Triple Jeopardy (9 page)

Well go, Tina said, back to her gasping whisper again. We wont bother you any more. Come, Carl -

Skip it, I said curtly. If this amounts to anything more than petty larceny youd be nabbed sure as hell. This is my day for breaking a rule, and Ill be back soon. Come on, Ill put you in here, and I advise you to stay put.

They looked at each other.

I like him, Carl said.

Tina moved. She came and passed through into the front room, and Carl was right behind her.

I told them to sit down and relax and not get restless, shut the door, went to the kitchen, where Wolfe was seated at the far end of the long table, drinking beer, and told him, The check from Pendexter came and has been deposited. That pair of foreigners have got themselves in a mess. I put them in the front room and told them to stay there until I get back.

Where are you going'he demanded.

A little detective work, not in your class. I wont be gone long. You can dock me.

I left.

The Goldenrod Barber Shop was in the basement of an office building on Lexington Avenue in the upper Thirties. I had been patronizing one of the staff, named Ed,

for several years. Formerly, from away back, Wolfe had gone to an artist in a shop on Twenty-eighth Street, named Fletcher. When Fletcher had retired a couple of years ago Wolfe had switched to Goldenrod and tried my man, Ed, hadnt liked him, had experimented with the rest of the Goldenrod staff, and had settled on Jimmie. His position now, after two years, was that Jimmie was no Fletcher,

especially with a shampoo, but that he was some better than tolerable.

Goldenrod, with only six chairs and usually only four of them manned, and two manicures, was no Framinellis, but it was well equipped and clean, and anyhow it had Ed, who was a little rough at tilting a head maybe but knew exactly how to handle my hair and had a razor so sharp and slick you never knew it was on you.

I hadnt shaved that morning and as, at noon, I paid the taxi driver, entered the building, and descended the stairs to the basement, my plan of campaign was simple. I would get in Eds chair, waiting if necessary, and ask him to give me a once-over, and the rest would be easy.

But it was neither simple nor easy. A medium-sized mob of white-collar workers,

buzzing and chattering, was ranged three deep along the wall of the corridor facing the door of the shop. Others, passing by in both directions, were stopping to try to look in, and a flatfoot, posted in the doorway, was telling them to keep moving. That did not look promising, or else it did, if thats how you like things. I swerved aside and halted for a survey through the open door and the glass. Joel Fickler, the boss, was at the rack where Carl usually presided, taking a mans coat to put on a hanger. A man with his hat on was backed up to the cashiers counter, with his elbows on it, facing the whole shop. Two other men with their hats on were seated near the middle of the row of chairs for waiting customers, one of them next to the little table for magazines. They were discussing something without much enthusiasm. Two of the barbers chairs, Eds and Toms, were occupied. The other two barbers, Jimmie and Philip, were on their stools against the wall. Janet, the other manicure,

was not in sight.

I stepped to the doorway and was going on in. The flatfoot blocked me.

I lifted my brows at him. Whats all the excitement'

Accident in here. No one allowed in.

How did the customers in the chairs get in'Im a customer.

Only customers with appointments. You got one'

Certainly. I stuck my head through the doorway and yelled, Ed! How soon'

The man leaning on the counter straightened up and turned for a look. At sight of me he grunted. Ill be damned. Who whistled for you'

The presence of my old friend and enemy Sergeant Purley Stebbins of Manhattan Homicide gave the thing an entirely different flavor. Up to then I had just been mildly curious, floating along. Now all my nerves and muscles snapped to attention. Sergeant Stebbins is not interested in petty larceny. I didnt care for the possibility of having shown a pair of murderers to chairs in our front room.

Good God, Purley grumbled, is this going to turn into one of them Nero Wolfe babies'

Not unless you turn it. I grinned at him. Whatever it is, I dropped in for a shave, thats all, and here you boys are, to my surprise. The flatfoot had given me leeway, and I had crossed the sill. Im a regular customer here. I turned to Fickler, who had trotted over to us. How long have I been leaving my hair here, Joel'

None of Ficklers bones were anywhere near the surface - except on his bald head. He was six inches shorter than me, which may have been one reason why I had never got a straight look into his narrow black eyes. He had never liked me much since the day he had forgotten to list an appointment with Ed had made on the phone, and I, under provocation, had made a few pointed remarks. Now he looked as if he had been annoyed by something much worse than remarks.

