my memo pad, tore the sheet off, and handed it to
Wolfe. He glanced at it and looked at Jett.
“We’re at an impasse. You refuse to answer further
questions unless I tell you the contents of the state-
ment, and I won’t do that. Mr. Edey and Mr. Heydecker
are here. Will you stay or go?”
“Edey?” Jett stood up. “Heydecker? Here?”
“Yes, sir. Uninvited and unexpected. You may leave
unseen if you wish.”
Evidently he didn’t wish anything except to see the
statement. He didn’t want to go and he didn’t want to
stay. When it became apparent that he wasn’t going to
decide, Wolfe decided for him by giving me a nod, and I
went and opened the connecting door and told the new-
comers to come in. Then I stepped aside and looked on,
at their surprise at seeing Jett, their manners as they
introduced themselves to Wolfe, the way they handled
their eyes. I had never completely squelched the idea
that when you are in a room with three men and you
know that one of them committed a murder, especially
when he committed it in that room only eighteen hours
ago, it will show if you watch close enough. I knew from
experience that the idea wasn’t worth a damn, that if
you did see something that seemed to point you were
probably wrong, but I still had it and still have it. I was
so busy with it that I didn’t go to my desk and sit until
Jett was back in the red leather chair and the newcom-
ers were on two of the yellow ones, facing Wolfe, and
Heydecker, the big broad-shouldered man, was speak-
ing.
His eyes were at Jett. “We came,” he said, “for infor-
mation, and I suppose you did too, Greg. Unless you got
more at the DA’s office than we did.”
44 Rex Stout
“I got damn little,” Jett said. “I didn’t even see
Howie, my old schoolmate. They didn’t answer ques-
tions, they asked them. A lot of them I didn’t answer
and they shouldn’t have been asked—about our affairs
and our clients. Naturally I answered the relevant
ones, the routine stuff about my relations with Bertha
Aaron and my whereabouts and movements yesterday
afternoon. Not only mine, but others’. Particularly if
anyone had spoken at length with Bertha, and if anyone
had left the office with her or soon after her. Obviously
they think she was killed by someone connected with
the firm, but they don’t say why—at least not to me.”
“Nor me,” Edey said. He was the compact under-
sized one and his thin tenor fitted him fine.
“Nor me,” Heydecker said. “What has Wolfe told
you?”
“Not much. I haven’t been here long.” Jett looked at
Wolfe.
Wolfe obliged. He cleared his throat. “I presume that
you gentlemen have come with the same purpose as Mr.
Jett. He asks for any information that will give light,
with emphasis on the reason for Miss Aaron’s coming to
see me. He assumes—”
Heydecker cut in. “That’s it. What was she here for?”
“If you please. He assumes from the circumstances
that she was killed because she was here, to prevent a
revelation she meant to make, and that is plausible. But
surely the police and the District Attorney haven’t
withheld all of the details from you. Haven’t they told
you that she didn’t see me?”
“No,” Edey said. “They haven’t told me.”
“Nor me,” Heydecker said.
“Then I tell you. She came without appointment. Mr.
Goodwin admitted her. She asked to see me on a confi-
dential matter. I was engaged elsewhere, upstairs, and
Mr. Goodwin came to tell me she was here. We had a
matter under consideration and discussed it at some
length, and when we came down her dead body was
here.” He pointed at Heydecker’s feet. “There. So she
The Homicide Trinity 45
couldn’t tell me what she came for, since I never saw
her alive.”
“Then I don’t get it,” Edey declared. The brilliant
idea man was using his brain. “If she didn’t tell you, you
couldn’t tell the police or the District Attorney. But if
they don’t know what she came to see you about, why
do they think she was killed by someone in our office?
It’s conceivable that they got that information from
someone else, but so soon? They started in on me at
seven o’clock this morning. And I conclude from their
questions that they don’t merely think it, they think
they know it.”
“They do, unquestionably,” Heydecker agreed. “Mr.
Goodwin. You admitted her. She was alone?” That was
the brilliant trial lawyer.
“Yes.” Since we weren’t before the bench I omitted
the “sir.”
“You saw no one else around? On the sidewalk?”
“No. Of course it was dark. It was twenty minutes
past five. On January fifth the sun set at 4:46.” By gum,
he wasn’t going to trap me.
“You conducted her to this room?”
“Yes.”
“Leaving the outer door open perhaps?”
“No.”
“Are you certain of that?”
“Yes. If I have one habit that’s totally automatic, it’s
closing that door and making sure it’s locked.”
“Automatic habits are dangerous things, Mr. Good-
win. Sometimes they fail you. When you brought her to
this room did you sit?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Where I am now.”
“Where did she sit?”
“About where you are. About three feet closer to
me.”
“What did she say?”
“That she wanted to see Nero Wolfe about something
46 Rex Stout
urgent. No, she said that at the door. She said her case
was private and very confidential.”
“She used the word ‘case’?”
“Yes.”
“What else did she say?”
“That her name was Bertha Aaron and she was the
private secretary of Mr. Lament Otis, senior partner in
the law firm of Otis, Edey, Heydecker, and Jett.”
“What else did she say?”
Naturally I had known that the time would come to
lie, and decided this was it. “Nothing,” I said.
“Absolutely nothing?”
“Right.”
“You are Nero Wolfe’s confidential assistant. He was
engaged elsewhere. Do you expect me to believe that
you did not insist on knowing the nature of her case
before you went to him?”
The phone rang. “Not if you’d rather not,” I said, and
swiveled, lifted the receiver and spoke. “Nero Wolfe’s
residence, Archie Goodwin speaking.”
I recognized the voice. “This is Rita Sorell, Mr. Good-
win. I have decided—”
“Hold it please. Just a second.” I pressed a palm over
the transmitter and told Wolfe, “That woman you sent
a card to. The one who told me I was handsome.” He
reached for his receiver and put it to his ear and I
returned to mine. “Okay. You have decided?”
“I have decided that it will be best to tell you what
you came this morning to find out. I have decided that
you were too clever for me, not mentioning at all what
you had written on the card, when that was what you
came for. Your saying that you made it up, that you
tried to write something that would make me curious—
you didn’t expect me to believe that. You were too
clever for me. So I might as well confess, since you
already know it. I did sit with a man in a booth in a
lunchroom one evening last week—what evening was
it?”
“Monday.”
The Homicide Trinity 47
“That’s right. And you want to know who the man
was. Don’t you?”
“It would help.”
“I want to help. You are very handsome. His name is
Gregory Jett.”
“Many thanks. If you want to help—”
She had hung up.
Chapter 6
I cradled the receiver and rotated my chair. Wolfe
pushed his phone back and said, “She is a con-
founded nuisance.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I suppose we’ll have to humor her.”
“Yes, sir. Or shoot her.”
“Not a welcome option.” He arose. “Gentlemen, I
must ask you to excuse me. Come, Archie.” He headed
for the hall and I got up and followed. Turning left, he
pushed the door to the kitchen. Fritz was there at the
big table, chopping an onion. The door swung shut.
Wolfe turned to face me. “Very well. You know her.
You have seen her and talked with her. What about it?”
“I’d have to toss a coin. Several coins. You have seen
Jett and talked with him. It could be that she merely
wanted to find out if we already knew who it was, and if
so she might have named the right one and she might
not. Or it might have been a real squeal; she decided
that Jett killed Bertha Aaron, and either she loves
justice no matter what it costs her, or she was afraid
Jett might break and her spot would be too hot for
comfort. I prefer the latter. Or it wasn’t Jett, it was
Edey or Heydecker, and she is trying to ball it up—and
she may be sore at Jett on account of the episode. If it