She said, “I don’t care what Uncle Boyd told you about us Frosts. It couldn’t have been anything very terrible, because he wouldn’t tell lies. I don’t care if you’re working with the police, either. There couldn’t be anything more…more distasteful to a Frost than what has happened. Anyway, the police never found out anything at all about Molly Lauck, and you did.” Her tears had dried. She went on, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you…of course I’m sorry. I thought I was keeping a secret for Uncle Boyd, but I’m sorry anyway. I only wish there was anything else I could tell you…but anyway…I can do this.
This is the only time I’ve been truly glad I have lots of money. I’ll pay you anything to find out who killed Uncle Boyd. Anything, and…and you won’t have to sue me for it.”.
I got her glass and went to the cabinet to get her some more brandy. I grinned at the bottle as I poured, reflecting that this case was turning out to be just one damned client after another.
CHAPTER Eleven
Llewellyn was expostulating. “But, Helen, it’s a police job. Not that he could be any more offensive than the police are, but it’s a police job and let them do it. Anyway, Dad and Aunt Gallic will be sore as the devil, you know they will, you know how they went after me when I…Tuesday.” Helen said, “I don’t care if they’re sore. It’s not their money, it’s mine. I’m doing this. Of course I won’t be of age until next month—does that matter, Mr.
Wolfe? Is that all right?” “Quite all right.” “Will you do it?” “Will I accept your commission? In spite of my experience with another Frost as a client, yes.” She turned to her ortho-cousin. “You do as you please, Lew. Go on home and tell them if you want to. But I…I’d like to have you…” He was frowning at her. “Are you set on this?” “Yes. Good and set.” “Okay.” He settled back in his chair. “I stick here. I’m for the Frosts, but you’re the first one on the list. You’re… Oh, nothing.” He flushed a little.
“Go to it.” “Thank you, Lew.” She turned to Wolfe. “I suppose you want me to sign something?” Wolfe shook his head. “That won’t be necessary.” He had leaned back and his eyes were half closed. “My charge will be adequate, but not exorbitant. I shan’t attempt to make you pay for your cousin’s volatility. But one thing must be clearly understood. You are engaging me for this job because of your affection and esteem for Mr. McNair and your desire that his murderer should be discovered and punished. You are at present under the spell of powerful emotions. Are you sure that tomorrow or next week you will still want this thing done? Do you want the murderer caught and tried and convicted and executed if it should happen to be, for instance, your cousin, your uncle, your mother— or Mr. Perren Gebert?” “But that…that’s ridiculous…” “Maybe, but it remains a question to be answered. Do you want to pay me for catching the murderer, no matter who it is?” She gazed at him, and said finally, “Yes. Whoever killed Uncle Boyd— yes, I do.”
“You won’t go back on that?” “Good for you. I believe you. I’ll try the job for you. Now I want to ask you some questions, but it is possible that your reply to the first one will make the others unnecessary. When did you last see Mr. McNair’s red leather box?” “His what?” She frowned. “Red leather box?” “That’s it.” pJever. I never did see it. I didn’t know he had one.” “Indeed. —You, sir, are you answering questions?” Lew Frost said, “I guess I am. Sure. But not about a red leather box. I’ve never seen it.” Wolfe sighed. “Then I’m afraid well have to go on. I may as well tell you, Miss Frost, that Mr. McNair foresaw—at least, feared-what was waiting for him. While you were here yesterday he was at his lawyer’s executing his will. He left his property to his sister Isabel, who lives in Scotland. He named me executor of his estate, and bequeathed me his red leather box and its contents. He called here to ask me to accept the trust and the legacy.” “He named you executor?” Llewellyn was gazing at him incredulously. “Why, he didn’t know you. Day before yesterday he didn’t even want to talk to you…” “Just so. That shows the extent of his desperation. But it is evident that the red box holds the secret of his death. As a matter of fact, Miss Frost, I was glad to see you here today. I hoped for something from you—a description of the box, if nothing more.” She shook her head. “I never saw it. I didn’t know…but I don t understand…if he wanted you to have it, why didn’t he tell you yesterday…” “He intended to. He didn’t get that far. His last words—his last rutile struggle against his fate-were an effort to tell me where the red box is. I should inform you: Inspector Cramer has a copy of the will, and at this moment scores of police are searching for the box, so if you or your cousin can give me any hint there is no time to lose. It is desirable for me to get the box first. Not to protect the murderer, but I have my own way of doing things—and the police have no client but the electric chair.” Llewellyn said, “But you say he left it to you, it’s your property…” “Murder evidence is no one’s property, once the law touches it. No, if Mr.
Cramer finds it, the best we can hope for is the role of privileged spectator.
So turn your minds back, both of you. Look back at the days, weeks, months, years. Resurrect, if you can, some remark of Mr. McNair’s, some forgotten gesture, perhaps of irritation or embarrassment at being interrupted, perhaps the hurried closing of a drawer, or the unintentional disclosure of a hiding-place. A remark by someone else who may have had knowledge of it. Some action of Mr. McNair’s, unique or habitual, at the time unexplained…” Llewellyn was slowly shaking his head. Helen said, “Nothing. I’ll try to think, but I’m sure there’s nothing I can remember like that.” “That’s too bad. Keep trying. Of course the police are ransacking his apartment and his place of business. Had he preempted any other spot of earth or water? A garage, a boat, a place in the country?” Llewellyn was looking at his cousin with inquiring brows. She nodded. “Yes.
Glennanne. A little cottage with a few acres of land up near Brewster.” “Glennanne?” “Yes. His wife’s name was Anne and his daughter’s was Glenna.” “Did he own it?” “Yes. He bought it about six years ago.” “What and where is Brewster?” “It’s a little village about fifty miles north of New York.” “Indeed.” Wolfe sat up. “Archie. Get Saul, Orrie, Johnny and Fred here immediately. If they cannot all be prompt, send the first two to search Glennanne, and let the others join them when they come. The cottage, first, swiftly, and thoroughly, then the grounds. Is there a garden, Miss Frost?
Tools?” She nodded. “He…he grew some flowers.” “Good. They can take the sedan. Get extra things for digging if they need them, and they should have lights to continue after dark. The cottage is most likely—a hole in the wall, a loose floor-board. Get them. Wait. First your notebook; take this and type it on a letterhead: I hereby authorize the bearer, Saul Panzer, to take complete charge of the house and ground of Glennanne, property of Boyden McNair, deceased, and to undertake certain activities there in accordance with my instructions.
“Leave room for my signature above the designation, ‘Executor of the estate of Boyden McNair.’ I have not yet qualified, but we can tie the red tape later.” He nodded me off. “Now, Miss Frost, perhaps you can tell me—” I moved to the phone and started dialing. I got Saul and Orrie right off the bat, and they said they would come pronto. Fred Durkin was out, but his wife said she knew where to get hold of him and would have him call in ten minutes.
Johnny Keems, when he wasn’t on a job for us, had formed the habit of phoning every day at nine to give me his program, and had told me that morning that he was still on a watchdog assignment for Del Pritchard, so I tried that office.
They had Johnny booked for the day, but before I finished typing the authorization for Saul, Fred called, so I had three anyhow.
Saul Panzer arrived first and Wolfe had Fritz show him into the office. He came in with his hat in his hand, shot me a wink, asked Wolfe how he did, got himself an everlasting blueprint of the two Frosts in one quick glance, and pointed his big nose inquiringly at Wolfe.