Over six years, Mr. Goodwin, he said. This, he told Purley, is the famous detective, Mr. Archie Goodwin. Mr. Nero Wolfe comes here too.

The hell he does. Purley, scowling at me, said in a certain tone, Famous.

I shrugged. Just a burden. A damn nuisance.

Yeah. Dont let it get you down. You just dropped in for a shave'

Yes, sir. Write it down, and Ill sign it.

Whos your barber'

Ed.

Thats Graboff. Hes busy.

So I see. Im not pressed. Ill chat with you or read a magazine or get a manicure.

I dont feel like chatting. Purley had not relaxed the scowl. You know a guy that works here named Carl Vardas'And his wife, Tina, a manicure'

I know Carl well enough to pay him a dime for my hat and coat and tie. I cant say I know Tina, but of course Ive seen her here. Why'

Im just asking. Theres no law against your coming here for a shave, since you need one and this is where you come, but the sight of either you or Wolfe makes me want to scratch. No wonder, huh'So to have it on the record in case its needed, have you seen Vardas or his wife this morning'

Sure I have. I stretched my neck to get closer to his ear and whispered, I put them in our front room and told them to wait, and beat it up here to tell you, and if youll step on it -

I dont care for gags, he growled. Not right now. They killed a cop, or one of them did. You know how much we like that. I did indeed and adjusted my face accordingly.

The hell they did. One of yours'Did I know him'

No. A dick from die Twentieth Precinct, Jake Wallen.

Where and when'

This morning, right here. The other side of that partition, in her manicure booth. Stuck a long pair of scissors in his back and got his pump. Apparently he never made a sound, but them massage things are going here off and on. By the time he was found they had gone. It took us an hour to find out where they lived, and when we got there they had been and got their stuff and beat it.

I grunted sympathetically. Is it tied up'Prints on the scissors or something'

Well do all right without prints, Purley said grimly.

Didnt I say they lammed'

Yes, but, I objected, not aggressively, some people can get awful scared at sight of a man with scissors sticking in his back. I wasnt intimate with Carl,

but he didnt strike me as a man who would stab a cop just on principle. Was Wallen here to take him'

Purleys reply was stopped before it got started. Tom had finished with his customer, and the two men with hats on in the row of chairs ranged along the partition were keeping their eyes on the customer as he went to the rack for his tie.

Tom, having brushed himself off, had walked to the front and up to us. Usually Tom bounced around like a high-school kid - from his chair to the wall cabinet and back again, or over to the steamer behind the partition for a hot towel - in spite of his white-haired sixty-some years, but today his feet dragged. Nor did he tell me hello, though he gave me a sort of a glance before he spoke to Purley.

Its my lunchtime, Sergeant. I just go to the cafeteria at the end of the hall.

Purley called a name that sounded like Joffe, and one of the dicks on a chair by the partition got up and came.

Yerkes is going to lunch, Purley told him. Go along and stay with him.

I want to phone my wife, Tom said resolutely.

Why not'Stay with him, Joffe.

Yes, sir.

They went, with Tom in front. Purley and I moved out of the way as the customer approached to pay his check and Fielder sidled around behind the cash register.

I thought, I said politely, you had settled for Carl and Tina. Why does Tom have to have company at lunch'

We havent got Carl and Tina.

But you soon will have, the way the personnel feels about cop-killers. Why pester these innocent barbers'If one of them gets nervous and slices a customer, then what'

Purley merely snarled.

I stiffened. Excuse me. Im not so partial to cop-killers either. It seemed only natural to show some interest. Luckily I can read, so Ill catch it in the evening paper.

Dont bust a gut. Purleys eyes were following the customer as he walked to the door and on out past the flatfoot. Sure well get Carl and Tina, but if you dont mind well just watch these guys appetites. You asked what Jake Wallen was here for.

I asked if he came to take Carl.

Yeah. I think he did but I cant prove it yet. Last night around midnight a couple of pedestrians, two women, were hit by a car at Eighty-first and Broadway. Both killed. The car kept going. It was found later parked at Ninety-sixth and Broadway, just across from the subway entrance. We havent found anyone who saw the driver, either at the scene of the accident or where the car was parked. The car was hot. It had been parked by its owner at eight oclock on Forty-eighth Street between Ninth and Tenth, and was gone when he went for it at eleven-thirty.

