Her jaw started working, out of control, and she stopped to manage it. She made it, and asked, “He killed himself?”

“No. I’ll be glad to help you straighten your mind out later but now I have things to do. He was murdered. I don’t want you here when the cops come. I’d rather explain why we came and got Dobbs to let us in without your help. Do you want to spend the night answering questions?”

“No.”

“Can you make it down and get a taxi'Mr. Wolfe will be expecting you. I’ll phone him.”

“I think … I’ll go home.”

“You will not. Absolutely not. Either you give me your word that you’ll go straight back there or you stay here and take it. Well?”

“I don’t want to stay.”

“Will you go to Nero Wolfe and do what he says?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Can you stand'Can you walk?”

She could. I didn’t help her. I went to the door and opened it, and she carne,

none too steady but she made it. Propping the door open with my foot, I reached for the elevator button and pushed it, and when it came and the door opened she entered and pushed the button, and the door closed. I went back in, crossed to a table in a corner where I had seen a phone, lifted the receiver, and dialed the number I knew best.

Wolfe’s voice came: “Yes?” He never has answered the phone properly and never will.

“Me,” I said. “In Kalmus’s apartment. Everything worked fine as planned. Sally did all right, and Superintendent Dobbs brought us up and let us in and left.

But Kalmus was here and still is. He’s stretched out on the floor with a cord tight around his neck. He has started to cool off, but of course skinny ones cool faster. At a guess, he has been dead around three hours. He didn’t tie the cord himself, and anyway the loose ends are neatly tucked under his shoulder.”

Silence for five seconds, then: ‘Pfui.”

“Yes, sir. I agree. I have bounced Sally, she just left, and, if she stays conscious and keeps her promise, she will be there in about ten minutes. I have a suggestion. Send her up to bed and have Doc Vollmer come. He may find that she needs a sedative and shouldn’t see any callers, official or otherwise, until sometime tomorrow. I’ll notify the law right away, since they’ll learn from Dobbs what time he let us in. Have you any instructions?”

“No. Confound it.”

“Yes, sir. Absolutely. I assume I don’t tell the law what we had in mind when we came, since what was in our minds is none of their damned business. You wondered why Kalmus didn’t show up this evening, and when I tried his number there was no answer, so we came to ask him. Will that do?”

“Yes. Must you stay?”

“Oh, no. I’m staying because I like it here. Tell Fritz I may be there for breakfast and I may not.”

I hung up and took a couple of seconds to shake my head at the phone with my lips tight. Must I stay. Only a genius could ask such a damn fool question.

Still shaking my head, I picked up the phone and dialed another number I knew:

WA9-8241. I dialed that instead of Headquarters because I preferred to tell Inspector Cramer himself, or at least Sergeant Purley Stebbins, if either of them was on duty.