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which one, because if so they know who killed Tammy Baxter, and I don't think they would dare not to tell Cramer-but it's possible. Their big play isn't for the passers, it's for the plant. Four, one of the four roomers is it, on account of the knife. It came from that kitchen. Raymond Dell, Noel Ferris, Paul Hannah, Martha Kirk. If one or more of them have been crossed off by alibis that would narrow it. Five, if Hattie Annis is your client you probably want to speak to Parker, since you are against leaving a client in the coop. I'll ring him."
"I haven't told you to."
"Do you tell me not to?"
He tightened his lips. He took a deep breath. "Con- found you. Call him."
"Right. But first one more. Six, I see no reason why I shouldn't try the package for prints, since it hasn't occurred to us that the bills may be phony. I'm assum- ing that you don't intend to let loose of your client's property unless a court orders you to."
"Certainly not. But there will be other prints than yours. Hers."
"I've got hers."
"You have."
"Yes, sir. In case."
"So." He got off the stool. "So you make the decisions. Let me know if you wish to confer. Go."
I went. It isn't easy to pass down the aisles of those three rooms without stopping, even in an emergency, but that time I stopped only once, where a group of Miltonia roezlis were sporting more than fifty racemes on four feet of bench. It was the best crop of Miltonias Wolfe (and Theodore) had ever had. The display is always harder to believe when snow is dancing on the sloping glass overhead.
Since it was after office hours I dialed the home number of Nathaniel Parker, the lawyer, got him, put him through to Wolfe, and listened in, as I am supposed to when not told to get off. He was a little doubtful about springing our client before morning, since they had had to smash a door to get to her and she wasn't
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talking, but he said he would get on it immediately and do his best. That done, I went to the safe and got the wrapping paper and bills.
It was a two-hour job, and I took an hour out for dinner, so it was after nine o'clock when I finished. It took so long because (a) wrapping paper is a mean surface to lift prints from, (b) I had to check and double- check every print with Hattie's and mine, and (c) I had to be darned careful to leave the evidence intact if there was any there. During the last hour, after dinner, Wolfe was there at his desk in the only chair he really likes, reading his current book. Now and then he shot me a glance, of course hoping that I would announce that we had him, and his job would be simple. But at a quarter past nine I swiveled and spoke. "No. Positively. Seven good prints, twelve fair ones, and fourteen smudges. The only ones that can be identified are Hattie's and mine. Either he never handled it without gloves or he wiped it."
I'll say this for him, he never asks silly questions like Are you sure, or Have you tried the bills too. He merely growled, "It was too much to expect." He picked up his bookmark, a thin strip of gold that had been given him by a client in spite of the size of his bill, inserted it, and put the book down. "What do you suggest?"
Ignoring the sarcasm, I took the bills and wrapping paper, still handling them with care, and went to the safe and put them in. "Now," I said, returning, "it will take a brain, and you know where one is. I only run errands. I know you never leave the house on business, but if you-"
The doorbell rang. I offered myself three to one that it was Cramer, probably with Leach for company, stepped to the hall, and flipped the switch for the stoop light. It had been a bad bet. I stepped back in and told Wolfe, "All four of them. Dell, Ferris, Hannah, and Martha Kirk."
He glared at me. "You invited them?"
"No, sir. It's a surprise party. People have no consid- eration. They might at least have phoned."
The Homicide Trinity 179
"It's impossible! I'm not ready. I haven't prepared my mind." He ran his fingers through his hair. "It's impossible. Bring them in."
I went to the front and opened the door, and invited them to enter. Martha Kirk, first in, did not curtsy, and Raymond Dell didn't bow. When I turned after shut- ting the door she was sitting on the bench pulling off her galoshes and the men were removing their coats. "Have you written your piece?" Dell demanded.
That had been so long ago, eight whole hours, that for a second I didn't get him. "Oh," I said. "I had forgotten I was doing one. I got interrupted."
"We want to see Nero Wolfe," Martha Kirk said. "And you."
"Then you might as well have us together. This way." I went to the office door and stood aside, and they filed in. Wolfe arose, inclined his head an eighth of an inch as I pronounced each name, and sat. He never shakes hands with strangers. I was going to put Martha Kirk in the red leather chair, but Dell beat us to it, so I moved up a yellow one for her, next to me, and Ferris and Hannah moved their own, beyond her. Wolfe's eyes went from left to right and back again.
"Go ahead, Martha," Paul Hannah said. "This was your idea."
"No," Martha said, "it was Hattie's idea." She was still ornamental, and the dimples were still there, but she didn't look up to making an omelet of larks' eggs. She turned her face to me and then to Wolfe. "It's crazy," she said. "The idea that Hattie- It's just crazy."
"She doesn't mean," Noel Ferris explained, "that Hattie's idea is crazy, she means the idea that Hattie killed Tammy Baxter. Hattie's idea was that we should come and see you."
"According to Martha," Paul Hannah said.
"Idiot children," Raymond Dell rumbled. His hat had pressed his white mane down, but it was starting to unfurl. "Snapping and yapping in the face of tragedy."
"Death isn't tragedy," Ferris said. "Life is tragedy."
"Was it Miss Annis's idea," Wolfe inquired, "that you
180 Rex Stout
should come and expound philosophy to me? Miss Kirk. I gather that she spoke with you?"
Martha nodded. "She spoke to me. She said she had hired you and Mr. Goodwin to make the cops eat dirt, and we must come and tell you everything we had told the cops."
"When did she hire you?" Hannah demanded. His chubby pink cheeks were a little saggy.
Wolfe ignored him and kept his eyes at Martha. "What else did she say?"
"Nothing. She couldn't. I was coming downstairs, and they were carrying her out, and she saw me and said that, and I said we would. Of course I couldn't tell the others then, they were still questioning us, but I did as soon as they left."
"They were carrying her literally? Bodily?"
"Yes. Two men."
"Had they forced the door of her room?"
"Yes."
Wolfe grunted. "Possibly actionable. For the record, Miss Annis is my client, but my job is not as she defined it. I have engaged to investigate the murder that was committed in her house."
"It wasn't committed by her," Martha declared. "But they've arrested her. It's crazy!"
"It was committed by a sex maniac," Paul Hannah said. "Twice last week a man followed her right to the door. When she told me about it I offered to ambush him, but she said no, if he did it again and came close she would handle him. She would, too."