dogs so that he could have a private interview with the dis-
trict attorney’s coat pocket. So I tolerated it, and got ad-
ditional proof that they had been to police school. They did
everything but rip my seams. When they had finished I re-
turned the various items to their proper places, and sat down.
Barrow stood and gazed down at me. I was surprised he
didn’t go and wash his face, because that nicotine and soap
must have stung. Tough as they come, those weatherbeaten
babies.
“The mistake you made,” I told him, “was coming in there
breathing fire. Nero Wolfe and I are respectable law-abiding
detectives.”
He grunted. “Forget it. I’d give a month’s pay to know
how you did it, and maybe I’ll find out sometime, but not now.
I’m not going to try any hammering. Not at present.” He
glanced to see that the trooper was ready at a desk with
notebook and pencil. “I just want to know a few things. Do
you maintain that you took nothing from Bronson at any
time?”
“I do.”
“Did you suspect him of being implicated in the murder
of Clyde Osgood?”
“You’ve got the wrong party. Mr. Wolfe does all the sus-
pecting for the firm, ask him. I’m the office boy.”
“Do you refuse to answer?”
“No indeed. If you want to know whether I personally
suspected Bronson of murder, the reply is no. No known
motive.”
“Wasn’t there anything in his relations with Clyde that
might have supplied a motive?”
“Search me. You’re wasting time. Day before yesterday
at 2 o’clock the Osgoods and Pratts and Bronson were all com-
plete strangers to Mr. Wolfe and me. Our only interest in any
of them is that Osgood hired us to investigate the murder of
his son. You started investigating simultaneously. If you’re
discouraged with what you’ve collected and want our crop
as a handout, you’ll have to go to Mr. Wolfe. You said
you wanted to question me in connection with the murder
of Howard Bronson.”
‘That’s what I’m doing.”
“Go ahead.”
He kicked a chair around and sat down. “Wolfe inter-
viewed Bronson last night. What was said at that interview?”
“Ask Mr. Wolfe.”
“Do you refuse to answer?”
“I do, you know. I’m a workingman and don’t want to
lose my job.”
“Neither do I. I’m working on a murder, Goodwin.”
“So am I.”
“Were you working on it when you entered the shed this
afternoon where Bronson was killed?”
“No, not at that moment. I was waiting for Lew Bennett
to tear himself away from the judging lot. I happened to
see Nancy Osgood going into the shed and followed her out of
curiosity. I found her in there in the stall talking to Jimmy
Pratt. I knew her old man would be sore if he heard of it,
which would have been too bad under the circumstances, so
I advised them to postpone it and scatter, and they did so,
and I went back to the Methodist tent where my employer
was.”
“How did they and you happen to pick the spot where
Bronson’s body was?”
“I didn’t pick it, I found them there. I don’t know why
they picked it, but it would seem likely that it wasn’t cause and
effect. I imagine they would have chosen some other spot if
they had known what was under the pile of straw.”
“Did you know what was under it?”
“I’ll give you three guesses.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Why were you so eager to get them out of there in a
hurry?”
“I wouldn’t say I was eager. It struck me they were fairly
dumb to feed gossip at this particular time.”
“You wouldn’t say that you were eager to keep it quiet
that they had been there, and you had?”
“Eager? Nope. Put it that I was inclined to feel it was
desirable.”
“Then why did you bribe the shed attendant?”
Of course he had telegraphed it again. But even so it was
an awkward and undesirable question.
I was waiting for that,” I told him. “Now you have got
me where it hurts, because the only explanation I can offer,
which is the true one, is loony. There are times when I feel
kittenish, and that was one. I’ll give it to you verbatim.” I
did so, words and music, repeating the conversation just as it
had occurred, up to the departure of the beneficiary. “There,”
I said, “Robin Hood, his sign. And when a corpse was dis-
covered there, the louse thought I had been bribing him
with a measly tenspot, and so did you. I swear to God I’ll
lay for him tonight and take it away from him.”
Barrow grunted. “You’re good at explanations. The finger-
prints on the wallet. I suppose a man like Bronson would leave
a wallet containing two thousand dollars lying around on a
veranda. Now this. Do you realize how good you are?”
“I told you it was loony. But lacking evidence to the con-
trary, you might assume that I’m sane. Do I look like a goof
who would try to gag a stranger in a case of murder with a
ten dollar note? Should I start serious bribing around here,
the per capita income of this county would shoot up like
a skyrocket. And by the way, does that clodhopper say that
I made any suggestions about silence or even discretion?”
“We’re all clodhoppers around here. You try telling a jury
of clophoppers that you’re in the habit of tossing out ten
dollar bills for the comic effect.”
I snorted. “Unveil it, brother. What jury? My peers sitting
on my life? Honest, are you as batty as that?”
“No.” The Captain squinted at me and rubbed a spot on
the side of his neck. “No, Goodwin, I’m not. I’m not looking
forward to the pleasure of hearing a jury’s opinion of you. Nor
do I bear any grudge because you and your boss started the
stink on the Osgood thing. I don’t care how slick you are
or where you come from or how much you soak Osgood for,
but now that the bag has been opened it is going to be emptied.
Right to the bottom. Do you understand that?”
“Go ahead and jiggle it.”
Tm going to. And nothing’s going to roll out of my
sight while I’m not looking. You say ask Wolfe, and I’m going
to, but right now I’m asking you. Are you going to talk or
not?”
“My God, my throat’s sore now.”
“Yeah. I’ve got the wallet with your prints all over it. I’ve
got the bill you gave the shed attendant. Are you going to
tell me what you got from Bronson and where it is?”
“You’re just encouraging me to lie. Captain.”
“All right, I’ll encourage you some more. This morning a
sheriffs deputy was in the hotel lobby when Bronson entered.
When Bronson went to a phone booth and put in a New York
call, the deputy got himself plugged in on another line. He
heard Bronson tell somebody in New York that a man named
Goodwin had poked him in the jaw and taken the receipt
from him, but that he expected to pull it off anyway. Well?”
“Gee,” I said, “that’s swell. All you have to do is have the
New York cops grab the somebody and run him through the
coffee grinder—”
“Much obliged. What was the receipt for and where is it?”
I shook my head. “The deputy must have heard wrong.
Maybe the name was Doodwin or Goldstein or DiMaggio—”
“I would like to clip you. Jesus, I would enjoy stretching
you out.” Barrow breathed. “Are you going to spill it?”
“Sorry, nothing to spill.”
“On the hotel register you wrote your first name as Archie.
Is that correct?”
“Yep.”
He turned to his colleague. “Bill, youll find Judge Hutehins
waiting upstairs. Run up and swear out a material witness
commitment. Archie Goodwin. Hurry down with it, we’ve
got to shake a leg.”
I raised the brows. The cossack made it snappy. I asked,
“How’s the accommodations?”
“Fair. A little crowded on account of the exposition. Any
time you’re ready to talk turkey—”
“No speak English. This will get you a row of ciphers and
the finger of scorn and a bellyache.”
He merely looked unflinching. We sat. In a few minutes
his pal returned with a document, and I asked to see it and
was obliged. Barrow took it and asked me to come on, and
I went between them down the dark hall, around a comer and
along another hall, and into another office smaller than the
one we had left but not so dingy, with WARDEN on the
door. A sleepy-looking plump guy sat at a desk which had
a vase of flowers on it besides miscellany. He let out a low
growl when he saw us, like a dog being disturbed in the mid-