Prisoner’s Base by Rex Stout

“Any of several. For instance, my discovery of the identity of the murderer.”

Wolfe’s eyes moved deliberately, and other eyes met them. He prolonged it, and no one moved or spoke. “Though I confess,” he said, “that I expect no such happy expedition. Another possible development would be for me to conclude, after inquiry, that none of you five people was involved in the murder. Since Mrs Jaffee’s action is grounded on the possibility that one or more of you was involved, and is intended solely to prevent a culprit from profiting from a crime, such a conclusion would make the action needless. The purpose of this meeting is that inquiry by me.”

“The purpose of this meeting,” Helmar contradicted, “is an explanation by you and Counselor Parker of this whole outrageous proceeding!”

Wolfe’s gaze pinned him. “Do you really mean that?”

“I certainly do!”

“Then get out.” He waved a hand. “Out! I’ve had enough of you!”

They didn’t move, except their heads, to exchange looks.

“Before you go,” Wolfe said, “here’s a piece of information for you. I am told that you are now claiming—specifically you, Mr Helmar—that the document signed by Priscilla Eads, then Priscilla Hagh, giving her husband a half-interest in her property, is spurious. That is why Mr Irby is here, and why his client, Mr Hagh, has come to New York.” He focused on Helmar. “If you accuse me of deception, sir, I accuse you of an impudent lie in an attempt to defraud. In this room Monday evening Miss Eads told Mr Goodwin and me categorically that she had signed that document, and of course you knew—”

“Bravo!” Eric Hagh was out of his chair and moving, pulling an envelope from his pocket. “There is honesty for you, gentlemen!” He waved the envelope. “Here it is! Here it is!”

He may not, judging from his looks, have inherited the South American tendency to exuberance, but he sure had caught it, and there and then someone caught it from him. Andy Fomos bounced up, dashed across, confronted the Softdown team, and boomed, “And before you go you will listen to me! She was going to make my wife a director! And now they are both dead! What can you do, what can you do to make it fair and honest? What you can do is make me a director and pay me what she was going to pay my wife!” He shook a fist, and I got to my feet, but he gave up the fist to point a finger at Viola Duday. “And what were you doing, coming last week to have a secret talk with my wife!” He swung the finger to aim it at Brucker. “And what were you doing, the same thing, coming to talk with her? To ask her to be a director? Huh? Now you can ask me to be a director! There is no—”

“Archie!” Wolfe called sharply. I was already advancing. Others besides Hagh and Fomos were out of their chairs, making a jumble but no tumult.

I got Fomos back to his corner without serious resistance, and, returning, addressed the Softdown group. “Are you folks leaving or not? If you are, this way out. If not, you must be thirsty, and what will it be?”

“Bourbon and water for me,” Viola Duday said promptly.

Wolfe rang for Fritz, and he came in to help, and Eric Hagh offered his services. There was some moving around during the process of serving, and when it was over I noticed that Hagh had homesteaded on the couch with Sarah. Andy Fomos was the only customer for the wine. Wolfe, of course, had beer. I had myself a tall glass of water—not that I don’t like something with more authority in off hours, but that hour was far from off. What I wasn’t getting in my notebook I was filing in my bean for future reference, and with that bunch I had no faculties to spare.

The idea of a Softdown walkout got no further mention. When all had been refreshed, Helmar stuck his jaw out and began, “On the question of the authenticity of that—”

Wolfe cut him off. “No, sir,” he said emphatically. “Your notion of the purpose of this meeting, and Mr Hagh’s notion, and Mr Fomos’s notion, are all different and all wrong. The purpose is an inquiry by me to try to learn whether any or all of you are implicated in the murder of Priscilla Eads. If I decide that you are not, the action by Mrs Jaffee will be forgone. If I decide that you are or probably are, the action will be pursued.”

“This is fantastic,” Helmar declared. “We submit to trial on a charge of murder, before you as judge and jury?”

“No, not as you put it. I may not apply sanctions; I have no electric chair in readiness. But if Mrs Jaffee asks for an injunction, and you dispute it, and the court hears arguments, the degree of probability that one or more of you is implicated in murder will be a major point at issue and will be debated in court. That would be a disagreeable experience for you, and you may be able to prevent it by debating it here, privately, this evening. Do you want to try? If you do, we’d better start. It’s ten o’clock.”

They looked at one another. “What do you mean by inquiry?” Viola Duday demanded. “Do you mean you question us on anything you please, as the police have? Each of us has spent hours, many hours, with the police.”

Wolfe shook his head. “That would take days. I will want to ask some questions—for instance, I shall ask you about the secret talk which Mr Fomos says you had last week with his wife—but not too many. I propose another method. I suggest an exposition from each of you. You have all been questioned exhaustively by the police, and so should have all pertinent facts and considerations freshly and clearly in mind. Put it this way: I say to you, Miss Duday, there is a suspicion current that you had something to do with the murder of Priscilla Eads, and also of Margaret Fomos, and even that you may have actually committed those crimes with your own hands. What have you to say to remove or discredit that suspicion? You may have half an hour. Well?”

“That’s a subtle and dangerous trick, Viola,” Helmar warned her.

“How dangerous to the innocent?” Wolfe demanded.

Miss Duday took a sip of her bourbon and water, which was half gone. When she swallowed, a ripple ran down her scrawny neck. There was no sign of lipstick on her. “I think I’ll take a chance on the danger,” she said in her clear, pleasant voice, “though I doubt if I’ll need half an hour. I don’t suppose you know, Mr Wolfe, that in my case the motive was much less weighty than with the others. It is true that I’ll get a large block of stock, as they will, but they can outvote me and push me out if they feel like it. Whereas if Priscilla had lived I would soon have been the active head of the corporation, in complete control. That seems pertinent?”

Wolfe nodded. “Mr Goodwin told rne of your comment to him, and Mrs Jaffee was told by Miss Eads that she intended to make you president. Did you know that Mrs Fomos was to be a director?”

“Yes. That was because Priscilla wanted all the directors to be women, and we wanted five. She and I and Sarah Jaffee would be three, and a Miss Drescher, a superintendent at the factory, a fourth, and we wanted another, and Margaret had been with Priscilla a long time and was very devoted to her, and we thought it could do no harm and would be a nice gesture.”

“That was the only reason?”

“Yes. I will say that I was not enthusiastic about it. Important matters, trade secrets and plans for future operations, are discussed at directors’ meetings, and if Margaret attended them naturally she would hear everything. Priscilla trusted her completely, and I had no reason to doubt her, but I wanted to know more about her relations with her husband. Women who are reliably discreet in all other respects will blab anything and everything to their husbands. That was why I went to Margaret’s home one evening last week, to meet her husband and talk with both of them and see how they were together. There was nothing secret—”

“No!” Andy was loose again. He came tearing over, declaiming en route. I met him. He decided to come right on through me, and I had either to dive to keep from being trampled or dispose of him, and, choosing the latter, I overestimated his momentum and weight. The result was that my arm twist and hip lift not only repulsed him, they tumbled him and sent him rolling. By the time he got up and started for me I had a chair between us and was displaying the silencer in my hand.

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