Some Buried Caesar by Rex Stout

pushed, and his clever gray eyes looked smaller.

Finally he said in a cultivated tone, “I understood you

wanted to ask me something.”

Wolfe nodded. “Yes, sir. Were you able to overhear much

of my conversation with Miss Osgood this afternoon?”

“Not a great deal. In fact, very little.” Bronson smiled.

“What was that for, to see if I would make an effort at in-

dignation? Let me suggest … we won’t really need finesse.

I know a little something about you, I’m aware of your re-

sources, but I have a few myself. Why don’t we just agree

that you’re not a fool and neither am I?”

“Indeed.” Wolfe’s lids had lifted so that his eyes were more

than slits. “Are you really a coolheaded man? There are so

few.”

“I’m fairly intelligent.”

“Then thank heaven we can discuss facts calmly, without

a lot of useless pother … facts which I have got from Miss

Osgood. For instance, that you are what Mr. Osgood—and

many other people—would call an unscrupulous blackguard.”

“I don’t …” Bronson flipped a hand. “Oh, well. Calling

names…”

“Just so. I can excoriate stupidity, and often do, because it

riles me, but moral indignation is a dangerous indulgence.

Ethology is a chaos. Financial banditry, for example … I

either condemn it or I don’t; and if I do, without prejudice,

where will I find jailers? No. My only excuse for labeling you

an unscrupulous blackguard is the dictionary, and I do it to

clarify our positions. I’m in the detective business, and you’re

in the blackguard business … and I want to consult with you

about both. I am counting on you to help me in my investiga-

tion of a murder, and I also have a suggestion to make regard-

ing one of your projects—the one that brought you here.

Regarding the murder—”

“Perhaps we’d better take the last one first and get it out

of the way. I’m always open to a reasonable suggestion.”

“As you please, sir.” Wolfe’s lips pushed out, and in again.

“You have a paper signed by Clyde Osgood. You showed it to

Miss Osgood this morning.”

“A receipt for money I paid him.”

“Specifying the services he was to perform in return.”

“Yes.”

“The performance of which would render him likewise a

blackguard … in the estimation of his father.”

“That’s right.”

Wolfe stirred. “I want that paper. Now wait. I offer no

challenge to your right to expect your money back. I concede

that right. But I don’t like your methods of collection. You

may have a right to them too, but I do not like them. Miss

Osgood aroused my admiration this afternoon, which is rare

for a woman, and I want to relieve the pressure on her. I

propose that you hand the paper to Mr. Goodwin; it will be

safe in his custody. Within 10 days at the outside I shall either

pay you the $10,000, or have it paid, or return the paper to

you. I make that pledge without reservation.” Wolfe aimed a

thumb at me. “Give it to him.”

The blackguard shook his head, slowly and positively. “I

said a reasonable suggestion.”

“You won’t do it?”

“No.”

“The security is superlative. I rarely offer pledges, because

I would redeem one, tritely, with my life.”

“I couldn’t use your life. The security you offer may be

good, but the paper signed by Osgood is better, and it be-

longs to me. Why the deuce should I give it up?”

I looked at Wolfe inquiringly. “I’d be glad to under-

take-”

“No, thanks, Archie. We’ll pass it, at least for the present.

—I hope, Mr. Bronson, that your antagonism will find—”

“I’m not antagonistic,” Bronson interrupted. “Don’t get me

wrong. I said I’m not a fool, and I would be a fool to an-

tagonize you. I know very well I’m vulnerable, and I know

what you can do. If I make an enemy of you I might as well

leave New York. I’ve only been there two months, but if you

wanted to take the trouble to trace me back I don’t deny you

could do it. You wouldn’t find that a cell is waiting for me

anywhere, but you could collect enough to make it damned

hard going … too hard. I’ve had a bad break on this Clyde

Osgood thing, but I can try again and expect better luck,

and God knows I don’t want you hounding me, and you

wouldn’t go to the expense and trouble just for the fun of it.

