“Evidence, damn it,” Mandelbaum growled.
“By all means,” Wolfe conceded, “and the sooner the better. You might start by learning if the paperweight fits the dent in the skull; I think you’ll find that it does. Examine the plaid shawl that was used for a shroud; you may find hairs of Lewent’s head. You had already concluded that the murder was not committed in Lewent’s room; I challenge you to explain how the body was transported if not on Mr. Huck’s chair. I confess it is a pity that the day was dying and the light in the hall was dim when Mr. Goodwin stood at the door of Lewent’s room and saw Mr. Huck, in his chair, emerge from the elevator and head for his room. Mr. Goodwin has sharp eyes, and in better light he would probably have noticed that the hump under the shawl was larger than it should have been. Of course his presence forced Mr. Huck to retreat to his own room with his cargo temporarily, but Mr. Goodwin left almost at once — left the house to phone me — and Mr. Huck finished the transport. That must have been the hardest part for him, since the door to Lewent’s room was too narrow for his chair.”
Wolfe tilted his head to Mandelbaum, who was still standing. “But I like this for evidence. To me, in fact, this alone is absolutely conclusive. You have questioned all of us at length, and you know what was said in this room immediately prior to the discovery of the body. You know that in the presence of five witnesses I extorted from Mr. Huck a promise to pay me a large sum of money — for what? For my reciprocal promise that Mr. Lewent would not again pester any of them with accusations! It is inconceivable that Mr. Huck could be such an ass as to agree to any such bargain if he had thought Lewent was still alive. Word of it, from Mr. Thayer if no one else, was sure to reach Lewent, and he, thinking I had betrayed him by taking a bribe from the enemy, would have had his suspicions redoubled instead of stilled.”
Wolfe shook his head. “No. Unquestionably Huck knew then that Lewent was dead; that certainty struck me the moment I saw the corpse. Not only that; by agreeing to my preposterous proposal Huck was confessing to his guilt. He thought I was blackmailing him, and, momentarily at least, he thought he had to submit. I had tackled him before witnesses, and he would have to get me alone to find out how much I knew and how I might be dealt with. But for the terror of his guilt, he would have scorned me as a witling; when I made my proposal and demand, he would have sent for his brother-in-law and denounced me to him. Instead — but you know what he did, and look at him now.”
Most of those present did look at him, but three did not, and it went to show how men’s minds work. The three were Assistant District Attorney Mandelbaum, Deputy Police Commissioner Boyle, and Inspector Cramer. They, three high-ranking officers of the law, were gazing resentfully and indignantly, not at the murderer who had just been exposed, but at the man who had exposed him. Not that you could blame them much. They would have to charge Huck and take him, that was clear, but they were by no means ready for a judge and jury; and Huck had enough dough to hire the ten best lawyers in town.
Cramer rose to his feet, shot a glance to his right to make sure Sergeant Stebbins was standing by, and moved to plant himself in front of Wolfe.
“Yeah, look at him now,” he growled, “and look at you! You and your helpful comments! That bargain you offered him — you say it’s inconceivable that he could have been such an ass as to agree to it if he had thought Lewent was still alive. Okay, but what about you? It’s also inconceivable that you could have been such an ass as to offer it if you had thought Lewent was still alive. God knows I could call you plenty of things, but not an ass. That stunt Goodwin pulled to get you up here — don’t try to tell me he would have pulled it, or that you would have come, if you hadn’t both known Lewent had been murdered! I want a comment on that!”
“Pfui,” Wolfe said mildly. “Don’t you think you have enough on your hands without—”
He stopped to watch a performance, and this time it went to show how women’s minds work. Mrs. O’Shea was on her feet and moving, slowly as if in a trance, toward her employer, with tears streaming from her eyes and down her cheeks and her arms crossed on her chest. She stopped three steps short of him.
“This is from heaven,” she said, in so low a voice that she could barely be heard. “The terror in my heart — oh, God, so long! You lied to me, and somewhere in me I knew it all the time! She did find out about us — she found out and told you so, and you killed her. Thank heaven, oh, thank heaven—”
Inspector Cramer was there and had her elbow. Another woman’s mind was working too. Sylvia Marcy left the couch, walked across through the group to the wheelchair, and placed an object on Theodore Huck’s lap, on top of the maroon quilt. It was after she had moved away and started for the door that I saw what the object was — a wristwatch with a ring of red stones, maybe rubies.
I can’t report on the fate of the other two gifts whose presentation had been precipitated by my presence. Months have passed, and only last week a jury convicted Theodore Huck of first-degree murder, but as far as I know Mrs. O’Shea and Miss Riff still have their watches.