Gambit (7 page)

I obeyed. As I said, I don’t use the elevator; I took the stairs, two flights.

Finding the door of the south room closed, I knocked. 1 heard no footsteps, but in a moment the door opened. There had been no footsteps because she had no shoes on. “Mr. Wolfe wants you,” I said. “With or without shoes, as you prefer.”

“Has anything happened?”

Not knowing if he wanted her to know we had had a caller, I said, “He just did lip exercises, but of course you don’t know how important that is. Don’t bother with your lips and hair, he wouldn’t know the difference.”

Of course that was ignored. She went to the dresser to use comb and lipstick,

then to the chair near a window to put on her shoes, and then came. You get a new angle on a figure when it precedes you down stairs; she had nice shoulders,

and her neck curved into them with a good line, As we entered the office Wolfe was frowning at a corner of his desk, rubbing his nose with a finger tip, and we got no attention from him. Sally went to the red leather chair and, after sitting in silence for a full minute, said, “Good morning.”

He moved the frown to her, blinked, and demanded, “Why did you take a volume of Voltaire?”

Her eyes widened. “Archie said I could take any book except the one you’re reading.”

“But why Voltaire?”

“No special reason. Just that I’ve never read him…”

“Unh,” Wolfe said. “We’ll discuss it at lunch. There has been a development. Did Archie tell - ‘ He stopped short. He had thoughtlessly allowed himself to speak familiarly to a woman. He corrected it. “Did Mr. Goodwin tell you that a policeman has been here'Inspector Cramer?”

“No.”

“He has. Uninvited and unexpected. He just left. Mr. Goodwin can tell you later why he came and what was said. What I must tell you, he gave me some information that changes the situation substantially. The police have established, for Mr.

Cramer beyond question, three facts. One, that the arsenic was in the chocolate.

Two, that no one had an opportunity to put it in the chocolate besides the cook,

the steward, the four messengers, and your father. Three, that only your father could have had a motive. None of the other six - I quote Mr. Cramer - “had ever met Paul Jerin or had any connection with him or his.” Though all -“

“I told you that. Didn’t I?”

“Yes, but based only on your knowledge, which was deficient. Mr. Cramer’s conclusions are based on a thorough and prolonged inquiry by an army of trained men. Though all three of those facts are important, the significant one is the third, that none of those six could have had a motive to kill Jerin. But Jerin was killed - with premeditation, since the arsenic was in hand. Do you play chess?”

“Not really. I know the moves. Do you mean you -“

“If you please. Do you know what a gambit is?”

“Why… vaguely…”

“It’s an opening in which a player gives up a pawn or a piece to gain an advantage. The murder of Paul Jerin was a gambit. Jerin was the pawn or piece.

The advantage the murderer gained was that your father was placed in mortal peril - a charge of murder and probable conviction. He had no animus for Jerin.

Jerin wasn’t the target, he was merely a pawn. The target was your father. You see how that alters the situation, how it affects the job you hired me for.”

“I don’t… I’m not sure…”

“You deserve candor, Miss Blount. Till half an hour ago the difficulties seemed all but insurmountable. To take the job and your money I had to assume your father’s innocence, but to demonstrate it I had to find evidence that one of those six men had had sufficient motive to kill Jerin and had acted on it. And the three most telling points against your father - that he had taken the chocolate to Jerin, that he had taken the pot and cup and rinsed them, and that he knew Jerin and could possibly have had a motive - those were merely accidental and had to be ignored. In candor, it seemed hopeless, and, conceiving nothing better for a start, I merely made a gesture; I had Mr. Goodwin arrange for a public notice that I had been hired.”

“You didn’t tell me you were going to.”

“I seldom tell a client what I’m going to do. I tell you now because I need your help. That gesture brought Mr. Cramer and he brought the fact that it would be fatuous to proceed on the assumption that one of the others had premeditated the murder of Paul Jerin. But, holding to my assumption that your father hadn’t, one of the others must have. Why'Jerin was nothing to him, but he went there, with the poison, prepared to kill him, and he did; and what happened'A chain of circumstances pointed so clearly to your father as the culprit that he is in custody without bail, in grave jeopardy. By the operation of cause, calculated cause, and effect. The three most telling points against your father were not accidental; they were essential factors in the calculation. Is that clear?”

