"But that's it! They wouldn't be satisfied if we had told the truth!"
"Oh." Wolfe's browsVent up. "You lied to them?"
"Yes. Or if we didn't lie, anyhow we didn't tell them the truth. We didn't tell them that when we first went in together and saw him, there was no gun lying there. There was no gun in sight."
"Indeed. How sure are you?"
"Absolutely positive. I never saw anything clearer than I saw that--that sight--all of it. There was no gun."
Wolfe snapped at Weppler, "You agree, sir?"
"Yes. She's right."
Wolfe sighed. "Well," he conceded, "I can see that you're really in trouble. Spanking wouldn't help."
I shifted in my chair on account of a tingle at the lower part of my spine. Nero Wolfe's old brownstone house on West Thirty-fifth Street was an interesting place to live and work--for Fritz Brenner, the chef and housekeeper, for Theodore Horstmann, who fed and nursed the ten thousand orchids in the plant rooms up on the roof, and for me, Archie Goodwin, whose main
Curtains for Three 9
operations was the big office on the ground faturally I thought my job the most interesting, confidential assistant to a famous private de is constantly getting an earful of all kinds of and problems--everything from a missing to a new blackmail gimmick. Very few clients bored me. But only one kind of case gave me le in the spine: murder. And if this pair of were talking straight, this was it.
II
filled two notebooks when they left, more than hours later.
they had thought it through before they phoned appointment with Wolfe, they wouldn't, have All they wanted, as Wolfe pointed out, was the They wanted him, first, to investigate a four i-old murder without letting on there had been second, to prove that neither of them had killed Mion, which could be done only by finding out had; and third, in case he concluded that one of had done it, to file it away and forget it. Not that put it that way, since their story was that they both absolutely innocent, but that was what it itedto.
fe Wolfe made it good and plain. "If I take the job," he them, "and find evidence to convict someone of no matter who, the use I make of it will be ly in my discretion. I am neither an Astraea nor a but I like my door open. But if you want to drop now, here's your check, and Mr. Goodwin's note will be destroyed. We can forget you have been and shall."
10 Rex Stout
That was one of the moments when they were within an ace of getting up and going, especially Fred Weppler, but they didn't. They looked at each other, and it was all in their eyes. By that time I had about decided I liked them both pretty well and was even beginning to admire them, they were so damn determined to get loose from the trap they were in. When they looked at each other like that their eyes said, "Let's go and be together, my darting love, and forget this--come on, come on." Then they said, "It will be so wonderful!" Then they said, "Yes, oh yes, but-- But we don't want it wonderful for a day or a week; it must be always wonderful--and we know . . ."
It took strong muscles to hold onto it like that, not to mention horse sense, and several times I caught myself feeling sentimental about it. Then of course there was the check for five grand on Wolfe's desk.
The notebooks were full of assorted matters. There Were a thousand details which might or might not turn out to be pertinent, such as the mutual dislike between **e&gy Mion and Rupert Grove, her husband's manager, or the occasion of Gifford James socking Alberto Mion in front of witnesses, or the attitudes of various persons toward Mion's demand for damages; but you couldn't use it all, and Wolfe himself never needed more than a fraction of it, so I'll pick and choose. Of course the gun was Exhibit A. It was a new one, having been bought by Mion the day after Gifford James had plugged him and hurt his larynx--not, he had announced, for vengeance on James but for future protection. He had carried it in a pocket whenever he went out, and at home had kept it in the studio, lying on the base of a bust of Caruso. So far as known, it had never fired but one bullet, the one that killed Mion.
When Dr. Lloyd had arrived and Weppler had
Curtains for Three 11
en him to the studio the gun was lying on the floor ; far from Mion's knee. Dr. Lloyd's hand had started it but had been withdrawn without touching it, so it I been there when the law came. Peggy was positive ; had not been there when she and Fred had entered, he agreed. The cops had made no announcement it fingerprints, which wasn't surprising since none hardly ever found on a gun that are any good, jhout the two hours and a half, Wolfe kept dart; back to the gun, but it simply didn't have wings. The picture of the day and the day's people was all in. The morning seemed irrelevant, so it started lunch time with five of them there: Mion, Peggy, I, one Adele Bosley, and Dr. Lloyd. It was more sional than social. Fred had been invited because on wanted to sell him the idea of writing a piece for Gazette saying that the rumors that Mion would ?er be able to sing again were malicious hooey, ele Bosley, who was in charge of public relations for i Metropolitan Opera, had come to help work on Dr. Lloyd had been asked so he could assure ppler that the operation he had performed on I's larynx had been successful and it was a good ; that by the time the opera season opened in No mber the great tenor would be as good as ever, ng special had happened except that Fred had to do the piece. Adele Bosley and Lloyd had , and Mion had gone up to the soundproofed studio, id Fred and Peggy had looked at each other and slid discovered the most important fact of life since 'Garden of Eden.
I An hour or so later there had been another gather, this time up in the studio, around half-past three, ; neither Fred nor Peggy had been present By then 1 had walked himself calm and phoned Peggy, and
12 Sex Stout
she had gone to meet him in the park, so their informa! tion on the meeting in the studio was hearsay. Besides Mion and Dr. Lloyd there had been four people: Adele Bosley for operatic public relations; Mr. Rupert Grove, Mion's manager; Mr. Gifford James, the baritone who had socked Mion in the neck six weeks previously; and Judge Henry Arnold, James' lawyer. This affair had been even less social than the lunch, having been arranged to discuss a formal request that Mion had made of Gifford James for the payment of a quarter of a million bucks for the damage to Mion's larynx.
Fred's and Peggy's hearsay had it that the conference had been fairly hot at points, with the temperature boosted right at the beginning by Mion's getting the gun from Caruso's bust and placing it on a table at his elbow. On the details of its course they were pretty sketchy, since they hadn't been there, but anyhow the gun hadn't been fired. Also there was plenty of evidence that Mion was alive and well--except for his larynx--when the party broke up. He had made two phone calls after the conference had ended, one to his barber and one to a wealthy female opera patron; his manager, Rupert Grove, had phoned him a little later; and around five-thirty he had phoned downstairs to the maid to bring him a bottle of vermouth and some ice, which she had done. She had taken the tray into the studio, and he had been upright and intact.
I was careful to get all the names spelled right in my notebook, since it seemed likely the job would be to get one of them tagged for murder, and I was especially careful with the last one that got in: Clara James, Gifford's daughter. There were three spotlights on her. First, the reason for James' assault on Mion had been his knowledge or suspicion--Fred and Peggy weren't sure which--that Mion had stepped over the line with
Curtains for Three 13
ties' daughter. Second, her name had ended the list, t>t by Fred from the doorman and elevator man, of ople who had called that afternoon. They said she come about a quarter past six and had got off at be floor the studio was on, the thirteenth, and had oned the elevator to the twelfth floor a little er, maybe ten minutes, and had left. The third spot jht was directed by Peggy, who had stayed in the rk a while after Fred had marched off, and had then eturned home, arriving around five o'clock. She had gone up to the studio and had net seen her hus nd. Sometime after six, she thought around half she had answered the doorbell herself because s maid had been in the kitchen with the cook. It was . James. She was pale and tense, but she was al ays pale and tense. She had asked for Alberto, and ?eggy had said she thought he was up in the studio, ad Clara had said no, he wasn't there, and never nd. When Clara went for the elevator button, Peggy shut the door, not wanting company anyway, and ticularly not Clara James.