“So can I.” She smiled. Seeing that smile, you would
never have dreamed that she was a champion blood-
sucker. I was about ready to doubt it myself. It was
pleasant to be on the receiving end of it.
“I could walk along behind you,” I offered, “and carry
your rubbers in case it snows.”
“I don’t walk much. It might be better to carry a gun.
You mentioned my husband. I honestly believe he is
capable of hiring someone to kill me. You’re
handsome—very handsome. Are you brave?”
“It depends. I probably would be if you were looking
on. By the way, now that I’m here, and this is a day I’ll
never forget, I might as well ask you something. Since
you saw my picture in the paper, I suppose you read
about what happened in Nero Wolfe’s office yesterday.
That woman murdered. Bertha Aaron. Yes?”
“I read part of it.” She made a face. “I don’t like to
read about murders.”
“Did you read who she was? Private secretary of
Lamont Otis, senior partner ofOtis, Edey, Heydecker,
and Jett, a law firm?”
She shook her head. “I didn’t notice.”
“I thought you might because they are your hus-
band’s attorneys. You know that, of course.”
“Oh.” Her eyes had widened. “Of course. I didn’t
notice.”
“I guess you didn’t read that part. You would have
noticed those names, since you know all four of them.
What I wanted to ask, did you know Bertha Aaron?”
“No.”
“I thought you might, since she was Otis’s secretary
and they have been your husband’s attorneys for years
and they handled a case for you once. You never met
her?”
“No.” She wasn’t smiling. “You seem to know a good
deal about that firm and my husband. You said that so
nicely, about being at my feet and my pictures in your
heart. So they sent you, or Nero Wolfe did, and he is
working for my husband. So?”
“No. He isn’t.”
“He’s working for that law firm, and that’s the same
thing.”
“No. He’s working for nobody but himself. He—”
“You’re lying.”
“I only allow myself so many lies a day and I’m
careful not to waste them. Mr. Wolfe is upset because
that woman was killed in his office, and he intends to
get even. He is working for no one, and he won’t be until
this is settled. He thought you might have known Ber-
tha Aaron and could tell me something about her that
would help.”
“I can’t.”
“That’s too bad. I’m still at your feet.”
“I like you there. You’re very handsome.” She smiled.
“I just had an idea. Would Nero Wolfe work for me?”
“He might. He doesn’t like some kinds of jobs. If he
did he’d soak you. If he has any pictures in his heart at
all, which I doubt, they are not of beautiful women—or
even homely ones. What would you want him to do?”
“I would rather tell him.”
She was meeting my eyes, with her long lashes low-
ered just enough for the best effect, and again I had to
hand it to her. You might have thought she hadn’t the
faintest idea that I was aware that she was ignoring
36 Rex Stout The Homicide Trinity 37
anything, and that I was ignoring it too. She was so
damn good that looking at her, meeting her eyes, I
actually considered the possibility that she really
thought I had made up that card from nothing.
“For that,” I said, “you would have to make an ap-
pointment at his office. He never leaves his house on
business.” I got a card from my case and handed it to
her. “There’s the address and phone number. Or if
you’d like to go now I’d be glad to take you, and he
might stretch a point and see you. He’ll be free until one
o’clock.”
“I wonder.” She smiled.
“You wonder what?”
“Nothing. I was talking to myself.” She shook her
head. “I won’t go now. Perhaps . . . I’ll think it over.”
She stood up. “I’m sorry I can’t help, I’m truly sorry,
but I had never met that—what was her name?”
“Bertha Aaron.” I was on my feet.
“I had never heard of her.” She glanced at the card,
the one I had handed her. “I may ring you later today.
I’ll think it over.”
She went with me to the foyer, and as I reached for
the doorknob she offered a hand and I took it. There
was nothing flabby about her clasp.
When you leave an elevator at the lobby floor of the
Churchill Towers you have three choices. To the right
is the main entrance. To the left and then right is a side
entrance, and to the left and left again is another. I left
by the main entrance, stopped a moment on the side-
walk to put my coat on and pull at my ear, and turned
downtown, in no hurry. At the corner I was joined by a
little guy with a big nose who looked, at first sight, as if
he might make forty bucks a week waxing floors. Actu-
ally Saul Panzer was the best operative in the metro-
politan area and his rate was ten dollars an hour.
“Any sign of a dick?” I asked him.
“None I know, and I think none I don’t know. You
saw her?”
“Yeah. I doubt if they’re on her. I stung her and she
may be moving. The boys are covering?”
“Yes. Fred at the north entrance and Orrie at the
south. I hope she takes the front.”
“So do I. See you in court.”
He wheeled and was gone, and I stepped to the curb
and flagged a taxi. It was 11:40 when it rolled to the
curb in front of the old brownstone on 35th Street.
After mounting the seven steps to the stoop, using
my key to get in, and putting my hat coat on the rack in
the hall, I went to the office. Wolfe would of course be
settled in his chair behind his desk with his current
book, since his morning session in the plant rooms
ended at eleven o’clock. But he wasn’t. His chair was
empty, but the red leather one was occupied, by a
stranger. I kept going for a look at his front, and said
good morning. He said good morning.
He was a poet above the neck, with deep-set dreamy
eyes, a wide sulky mouth, and a pointed modeled chin,
but he would have had to sell a lot of poems to pay for
that suit and shirt and tie, not to mention the Parvis of
London shoes. Having given him enough of a glance for
that, and not caring to ask him where Wolfe was, I
returned to the hall and turned left, toward the kitchen;
and there, in the alcove at the end of the hall, was Wolfe,
standing at the hole. The hole was through the wall at
eye level. On the office side it was covered by a picture
of a waterfall. On this side, in the alcove, it was covered
by nothing, and you could not only hear through but
also see through.
I didn’t stop. Pushing the two-way door to the
kitchen, I held it for Wolfe to enter and then let it swing
back.
“You forgot to leave a necktie on your desk,” I told
him.
He grunted. “We’ll discuss that some day, the neck-
tie. That is Gregory Jett. He has spent the morning at
the District Attorney’s office. I excused myself because
I wanted to hear from you before talking with him, and
I thought I might as well observe him.”
“Good idea. He might have muttered to himself, ‘By
golly, the rug is gone.’ Did he?”
38 Rex Stout
“No. Did you see that woman?”
“Yes, sir. She’s a gem. There is now no question
about Bertha Aaron’s basic fact, that a member of the
firm was with Mrs. Sorell in a lunchroom.”
“She admitted it?”
“No, sir, but she confirmed it. We talked for twenty
minutes, and she never mentioned the card after the
first half a minute, when she merely said it was crazy
and asked me where I got it. She told me I was hand-
some twice, she smiled at me six times, she said she had
never heard of Bertha Aaron, and she asked if you
would work for her. She may phone for an appointment.
Do you want it verbatim now?”
“Later will do. The men are there?”
“Yes. I spoke with Saul when I left. That’s wasted.
She’s not a fool, anything but. Of course it was a blow to
learn that that meeting in the lunchroom is known, but
she won’t panic. Also of course, she doesn’t know how
we got onto it. She may not have suspected that there
was any connection between that meeting and the mur-