“I think … yes.” She looked at me, and back at Wolfe. “You mean someone killed Paul because he knew they would think my father did it.”

“I do. And if it was Mr. Kalmus he also knew he would be in a position, as your father’s counsel, to protect his gain from his gambit.”

“Yes.” Her hands were clenched. “Of course.”

“So I propose to proceed on that theory, that Jerin was merely a pawn in a gambit and the true target was your father. If I continue to assume your father’s innocence, no other theory is tenable. That gives me a totally new situation, for I now have indications, if the theory is to hold - some facts and some surmises. We’ll test them. To avoid verbal complexities I’ll call the murderer Kalmus, though I may be slandering him.”

He stuck a finger up. “The first fact. Kalmus knew that Jerin would drink or eat something during the game into which arsenic could be put. Preferably, he knew that Jerin would drink chocolate. Did he?”

Sally was frowning. “I don’t know. He may have. He may have heard me mention it,

or father may have told him. Paul always drank chocolate when he played chess with father.”

“That will serve.” Another finger. “The second fact. Kalmus knew what the arrangements were. He knew that Jerin would be alone in the library, and that he would be a messenger and so would have an opportunity to use the arsenic. Did he?”

“I don’t know, but he must have. Father must have told all of them, the messengers.”

Another finger. “The third fact. Kalmus knew that investigation would disclose an acceptable motive for your father. He knew of your association with Jerin and of your father’s attitude toward it. Did he?”

“He knew I knew Paul, of course. But my father’s attitude - if you mean he might have wanted to kill him, that’s just silly. He thought he was - well, what you called him yourself, a freak.”

“He disapproved of your associating with him?”

“He disapproved of my associating with various people. But he certainly didn’t have any -“

“If you please.” Wolfe snapped it. “This isn’t a court, and I’m not a prosecutor trying to convict your father. I’m merely asking if Kalmus knew that inquiry would reveal circumstances that could be regarded as a possible motive for your father. I take it that he did. Yes?”

“Well… yes.”

“That will do. So much for the facts. I call them facts because if one or more of them can be successfully challenged my theory is untenable. Now the surmises,

two of them. They can’t be tested, merely stated. They are desirable but not essential. First, Kalmus knew that your father would himself take the chocolate to Jerin. Ideally, he suggested it, but I’ll take less than the ideal. Second,

when Mr. Yerkes brought word that Jerin was indisposed, Kalmus suggested to your father that it might be well to dispose of the pot and cup. Since Kalmus was a messenger, he had had opportunity to observe that Jerin had drunk most of the chocolate. And he ran no risk of arousing suspicion of his good faith. Since Jerin had been taken ill suddenly, it was a natural precaution to suggest. You said yesterday that your father told you and your mother exactly what had happened. Did he say that anyone had suggested that he see to the pot and cup?”

“No.” Sally’s fists were so tight I could see the white on her knuckles. “I don’t believe it, Mr. Wolfe. I can’t believe it. Of course Archie was right, I thought Dan Kalmus might want… I thought he wouldn’t do everything he could,

everything he ought to do … but now you’re saying he killed Paul, he planned it, so my father would be arrested and convicted. I can’t believe it!”

“You need not. As I said, I specified Kalmus only to avoid verbal complexities.

It could have been one of the others - Hausman, Yerkes, Farrow - or even the cook or steward, though they are less probable. He must fit my three facts, and he should be eligible for my two surmises. Above all, he must meet the most obvious requirement, that he had a compelling reason to wish to ruin your father, to take his liberty if not his life. Do any of the others qualify'

Hausman, Yerkes, Farrow, the cook, or steward?”

She shook her head. Her mouth opened and shut, but no words came.

“One of them might, of course, without your knowledge. But that was another reason for specifying Kalmus; you had yourself supplied a possible inducement for him. And now, with this theory, I must of course see him in any case. If he is guiltless and is proceeding on the assumption that the death of Jerin was the sole and final objective of the murderer, unless I intervene your father is doomed. It may be that the fact known only to Kalmus and your father, mentioned in the note to your mother which Mr. Goodwin read, is relevant, but speculation on that would be futile. I must see Mr. Kalmus, peccant or not, and for that I need your help.” He swiveled. “Your notebook, Archie!”

