Homicide Trinity by Rex Stout

his handkerchief. Also that if we had come down a little

sooner—”

“Shut up!”

“Yes, sir.”

“This is insupportable.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I will not accept it.”

“No, sir. I could bum the tie and we could tell Cramer

that whatever he used he must have waited until he

was sure she was dead and then removed it and took

it—”

The Homicide Trinity 13

“Shut up. She told you that nobody knew she came

here.”

“Bah,” I said. “Not a chance and you know it. We’re

stuck. I put off calling until you came down only to be

polite. If I put it off any longer that will only make it

worse because I’ll have to tell them the exact time I

found her.” I looked at my wrist. “It’s already been

twenty-one minutes. Would you rather make the call

yourself?”

No reply. He was staring down at the necktie, with

his jaw set and his mouth so tight he had no lips. I gave

him five seconds, to be polite, and then went to the

kitchen, to the phone on the table where I ate breakfast,

and dialed a number.

Chapter 2

Inspector Cramer of Homicide West finished the

last page of the statement I had typed and signed,

put it on top of the other pages on the table, tapped

it with a finger, and spoke. “I still think you’re lying,

Goodwin.”

It was a quarter past eleven. We were in the dining

room. The gang of scientists had finished in the office

and departed, and it was no longer out of bounds, but I

had no special desire to move back in. For one thing,

they had taken the rug, along with Wolfe’s necktie and

the paperweight and a few other items. Of course they

had also taken Bertha Aaron, so I wouldn’t have to see

her again, but even so I was perfectly willing to stay in

the dining room. They had brought the typewriter

there after the fingerprint detail had finished with it, so

I could type the statement.

Now, after nearly five hours, they were gone, all

except Sergeant Purley Stebbins, who was in the office

14 Rex Stout

using the phone, and Cramer. Fritz was in the kitchen,

on his third bottle of wine, absolutely miserable. Added

to the humiliation of a homicide in the house he kept

was the incredible fact that Wolfe had passed up a meal.

He had refused to eat a bite. Around eight o’clock he

had gone up to his room, and Fritz had gone up twice

with a tray, and he had only snarled at him. When I had

gone up at 10:30 with a statement for him to sign, and

told him they were taking the rug, he made a noise but

had no words. With all that for background in addition

to my personal reactions, it was no wonder that when

Cramer told me he still thought I was lying I was

outspoken.

“I’ve been trying for years,” I said, “to think who it is

you remind me of. I just remembered. It was a certain

animal I saw once in a cage. It begins with B. Are you

going to take me down or not?”

“No.” His big round face is always redder at night,

making his gray hair look whiter. “You can save the

wisecracks. You wouldn’t lie about anything that can

be checked, but we can’t check your account of what she

told you. She’s dead. Accepting your statement, and

Wolfe’s, that you have never had any dealings with her

or anyone connected with that law firm, you might still

save something for your private use—or change some-

thing. One thing especially. You ask me to believe that

she told—”

“Excuse me. I don’t care a single measly damn what

you believe. Neither does Mr. Wolfe. You can’t name

anything we wouldn’t rather have done than report

what happened, but we had no choice, so we reported it

and you have our statements. If you know what she said

better than I do, that’s fine with me.”

“I was talking,” he said.

“Yeah. I was interrupting.”

“You say that she gave you all those details, how she

saw a member of the firm in a cheap restaurant or

lunchroom with an opposing client, the day she saw

him, her telling him about it this afternoon, all the rest

of it, including naming Mrs. Sorell, but she didn’t name

The Homicide Trinity 15

the member of the firm. I don’t believe it.” He tapped

the statement and his head came forward. “And I’m

telling you this, Goodwin. If you use that name for your

private purposes and profit, and that includes Wolfe, if

you get yourselves hired to investigate this murder and

you use information you have withheld from me to solve

the case and collect a fee, I’ll get you for it if it costs me

an eye!”

I cocked my head. “Look,” I said. “Apparently you

don’t realize. It’s already been on the radio, and tomor-

row it will be in the papers, that a woman who had come

to consult Nero Wolfe was murdered in his office, stran-

gled with his necktie, while he was up playing with his

orchids and chatting with Archie Goodwin. I can hear

the horse laugh from here. Mr. Wolfe couldn’t swallow

any dinner; he wouldn’t even try. We knew and felt all

this the second we saw her there on the floor. If we had

known which member of the firm it was, if she had told

me his name, what would we have done? You ought to

know, since you claim you know us. I would have gone

after him. Mr. Wolfe would have left the office, shut the

door, and gone to the kitchen, and would have been

there drinking beer when Fritz came home. When he

went to the office and discovered the body would have

depended on when and what he heard from me. With

any luck I would have got here with the murderer

before you and the scientists arrived. That wouldn’t

have erased the fact that she had been strangled with

his necktie, but it would have blurred it. I give you this

just to show you that you don’t know us as well as you

think you do. As for your believing me, I couldn’t care

less.”

His sharp gray eyes were narrowed at me. “So you

would have gone and got him. So he killed her. Huh?

How did he know she was here? How did he get in?”

I produced a word I’ll leave out, and added, “Again? I

have discussed that with Stebbins, and Rowcliff, and

you. Now again?”

“What the hell,” he said. He folded the statement and

stuck it in his pocket, shoved his chair back, got up,

16 Rex Stout

growled at me, “If it costs me both eyes,” and tramped

out. From the hall he spoke to Stebbins in the office. It

will give you some idea of how low I was when I say that

I didn’t even go to the hall to see that they took only

what belonged to them. You might think that after

being in the house five hours Purley would have

stepped to the door to say good night, but no. I heard

the front door close with a bang, so it was Purley.

Cramer never banged doors.

I slumped further down in my chair. At twenty min-

utes to midnight I said aloud, “I could go for a walk,” but

apparently that didn’t appeal to me. At 11:45 I arose,

picked up the carbons of my statement, went to the

office, and put them in a drawer of my desk. Looking

around, I saw that they had left it in fairly decent shape.

I went and brought the typewriter and put it where it

belonged, tried the door of the safe, went to the hall to

see that the front door was locked and put the chain bolt

on, and proceeded to the kitchen. Fritz was in my

breakfast chair, humped over with his forehead on the

edge of the table.

“You’re pie-eyed,” I said.

His head came up. “No, Archie. I have tried, but no.”

“Go to bed.”

“No. He will be hungry.”

“He may never be hungry again. Pleasant dreams.”

I went to the hall, mounted one flight, turned left,

tapped on the door, heard a sound that was half growl

and half groan, opened the door, and entered. Wolfe,

fully clothed, wearing a necktie, was in the big chair

with a book.

“They’ve gone,” I said. “Last ones out, Cramer and

Stebbins. Fritz is standing watch in the kitchen expect-

ing a call for food. You’d better buzz him. Is there any

alternative to going to bed?”

“Can you sleep?” he demanded.

“Probably. I always have.”

“I can’t read.” He put the book down. “Have you ever

known me to show rancor?”

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48

Leave a Reply 0

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *