Nero Wolfe – The Mother Hunt – Rex Stout

I’ve never been in Singapore. It’s nothing like that.

Good. What is it like?

I saw them right here. In this building.

When?

Last summer. She hesitated and then went on. There was a girl in the office for a month, vacation time, filling in, and one day I noticed the buttons on her blouse. I said I had never seen any buttons like them, and she said very few people had. I asked her where I could get some, and she said nowhere. She said her aunt made them out of horsehair, and it took her a day to make one button, so she didn’t make them to sell, just as a hobby.

Were the buttons white?

Yes.

How many were on her blouse?

I don’t remember. I think five.

At the Hirsh Laboratories, deciding it would be better not to display the overalls, I had cut off one of the buttons, one of the three still intact. I took it from a pocket and offered it. Anything like that?

She gave it a good look. Exactly like that, as I remember, but of course it was nearly a year ago. That size too.

I retrieved the button. This sounds as if it may help, Miss Epps. What’s the girl’s name?

She hesitated. I suppose I have to tell you.

You certainly do.

I don’t want to get her into any trouble. Nero Wolfe is a detective and so are you.

I don’t want to get anybody into trouble unless they have asked for it. Anyway, from what you’ve already told me it would be a cinch to find her. What’s her name?

Tenzer. Anne Tenzer.

What’s her aunt’s name?

I don’t know. She didn’t tell me and I didn’t ask.

Have you seen her since last summer?

No.

Do you know if Quinn and Collins got her through an agency?

Yes, they did. The Stopgap Employment Service.

How old is she?

Oh she’s under thirty.

Is she married?

No. As far as I know.

What does she look like?

She’s about my size. She’s a blonde or she was last summer. She thinks she’s very attractive; and I guess she is. I guess you would think so.

I’ll see when I see her. Of course I won’t mention you. I got my wallet out. My instructions from Mr. Wolfe were not to pay you until I have checked your information, but he hadn’t met you and heard you, and I have. I produced two twenties and a ten. Here’s half of it, with the understanding that you will say nothing about this to anyone. You impress me as a woman who can watch her tongue.

I can.

Say nothing to anyone. Right?

I won’t. She put the bills in her bag. When will I get the rest?

Soon. I may see you again, but if that isn’t necessary I’ll mail it. If you’ll give me your home address and phone number?

She did so, West 169th Street, was going to add something, decided not to, and turned to go. I watched her to the entrance. There was no spring to her legs. The relation between a woman’s face and the way she walks would take a chapter in a book I’ll never write.

Since I had a table reserved in the restaurant downstairs, I went down and took it and ordered a bowl of clam chowder, which Fritz never makes, and which was all I wanted after my late breakfast. Having stopped on the way to consult the phone book, I knew the address of the Stopgap Employment Services 493 Lexington Avenue. But the approach had to be considered because (1) agencies are cagey about the addresses of their personnel, and (2) if Anne Tenzer was the mother of the baby she would have to be handled with care. I preferred not to phone Wolfe. The understanding was that when I was out on an errand I would use intelligence guided by experience (as he put it), meaning my intelligence, not his.

The result was that shortly after two o’clock I was seated in the anteroom of the Exclusive Novelty Button Co., waiting for a phone call, or rather, hoping for one. I had made a deal with Mr. Nicholas Losseff, the button fiend, as he had sat at his desk eating salami, black bread, cheese, and pickles. What he got was the button I had removed from the overalls and a firm promise to tell him the source when circumstances permitted. What I got was permission to make a phone call and wait there to get one back, no matter how long it took, and use his office for an interview if I needed to. The phone call had been to the Stopgap Employment Service. Since I had known beforehand that I might have a lot of time to kill, I had stopped on the way to buy four magazines and two paperbacks, one of the latter being His Own Image by Richard Valdon.

I never got to His Own Image, but the magazines got a big play, and I was halfway through the other paperback, a collection of pieces about the Civil War, when the phone call came at a quarter past five. The woman at the desk, who had known what I wanted Wednesday before I told her, vacated her chair for me, but I went and took it on my side, standing.

Goodwin speaking.

This is Anne Tenzer. I got a message to call the Exclusive Novelty Button Company and ask for Mr. Goodwin.

Right. I’m Goodwin. Her voice had plenty of feminine in it, so I put plenty of masculine in mine. I would like very much to see you, to get some information if possible. I think you may know something about a certain kind of button.

Me? I don’t know anything about buttons.

I thought you might, about this particular button. It’s made by hand of white horsehair.

Oh. A pause. Why, how on earth do you mean you’ve got one?

Yes. May I ask, where are you?

I’m in a phone booth at Madison Avenue and Forty-ninth Street.

From her voice, I assumed that my voice was doing all right. Then I can’t expect you to come here to my office, Thirty-ninth Street and crosstown. How about the Churchill lobby? You’re near there. I can make it in twenty minutes. We can have a drink and discuss buttons.

You mean you can discuss buttons.

Okay. I’m pretty good at it. Do you know the Blue Alcove at the Churchill?

Yes.

I’ll be there in twenty minutes, with no hat, a paper bag in my hand, and a white and green orchid in my lapel.

Not an orchid. Men don’t wear orchids.

I do, and I’m a man. Do you mind?

I won’t know till I see you.

That’s the spirit. All right, I’m off.

At a wall table in the Admiralty Bar at the Churchill there isn’t much light, but there had been in the lobby. Beatrice Epps had been correct when she said Anne Tenzer was about her size, but the resemblance stopped there. It was quite conceivable that Miss Tenzer had aroused in some man, possibly Richard Valdon, the kind of reaction that is an important factor in the propagation of the species; in fact, in more men than one. She was still a blonde, but she wasn’t playing it up; she didn’t have to. She sipped a Bloody Mary as if she could take it or leave it.

The button question had been disposed of in ten minutes. I had explained that the Exclusive Novelty Button Co. specialized in rare and unusual buttons, and that someone in one of the places she had worked had told me that she had noticed the buttons on her blouse, had asked her about them, and had been told that they had been made by hand of white horsehair. She said that was right, her aunt had made them for years as a hobby and had given her six of them as a birthday present. She still had them, five of them still on the blouse and the other one put away somewhere. She didn’t remind me that I had told her on the phone that I had one. I asked if she thought her aunt had a supply of them that she might be willing to sell, and she said she didn’t know but she didn’t think she could have very many, because it took a whole day to make one. I asked if she would mind if I went to see her aunt to find out, and she said of course not and gave me the name and address: Miss Ellen Tenzer, Rural Route 2, Mahopac, New York. Also she gave me the phone number.

Having learned where to find the aunt, the source of the buttons, I decided to try a risky short cut with the niece. Of course it was dangerous, but it might simplify matters a lot. I smiled at her, a good masculine smile, and said, I’ve held out on you a little, Miss Tenzer. I have not only heard about the buttons, I have seen some of them, and I have them with me. I put the paper bag on the table and slipped out the overalls. There were four, but I took two off to inspect them. See?

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

Leave a Reply 0

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