I got it, and my pen. “Shoot.”

“Just a draft for Miss Blount. Any paper, no carbon. She will supply the salutation. I suppose my mother has told you that I am at Nero Wolfe’s house,

comma, and I am going to stay here until I am sure I have done all I can for my father. Period. Mr. Wolfe has a theory you should know about, comma, and you must come and talk with him tomorrow, comma, Wednesday. Period. He will be here all day and evening, comma, but is not available from nine to eleven in the morning and from four to six in the afternoon. Period. If you haven’t come by noon Thursday I shall see a newspaper reporter and tell him why I came here and why I don’t trust you to represent my father effectively.”

He turned to her. “From you to Mr. Kalmus, handwritten. On my letterhead or plain paper, as you prefer. Mr. Goodwin will take it to his office after lunch.”

“I won’t,” she said positively. “I couldn’t tell a reporter that. I couldn’t, I won’t.”

“Certainly you won’t. You won’t have to. He’ll come.”

“But if he doesn’t?”

“He will. If he doesn’t we’ll try something else. Notify him that you have engaged an attorney to take legal steps to have him superseded as your father’s counsel. I’m not a lawyer, but I know a good one, and the law has room for many stratagems.” He flattened his palm on the desk. “Miss Blount. I shall see Mr.

Kalmus, or quit. As you please.”

“Not quit.” She looked at me. “How does it … will you read it, Archie?”

I did so, including commas and periods.

She shook her head. “It’s not like me. He’ll know I didn’t write it.” She looked at Wolfe. “He’ll know you did.”

“Certainly he will. That is intended.”

“Well.” She took a breath. “But I won’t tell any reporter, no matter what happens.”

“That is not intended.” Wolfe twisted his head to look up at the wall clock.

“Before you write it, please make a phone call or two. Mr. Yerkes, Mr. Farrow,

Dr Avery. It’s just as well I didn’t see them before Mr. Cramer brought me that fact; it would have been wasted time and effort. Can you get them to come'At six o’clock or, preferably, after dinner, say at nine-thirty. Either separately or together.”

“I can try. What phone do I use'There isn’t one in my room.”

Wolfe’s lips tightened. A woman saying casually ‘my room,’ meaning a room in his house, was hard to take. I told her she could use my phone and went to get another chair to sit on while I typed the letter to Kalmus for her to copy.

Usually I know exactly what Wolfe is doing while he’s doing it, and why. I always know-afterwards exactly what he did, and nearly always I know why. But I’m still not dead sure, months later, that I know why he had Sally phone those guys and get them to come that day. At the time I not only wasn’t sure, I couldn’t even guess. He hates to work. When I return from an errand on a case and sit down to report, and he knows he must listen and listen hard, from the look he gives me you might think I had put ketchup in his beer. When a caller enters the office, even if he expects to pry out of him some essential fact on a tough one, from the welcome he gets you might think he had come to examine the income tax reports for the past ten years.

So why ask Sally to get people to work on both before and after dinner, before he had had a go at the most likely candidate'I didn’t get it. I now believe that though he wasn’t aware of it, he was grabbing at straws. He was pretending,

not only to Sally and me but also to himself, that the new situation, resulting from the fact Cramer had brought, was just dandy because it gave him a new approach. But actually what it amounted to was that it was now extremely close to certain that none of the other candidates had had a shadow of a reason to kill Paul Jerin, and therefore it took either a mule or a sap to stick to the basic assumption that Blount hadn’t. You can’t sit and enjoy a book, even a fascinating one about what happened in Africa a hundred thousand years ago,

while you’re fighting off a suspicion that you’re acting like a mule or a sap,

so you tell your client to get people to come to take your mind off your misery.

As I say, I’m not dead sure, but I suspect that was it. Of course it’s barely possible that even at that stage he had some vague notion in some corner of his skull of what had really happened that night at the Gambit Club, but I don’t think so. In that case he would have - but I’d better save that.

