Two of them, Perdis and Mrs. Oliver, started to speak, but I shut them off and moved away from the bed. Anne Talbot went to the bed and got her coat, and Khoury went and held it for her, and then got his own. Anne Talbot said to Perdis and Mrs. Oliver, "Is there any alternative?" Perdis went and got Mrs. Oliver's
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coat and took it to her, and she went to the bed for her bag.
Perdis was the last one out. When he had started down the stairs I shut the door, put a chair against it, went to the chest of drawers, a big heavy piece at the left wall, and took out the bottom drawer. There was a folded blanket in it. I squatted at the opening. The board that the drawer slid on, solid, not a plywood panel, was flush and snugly fitted, no play to it. I tried to get its edge with my thumbnails; nothing doing. I got out my pocketknife, stuck the point of the blade in the crack at the center, just barely in, pried gently, and up it came. The front edge of the board was beveled. Very neat. I put my hand in, felt metal, got a finger under, and here came the box. It was steel, anything but flimsy, twelve inches by six and about two inches deep, and weighed a good four pounds, with a lock not to be opened with a nail file. I shook it and heard no move- ment, which didn't prove anything. With the board down, I replaced the drawer, moved the chair away from the door and opened it, and went to the head of the stairs. No sound of voices from below. If I had gone down and joined them in the hall carrying a steel box which I must have found in Hazen's room they would have made quite a party of it. I descended a flight, stood to listen half a minute, and went on down. They had turned on the light in the lower hall. My hat and coat were there on the floor. I put the Marley in the holster, put on the hat and coat, slipped the box under the coat, with my hand in my pocket holding it, turned out the light, and opened the door.
They had followed instructions to a T. Two taxis were there, and they were in the one in the rear, all four of them. After glancing in I told the driver to follow my taxi, went and got in and gave the driver the address, and we rolled.
Chapter 6
When you mount the seven steps to the stoop and enter the hall of the old brownstone on West 35th Street, the first door on your left is to what we call the front room, with the office door farther along on that side. The walls and doors of the front room and office are soundproofed. After convoy- ing the company to the front room and telling them they wouldn't have to wait long, I returned to the hall, put my hat and coat on the rack, proceeded to the office, and put the box on Wolfe's desk pad.
"Good timing," I said. "In another hour or two they would probably have found it."
He reached to pass his fingertips along its edge. "You
haven't opened it."
"No. It's a good lock. They're in the front room, all four. I gave them their pick, you or the cops, and they preferred you. There's nothing to add to what I told you on the phone. Before I open it I want to register a guess. Not that it's what Hazen had on them, that's a cinch. My guess is specifically what he had on Mrs. Oliver. She murdered her husband. Wait till you see her."
He made a face. "This will be distasteful. Bring
keys."
I went to the cabinet at the far wall, opened a drawer, and made selections. Although I couldn't qualify on the witness stand as a lock expert, I know a Hotchkiss from a Euler, and I can open your suitcase with a paper clip if you'll be patient. Moving the box to my desk, I sat and started in. I had selected four types, little boxes of assortments. In three minutes I eliminated the first type, and in another three the second one. The third
The Homicide Trinity 109
seemed more promising, and I was getting hot when Wolfe growled, "Get a hammer and screwdriver."
As he spoke it clicked and I had it. I raised the lid. The box was empty. I upended it for Wolfe to see. "Yeah," I said. "It sure is distasteful."
He took in air, about a bushel, and let it out again. "It's just as well. It would probably have presented us with a problem. More than one. I presume he decided it was a mistake to tell his wife of it and removed the contents. Elsewhere in the house?"
"I doubt it."
"So do I." He leaned back, closed his eyes, and pushed his lips out. In a moment he pulled them in, and then out and in, out and in. He was working. A minute passed, two minutes, three… He opened his eyes and straightened up. "Lock the box and leave it on your desk. Put the keys away. Have a gun in your hand when you admit them, and go to your desk and stay there. Proceed."
I proceeded. After locking the box and returning the keys to the cabinet, I moved four of the yellow chairs up, in a row facing Wolfe's desk, got the gun out, opened the door to the front room, and invited them to enter. The gentlemen followed the ladies. I went to my desk and pronounced names, and when they were seated I sat, with the gun in my hand resting on my thigh.
Wolfe's eyes went right and then left. "This shouldn't take long," he said. "First the situation. I shall not resort to euphemism. You were being blackmailed by Mr. Hazen, either collectively-please don't interrupt. Either collectively or separately. He had other victims, but you four alone were paying him around a hundred and fifty thousand dollars a year, ostensibly for profes- sional services, but that was merely a subterfuge. I don't know whether the police know that or not, prob- ably not, but I do. If there was any doubt it was re- moved when Mr. Goodwin found you in that house surreptitiously, looking for something, and you offered him a large sum of money. So much-"
"I didn't," Mrs. Oliver blurted. "Mr. Perdis did."
110 Rex Stout
"Pfui. You were there. Did you object? So much for that. I am acting for my client, Mrs. Hazen. She is being held under suspicion of killing her husband, and has given me certain information. This is one item: one day about a year ago her husband showed her a box, a metal box, he had in his bedroom. To show it to her he re- moved the bottom drawer of a chest and pried up the board the drawer slid on, and the box was underneath the board. He told her that if he died she should get the box, have it opened by a locksmith, and burn the con- tents without looking at them. It was to get that box that Mr. Goodwin went there this evening, with Mrs. Hazen's key and authority. After you left the room he removed the drawer and lifted the board, and got it. It's there on his desk."
That was like him. I hadn't told him that I had sent them from the room before I got it, and that they hadn't seen it; he took it for granted. I appreciate his compli- ments, but some day he may overestimate me. I had no idea where or what he was headed for, but I thought a little gesture wouldn't hurt, so I got the box with my left hand, the gun being in my right, and displayed it. Four pairs of eyes were on it, glued to it. Anne Talbot mumbled something. Perdis started up, thought better of it, and sank back. Jules Khoury muttered, "So it was there." I had the gun, but there were four of them, so I got up, detoured around them to the safe, opened the safe door, put the box in, closed the door, and spun the knob. As I returned to my chair Wolfe was speaking.
"I have a proposal to make, but first a question or two. My objective, of course, is to demonstrate that Mrs. Hazen did not kill her husband. Yesterday evening you dined at her table. After dinner she went to her room, and soon after that Mr. Weed left. I'm not going to ask about the sequence and the times of your departures, or where you went and what you did; the police have got all that from you, and if the matter can be resolved by such details they are extremely compe- tent at that sort of thing, and they are ahead of me, with an army. But I want to know about your conversation