Believe me, I’m not antagonistic. You have no right to get

sore about my not surrendering that paper, because it’s mine,

but otherwise I’m for you. If I can help any I will.”

“No finesse, Mr. Bronson?”

“None.”

“Good. Then tell me first, where were you bom?”

Bronson shook his head. “I said help you, not satisfy your

curiosity.”

“You’ve admitted I can trace you back if I care to take

the trouble,”

“Then take the trouble.”

“Very well, I’ll be more direct. Have you ever handled

cattle?”

Bronson stared, then let out a short laugh and said, “My

God, must I take it back about your not being a fool? Do

you mean to say you’re trying to fit me in that thing?”

“Have you ever handled cattle?”

“I’ve never had the slightest association with cattle. I know

where milk and beef come from only because I read it some-

where.”

“Where is the club you were carrying last night when you

accompanied Clyde Osgood to Pratt’s place?”

“Club?”

“Yes. A rough club, a length of sapling.”

“Why … I don’t think … Oh yes. Sure, I remember. It

was leaning up against a shed as we went by, and I just—”

“Where is it?”

“You mean now? After all—”

“Where did you leave it?”

“Why … I don’t… Oh! Sure. When we got to the fence,

where the trees ended, Clyde went on and I came back. He

took the club with him.”

“What for?”

Bronson shrugged. He had himself collected again. “Just

to have it, I suppose. I notice you carry a heavy walking stick.

What for?”

“Not to knock myself unconscious with. Did Clyde ask for

the club? Did you offer it to him?”

“I don’t know. It was quite casual, one way or the other,

Why, was he knocked on the head? I thought he was killed

with a pick, according to your—”

“You’re supposed to be helping, sir, not chattering. I need

the truth about that club.”

“You’ve had it.”

“Nonsense. You were obviously disconcerted, and you

stalled.” Wolfe wiggled a finger at him. “If you don’t want my

antagonism, beware. This is the most favorable chance you’ll

have to tell the truth, here privately with me in comparative

amity. Isn’t it a fact that you yourself carried the club to Mr.

Pratt’s place?”

“No. I didn’t go there.”

“You stick to that?”

“It’s the truth.”

“I warn you again, beware. But say we take that, for the

moment, for truth, tell me this: why was Clyde going to

Pratt’s? What was he going to do there?”

“I don’t know.”

“What did he say he was going to do?”

“He didn’t say.”

Wolfe shut his eyes and was silent. I saw the tip of his

index finger making little circles on the arm of his chair,

and knew he was speechless with fury. After a minute Bron-

son began:

“I may as well—”

“Shut up!” Wolfe’s lids quivered as he opened his eyes.

“You’re making a mistake. A bad one. Listen to this. You

were demanding immediate repayment of your money. Clyde,

unable to raise the sum in New York, came here to appeal to

his father, and you were in such a hurry, or mistrusted him so

greatly, or both, that you came along. You wouldn’t let him

out of your sight. His father refused his appeal, since Clyde

wouldn’t tell him what the money was needed for—to save

the Osgood honor would be correct phrasing—and you were

ready to disclose the facts to the father and collect your debt

direct from him. Then Clyde, in desperation, made a bet. He

couldn’t possibly win the bet and pay you for 6 days, until the

week expired, and what acceptable assurance could he give

you that he would win it at all? Only one assurance could

have induced you to wait: a satisfactory explanation of the

method by which he expected to win. So he gave it to you.

Don’t try to tell me he didn’t; I’m not a gull. He told you

how he expected to win, and the steps he proposed to take.

Very well, you tell me.”

Bronson shook his head. “All I can say is, you’re wrong.

He didn’t tell-”

“Pfui. I’m right. I know when I’m right. Beware, sir.”

Bronson shrugged. “It won’t get you anywhere to keep

telling me to beware. I can’t tell you what I don’t know.”

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