However, there wasn’t much work to the first interview, before dinner, with Morton Farrow. Yerkes, the banker, had told Sally he would come around nine-thirty, but the best she could get out of Avery, the doctor, was that he would try to make it some time during the evening. It had been decided after lunch, after I returned from taking the letter to Kalmus’ office - in a steel-and-glass fifty-story hive in the financial district where his firm had a whole floor - that Sally would not appear, and before six o’clock came she went up to her room. Farrow had said he would arrive at six but was twenty minutes late. I left it to Fritz to admit him, thinking he would consider it improper for a famous detective to answer a doorbell.

When Fritz ushered him to the office he came across to me with his hand out. I took it and let it go, and he turned to Wolfe, but Wolfe, who is always prepared for it, had turned to the Webster’s New International Dictionary, Second Edition, leather-bound, on the stand at his elbow, and was busy turning pages.

Farrow stood and watched him for five seconds and then turned back to me and boomed, “Where’s Sally?’ I told him she was upstairs and might be down later,

and indicated the red leather chair, and, when he was seated and it was safe,

Wolfe closed the dictionary and swiveled.

“Good evening,” he said. “I’m Nero Wolfe. You told Miss Blount you couldn’t stay long.”

Farrow nodded. “I’ve got a dinner date.” Twice as loud as necessary. He glanced at his wrist. “I’ll have to trot along in half an hour, but that should be enough. I couldn’t make it by six, couldn’t get away. With the big boss gone I’ve got my hands full. I was glad Sally called me. She said you wanted to see me, and I wanted to see you. I know her, and of course you don’t. She’s a good kid, and I’m all for her, but like everybody else she has kinks. Apparently she has sold you a bill of goods. I’m a salesman myself, a sales manager for a hundred-million-dollar corporation, but it depends on what you’re selling. Sally just doesn’t understand her mother, my aunt, and never will. Of course that’s strictly a family matter, but she’s brought it into this mess herself, she’s sold you on it, and I’ve got to set you straight. She’s got you believing that there’s something between my aunt and Dan Kalmus. That’s plain moonshine.

Anybody who knows my Auntyanna - have you ever seen her?”

“No.” Wolfe was regarding him without enthusiasm.

“If she wanted to she could have something not only with Kalmus but with about any man she wanted to pick. I’m her nephew, so you might think I’m prejudiced,

but ask anyone. But it’s wasted on her because she’s strictly a one-man woman,

and she’s married to the man. Sally knows that, she can’t help but know it, but you know how it is with daughters. Or do you?”

“No.”

“It’s always one way or the other, either the mother is jealous of the daughter or the daughter is jealous of the mother. It never fails. Give me ten minutes with any mother and daughter and I’ll tell you how it stands, and with my Auntyanna and Sally I’ve had years. This idea of Sally’s, the idea that Kalmus will cross up Uncle Matt so he can make a play for her mother, that’s pure crap.

She may even think her mother knows it or suspects it but pretends not to. Does she?”

“No.”

“I’ll bet she does. A daughter jealous of a mother can think anything. So to protect her father she comes and hires you, and what good does that do'The fact remains that he arranged it, Jerin being there at the club, and he took the chocolate to him, and he got the cup and pot and washed them out. You may be a great detective, but you can’t change the facts.”

Wolfe grunted. “Then you think Mr. Blount is guilty.”

“Of course I don’t. I’m his nephew. I only say you can’t change the evidence.”

“I can try to interpret it. Are you a chess player, Mr. Farrow?”

“I play at it. I’m all right the first three or four moves, any opening from the Ruy Lopez to the Caro-Kann, but I soon get lost. My uncle got me started at it because he thinks it develops the brain. I’m not so sure. Look at Bobby Fischer,

the American champion. Has he got a brain'If I’ve developed enough to handle a hundred-million-dollar corporation, and that’s what I’ve been doing for two weeks now, I don’t think playing chess has helped me any. I’m cut out to be a top executive, not to sit and concentrate for half an hour and then push a pawn.”

“I understand you didn’t play one of the boards that evening, against Mr.

Jerin.”

“Hell no. He would have mated me in ten moves. I was one of the messengers. I was there in the library with Jerin, reporting a move from Table Ten, when Uncle Matt came up with the chocolate for him.”