Purley paused to watch a customer enter. The customer got past the flatfoot with Joel Ficklers help, left things at the rack, and went and got on Jimmies chair. Purley returned to me. When the car was spotted by a squad car at Ninety-sixth and Broadway with a dented fender and blood and other items that tagged it, the Twentieth Precinct sent Jake Wallen to it. He was the first one to give it a look. Later, of course, there was a gang from all over, including the laboratory, before they moved it. Wallen was supposed to go home and to bed at eight in the morning when his trick ended, but he didnt. He phoned his wife that he had a hot lead on a hit-and-run killer and was going to handle it himself and grab a promotion. Not only that, he phoned the owner of the car at his home in Yonkers, and asked him if he had any connection with the Goldenrod Barber Shop or knew anyone who had, or if he had ever been there. The owner had never heard of it. Of course weve collected all this since we were called here at ten-fifteen and found Wallen DOA with scissors in his back.

I was frowning. But what gave him the lead to this shop'

Wed like to know. It had to be something he found in the car, we dont know what. The goddam fool kept it to himself and came here and got killed.

Didnt he show it or mention it to anyone here'

They say not. All he had with him was a newspaper. Weve got it - todays News,

the early, out last night. We cant spot anything in it. There was nothing in his pockets, nothing on him, that helps any.

I humphed. Fool is right. Even if he had cleaned it up he wouldnt have grabbed a promotion. He would have been more apt to grab a uniform and a beat.

Yeah, he was that kind. Theres too many of that kind. Not to mention names,

but these precinct men -

A phone rang. Fickler, by the cash register, looked at Purley, who stepped to the counter where the phone was and answered the call. It was for him. When,

after a minute, it seemed to be going on, I moved away and had gone a few places when a voice came.

Hello, Mr. Goodwin.

It was Jimmie, Wolfes man, using comb and scissors above !iis customers right ear. He was the youngest of the staff, about my age, and by far the handsomest,

with curly lips and white teeth and dancing dark eyes. I had never understood why he wasnt at Framinellis. I told him hello.

Mr. Wolfe ought to be here, he said.

Under the circumstances I thought that a little tactless, and was even prepared to tell him so when Ed called to me from two chairs down. Fifteen minutes, Mr.

Goodwin'All right'

I told him okay, I would wait, went to the rack and undressed to my shirt, and crossed to one of the chairs over by the partition, next to the table with magazines. I thought it would be fitting to pick up a magazine, but I had already read the one on top, the latest New Yorker, and the one on top on the shelf below was the Time of two weeks ago. So I leaned back and let my eyes go,

slow motion, from left to right and back again. Though I had been coming there for six years I didnt really know those people, in spite of the reputation barbers have as conversationalists. I knew that Fielder, the boss, had once been attacked bodily there in the shop by his ex-wife; that Philip had had two sons killed in World War II; that Tom had once been accused by Fickler of swiping lotions and other supplies and had slapped Ficklers face; that Ed played the horses and was always in debt; that Jimmie had to be watched or he would take magazines from the shop while they were still current; and that Janet, who had only been there a year, was suspected of having a sideline, maybe dope peddling.

Aside from such items as those, they were strangers.

Suddenly Janet was there in front of me. She had come from around the end of the partition, and not alone. The man with her was a broad-shouldered husky,

gray-haired and gray-eyed, with an unlit cigar slanting up from a corner of his mouth. His eyes swept the whole shop, and since he started at the far right he ended up at me.

He stared. For Gods sake, he muttered. You'Now what'

I was surprised for a second to see Inspector Cramer himself, head of Manhattan Homicide, there on the job. But even an inspector likes to be well thought of by the rank and file, and here it was no mere citizen who had met his end but one of them. The whole force would appreciate it. Besides, I have to admit hes a good cop.

Just waiting for a shave, I told him. Im an old customer here. Ask Purley.

Purley came over and verified me, but Cramer checked with Ed himself. Then he drew Purley aside, and they mumbled back and forth a while, after which Cramer summoned Philip and escorted him around the end of the partition.

Janet seated herself in the chair next to mine. She looked even better in profile than head on, with her nice chin and straight little nose and long home-grown lashes. I felt a little in debt to her for the mild pleasure I had got occasionally as I sat in Eds chair and glanced at her while she worked on the customer in the next chair.

I was wondering where you were, I remarked.

She turned to me. She wasnt old enough to have wrinkles or seams but she looked old enough then. She was putting a strain on every muscle in her face, and it certainly showed.