Rex Stout – Nero Wolfe – Final Deduction

“Good morning, madam. I was gratified to see your husband, as of course you were. The telephone call you received from White Plains puts a new problem, and I offer a suggestion. I understand that you prefer not to go to White Plains to see if the dead woman is Miss Utley. Is that correct?”

“Yes. Archie Goodwin said he would go.”

Wolfe grunted. “Mr Goodwin will always go. He is-uh-energetic. But there are difficulties. If it is Miss Utley, he will be asked when and where he last saw her, and when he says she came to my office yesterday he will be asked for particulars. If he gives them in full he will have to include the fact that when she left we, he and I, had formed a strong suspicion that she was implicated in the kidnaping of your husband, and then-”

“Dinah? She was implicated? That’s ridiculous! Why did you suspect that?”

“I reserve that. I’ll explain it later-or I won’t. Then they’ll demand full information about the kidnaping, not only from Mr Goodwin and me, but from you and your husband, and they won’t want to wait until Friday for it. That’s the prob-”

“But why did you suspect Dinah?”

“That will have to wait. So I offer a suggestion. You gave me checks for sixty thousand dollars. I told you I would refund a portion of it if your husband came back alive, since it covered the contingency that I might have to meet the commitment I made in that published notice. I would prefer to keep it, but if I do I’ll have to earn it. My suggestion is that I send Mr Goodwin to White Plains to look at the body. If it is Miss Utley, he identifies it, he says that he saw her for the first and last time when she came to my office yesterday in connection with a confidential job you had hired me for, and on instructions from me he refuses to give any further information. Also I engage that neither he nor I will disclose anything whatever regarding your husband’s kidnaping before eleven o’clock Friday morning unless you give your consent. That will expose us to inconvenience and possibly serious embarrassment, and I shall not feel obliged to return any money to you. I will owe you nothing, and you will owe me nothing. That’s my suggestion. I should add, not to coerce you, merely to inform you, that if it isn’t accepted I can no longer withhold my knowledge of a capital crime, kidnaping. I’ll have to inform the proper authority immediately.”

“That’s a threat. That’s blackmail.”

“Pfui. I’ve offered to incur a considerable risk for a moderate fee. I withdraw my suggestion. I’ll send you a check today. That will end-”

“No! Don’t hang up!” Nothing for five seconds. “I want to speak to my husband.”

“Very well.” Wolfe looked around, then at me, and demanded, “Where is he?”

I covered the transmitter. “Skipped. Right after you said we suspected that Dinah was implicated. Gone. I heard the front door close.”

“I didn’t.” He returned to the phone. “Your husband has left, Mrs Vail, presumably to go to you. I didn’t see him go. I’ll send you a check-”

“No!” Another silence, a little longer. “All right, send Archie Goodwin. To White Plains.”

“With the understanding that I proposed?”

“Yes. But I want to know why you thought Dinah was implicated. That’s incredible!”

“To you, no doubt. It was merely a conjecture, possibly ill-grounded. Another time I may explain it, but not now. I must get Mr Goodwin off. Permit me.”

He hung up, and so did I. I got up and crossed to the hall, went to the front door to see that it was closed, opened the door to the front room and looked in, returned to the office, and told Wolfe, “He’s gone. Not that I thought our client’s husband would try any tricks, but he might have got confused and shut the door while he was still inside. Instructions?”

“Not necessary. You heard what I said to Mrs Vail.”

“Yeah, that’s okay, the worst they can do is toss me in the jug, and what the hell, you’re getting paid for it. But are we curious about anything? Do we care what happened to her, and when and where?”

“No. We are not concerned.”

I headed for the hall, but at the door I turned. “You know,” I said, “some day it may cost you something. You know damned well that we may have to be concerned and you may have to work, and it might be helpful for me to collect a few facts while they’re still warm. But will you admit it? No. Why? Because you think I’m so-uh-energetic that I’ll get the facts anyhow and have them available if and when you need them. For once I won’t. If somebody wants to tell me no matter what, I’ll say I’m not concerned.”

I went and got my coat from the rack, no hat, let myself out, descended the seven steps to the sidewalk, walked to Tenth Avenue and around the corner to the garage, and got the 1961 Heron sedan which Wolfe owns and I drive.

CHAPTER 4

At one-fifteen P.M. Clark Hobart, District Attorney of Westchester County, narrowed his eyes at me and said, “You’re dry behind the ears, Goodwin. You know what you’re letting yourself in for.”

We were in his office at the Court House, a big corner room with four windows. He was seated at his desk, every inch an elected servant of the people, with a strong jaw, a keen eye, and big ears that stuck out. My chair was at an end of the desk. In two chairs in front of it were Captain Saunders of the State Police and a man I had had contacts with before, Ben Dykes, head of the county detectives. Dykes had fattened some in the two years since I had last seen him; what had been a crease was now a gully, giving him two chins, and when he sat his belly lapped over his belt. But the word was that he was still a fairly smart cop.

I met Hobart’s eyes, straight but not belligerent. “I’d like to be sure,” I said, “that you’ve got it right. They reported to you before I was brought in. I don’t suppose they twisted it deliberately, I know Ben Dykes wouldn’t, but let’s avoid any misunderstanding. I looked at the corpse and identified it as Dinah Utley. Captain Saunders asked me how well I had known her, and I said I had met her only once, yesterday afternoon, but my identification was positive. Dykes asked where I had met her yesterday afternoon, and I said at Nero Wolfe’s office. He asked what she was there for, and I said Mrs Jimmy Vail had told her to come, at Mr Wolfe’s request, so he could ask her some questions in connection with a confidential matter which Mrs Vail had hired him to investigate. He asked me what the confidential matter was, and I-”

“And you refused to tell him.”

I nodded. “That’s the point. My refusal was qualified. I said I was under instructions from Mr Wolfe. If he would tell me where the body had been found, and how and when and where she had died, with details, I would report to Mr Wolfe, and if a crime had been committed he would decide whether it was reasonable to suppose that the crime was in any way connected with the matter Mrs Vail had consulted him about. I hadn’t quite finished when Captain Saunders broke in and said Dinah Utley had been murdered and I damned well would tell him then and there exactly what she had said to Mr Wolfe and what he had said to her. I said I damned well wouldn’t, and he said he had heard how tough I thought I was and he would take me where we wouldn’t be disturbed and find out. Evidently he’s the salt-of-the-earth type. Ben Dykes, who is just a cop, no hero, insisted on bringing me to you. If what I’m letting myself in for is being turned over to Captain Saunders, that would suit me fine. I have been thinking of going to a psychiatrist to find out how tough I am, and that would save me the trouble.”

“I’ll be glad to do you that favour,” Saunders said. He moved his lips the minimum required to get the words out. Someone had probably told him that that showed you had power in reserve, and he had practiced it before a mirror.

“You’re not being turned over,” Hobart said. “I’m the chief law officer of this county. A crime has been committed. Dinah Utley was murdered. She was with you not many hours before she died, and as far as we know now, you were the last person to see her alive. Captain Saunders was fully justified in asking for the details of that interview. So am I.”

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