“On a tray. The pot, a cup and saucer, and a napkin.”

“Yes.”

“Did your uncle linger or did he leave at once, to return to the other room and his chessboard?”

“He didn’t linger. He put the tray on the table and left. I’ve been over this several times with the police.”

“Then you may oblige me in my attempt to interpret the evidence. It seems unlikely that Mr. Blount put arsenic in the chocolate while in the kitchen,

since the steward and cook were there. He might have done it while mounting the stairs, which are steep and narrow, but it would have been awkward. He didn’t do it after entering the library, for you were there and would have seen him, and after that he remained at his chessboard until word came that Jerin was ill. So his one opportunity was on the stairs, whereas each of the messengers had an opportunity each time he entered the library to report a move. Correct?”

“Not if I understand you.” Farrow reversed his crossed legs. “Do you mean one of the messengers could have put the arsenic in the chocolate?”

“I do.”

“With Jerin sitting right there'Right under his nose?”

“He might have closed his eyes to concentrate. I often do. Or he might have got up to pace the floor and turned his back.”

“He might have, but he didn’t. I went in there to report a move about thirty times, and he never moved from the couch, and his eyes were open. Anyway - of course you know who the messengers were, besides me?”

Wolfe nodded. “Mr. Yerkes, Mr. Kalmus, Mr. Hausman.”

“Then how silly can you get'One of them poisoned the chocolate?”

“I’m examining the evidence. They had opportunity. You don’t think it conceivable?”

“I certainly don’t!”

“Indeed.” Wolfe scratched his chin. “That leaves only the steward, Mr. Nash, and the cook, Mr. Laghi. Which one do you consider most likely?”

“Neither one.” Farrow flipped a hand. “You realize I’ve been over all this, with the police and at the District Attorney’s office. If there’s any possible reason why Nash or Tony would have done it, I don’t know what it is, and the police would have dug it up.”

“Then you exclude them?”

“If the cops do, I do.”

“Then you’re up a stump, Mr. Farrow. You’ve excluded everybody. No one put arsenic in the chocolate. Can you explain how it got into Mr. Jerin?”

“I don’t have to. That’s not up to me, it’s up to the police.” He uncrossed his legs. He looked at his watch. “All right, I came here to say something and I’ve said it. Before I leave I want to see my cousin. Where is she?”

Wolfe looked at me, putting it up to the supposed expert on women. It seemed to me that the situation called more for an expert on top executives, but I was for anything that might possibly give a gleam of light or hope, so I said I would ask her and got up and headed for the hall and the stairs. Mounting the two flights, I found that I wouldn’t have to knock; she was there at the landing with her shoes on. Halting on the third step from the top, I asked her, “Could you hear?”

“I wasn’t trying to,” she said. “I was wanting to go down, but Mr. Wolfe said not to. Of course I could hear his voice. What does he say?”

“He’s a psychologist. He says you have kinks. He says it’s always one way or the other, either the mother is jealous of the daughter or the daughter is jealous of the mother, and a daughter jealous of a mother can think anything. He wants to see you before he goes, probably to straighten out a kink or two, and if you would like -“

“What does he say about Dan Kalmus?”

“That’s one of your kinks. Your idea about Kalmus is pure crap. You may even -“

She moved. I had to either sidestep or get bumped, so I made room for her to get by, and had another look at the nice shoulders and the neck curve as I followed her down. As we entered the office Farrow twisted around in his chair and then arose, and apparently he intended to give her a cousinly kiss, but the look on her face stopped him. It certainly would have stopped me. He was starting, “Now look here, Sal, you - ‘, but she stopped that also.

“You too,” she said, with more scorch than I would have thought she had in her.

“You would like it too, wouldn’t you'You think she would have it all, she would own everything, and she would let you run it. You would think that, but you’re wrong. You’re always wrong. She would let him run it; that’s what he’s after,

besides her. You’re just a fool, a complete fool, you always have been.”

She turned and went, to the door and on out. Farrow stood and gawked at her back, then wheeled to Wolfe, extended his hands, palms up, and waggled his head.

“By God,” he said, “there you are. Calling me a fool. What did I tell you'

Calling me a fool!”