“It is,” Wolfe agreed. “It is understood that I am not engaging to expose the murderer.”
“No. I mean it’s understood. That’s for the police, and I must make it clear. “Nothing has been said to the police about Dahlmann’s displaying that paper from his wallet last evening, and nothing is going to be said by any of us, including Mr. Heery. The paper has not been mentioned and will not be. The police will of course question the five contestants, probably they already are, and it might be thought certain that some of them will tell about the paper, but I think it doubtful. —What you said, Pat?”
O’Garro nodded. “I only said, from seeing them last evening, they’re not fools. They’re anything but fools, and there’s half a million dollars at stake, not to mention the other prizes. My guess is none of them will mention it. What do you think, Vern?”
“The same,” Assa agreed, “except possibly that old hellcat, the Frazee woman. God knows what she’ll say.”
“But,” Hansen told Wolfe, “even if they do mention it, and the police ask us why we didn’t, the answer is that we didn’t think it worth mentioning because it was so obvious that Dahlmann was only joking. At least it was obvious to us, and we assumed it was to the others. If the police don’t accept that, we shall nevertheless utterly reject the notion that Dahlmann had the answers to those five verses on a paper in his wallet, and the corollary that someone killed him to get it. The police are disposed to be discreet, and they often are, but a thing like that would certainly get out.”
He had slid so far forward in the red leather chair that he would certainly slide off. He went on, “You may not fully realize how desperate it is. This contest is the most spectacular promotion of the century. A million in prizes with two million contestants, and the whole country is waiting to see the winner. Naturally we have thought of calling in those verses and preparing five new ones, but that would be risky. It would be an admission that we suspect one of them has secured the answers to those verses by killing Dahlmann, implying an admission that Dahlmann had the answers in his wallet. Any one or all of the five contestants could refuse to surrender the verses on the ground that they had accepted them in good faith, and that would be a frightful mess. If LBA declined to proceed as agreed they could sue and almost certainly collect.”
He took a piece of paper from his pocket and unfolded it. “This is a schedule of which each one of them has a copy.
“Susan Tescher, New York City, before noon April nineteenth.
“Carol Wheelock, Richmond, Virginia, before midnight April nineteenth.
“Philip Younger, Chicago, Illinois, before midnight April nineteenth.
“Harold Rollins, Burlington, Iowa, before midnight April nineteenth.
“Gertrude Frazee, Los Angeles, California, before midnight April twentieth.”
He returned the paper to his pocket and slid back in the chair, which was a relief. “That’s the postmark deadline for their answers, staggered as I said. It favors Miss Frazee, who was going to take a plane, but she held out for it. Since they’re being held in New York they might agree on an extension, but what if Miss Tescher, who lives here, refused? What if she went ahead and sent in her answers before her deadline? Where would we be?”
Wolfe grunted. “In a pickle.”
“We certainly would. There’s only one possible way out, to learn who got that paper, today or tomorrow if possible, but absolutely before midnight April twentieth, the last deadline. With proof of that we’ll have them licked. We can say to them, One of you—and we name him—stole the answers. That makes it impossible to proceed with those verses. Surrender them or not, as you please, but we’re going to give you five new verses and new deadlines, and award the prizes on the basis of your answers to them. They’ll have to take it. Under those circumstances they would have no alternative. Would they?”
“No,” Wolfe conceded. “But the one exposed as the purloiner of the answers wouldn’t have much opportunity for research. He would be jailed on a charge of murder.”
“That’s his lookout.”
“True. Also your guile would be disclosed. The police would know you had lied when you told them that you thought Dahlmann’s display of that paper last night was only a joke.”
“That can’t be helped. Anyway, they’ll have the murderer.”
“True again. Also,” Wolfe persisted, “you’re taking an excessive risk in assuming that I will find the thief, with evidence, within a week. I may not. If I don’t, you’re not in a pickle, you’re sunk. Before midnight April Twentieth? I have only this”-he tapped his forehead—“and Mr. Goodwin and a few men I can rely on. Whereas the police have thousands of men and vast resources and connections. I must suggest that you consider taking your problem to them just as you have brought it to me.”
“We have considered it. That wouldn’t even be risky, it would be certain. By tomorrow morning it would have got out that the answers to the contest had been stolen, and it would be a national scandal, and LBA would have a black eye they might never recover from.”
Wolfe was stubborn. “I must be sure you have thought it through. Even if I get the culprit before the deadline it will likewise come out that the answers were stolen.”
“Yes, but then we will have the thief, and we’ll have arranged to decide the contest in a way agreed to by everybody else concerned. A totally different situation. LBA will be admired and congratulated for dealing with a crisis promptly, boldly, and brilliantly.”
“Not by the police.”
“No. But by the advertising and business world, the press, and the American people.”
“I suppose so.” Wolfe’s head turned. “I would like to make sure of the decision to dodge with the police. You concur in it, Mr. Buff?”
Buffs big red face had been getting redder, and his brow was moist. “I do,” he said. “Because I have to.”
“Mr. O’Garro?”
“Yes. We had that out before we came to you.”
“Mr. Assa?”
“Yes. You’re wasting time!”
“No. If it were a simple matter of catching a murderer —but it isn’t. This is full of complexities, and I must know things.” Wolfe turned a palm up. “For example. If I were sure that the one who took the wallet actually got the paper with the answers, that would help. But what if he didn’t? What if the paper Dahlmann displayed was something else, and it was in fact a hoax, and the thief got nothing for his pains? That would make my job much more difficult and would require a completely different procedure.”
“Don’t worry,” O’Garro assured him. “It was the answers all right. I was there and saw him. Vern?”
“I would say twenty to one,” Assa declared. “Louis would get a kick out of showing them the paper with the answers, but just faking it, no. What do you think, Oliver?”
“You know quite well what I think.” Buff was grim. “It was strictly in character. At the age of thirty-two Louis Dahlmann was a great creative genius, and in another ten years he would have been a dominant figure in American advertising, another Lasker. That’s what we all thought, didn’t we? But he had that lunatic streak in him. Of course that paper was the answers; there’s not the slightest doubt. After you phoned me last night, Pat, I would have gone down to his place myself, but what was the use? Even if he had destroyed the paper to humor me, after I left he could have sat down and written another one just like it, and he probably would have. But now I wish I had. Right now the future of LBA is in more danger than at any time in the thirty-eight years I’ve been with it. On account of him! If he were here now, alive, I tell you it would be hard for me to—” He tightened his lips and let the sentence hang.
Wolfe went to the lawyer. “Are you also convinced, Mr. Hansen, that it was no hoax?”
“I am.”
“Then I’ll proceed on that assumption until it is disproved. I must first see the five contestants, preferably not together, even though time is pressing.” He glanced up at the wall clock. “They may already be engaged with the police, but we’ll try. One of you will phone and arrange for one of them to be here at twelve-thirty, and arrange also for the others-one at three, one at six, one at—”
“Why six?” Assa demanded. “Good God, you won’t need three hours!”
“I hope not. One should be plenty. But from four to six I’ll be occupied with other matters, and—“