“No. There wasn’t the slightest necessity of ‘calming me down,’ as he put it. I merely wanted—”
“Confound it, were you four people together, with Mrs. Demarest, from seven-thirty till after midnight?”
“Yes, we were.”
Wolfe grunted. In a moment he grunted again and turned to me.
“Archie. Miss Nieder’s glass is empty. So is Mr. Demarest’s. See to it, please.”
He leaned back, shut his eyes, and began making little circles on the arm of his chair with the tip of his forefinger. He was flummoxed good, his nose pushed right in level with his face.
I performed as host. Since Demarest’s requirement was another Tom Collins it took a little time, but Polly Zarella took none at all since she had shown herself capable of pouring the Tokay herself. Apparently the statement about Cynthia’s superiority, out loud for people to hear, had made Roper thirsty, for this time he accepted my offer and chose B & B. In between, glances at Wolfe showed that he was working, and working hard, for his lips were pushing out and then pulling in, out and in, out and in....
I finished the replenishing and resumed my seat.
Wolfe half opened his eyes.
“So,” he said conversationally, as if he were merely stating a new paragraph with the continuity intact, “naturally the police are specially interested in Miss Nieder, since she alone, of those who have keys, is vulnerable. By the way, Mr. Daumery, how did it happen that Miss Nieder wasn’t invited to that conference? Isn’t she a half-owner?”
“I represented her interests,” Demarest stated.
“But before long she’ll probably be representing herself. Shouldn’t she be consulted on important matters?”
Bernard spoke. “Damn it, isn’t it obvious? If she had been there we couldn’t have handled Roper at all. He can’t bear the sight of her.”
“I deny—” Roper began, but Wolfe cut him off.
“Even so, isn’t it true that Miss Nieder has been deliberately and consistently ignored in the management of the business?”
“Yes,” Polly said, nodding emphatically.
The three men said no simultaneously, and all were going on to elaborate, but again Wolfe took it away.
“This will finish sooner if you let me dominate it. I am not implying that Miss Nieder is unappreciated. You all admit her designing talent, all but Mr. Roper, and just this afternoon one of you was quick and eager to resent an aspersion on her. I mean, Mr. Daumery, your assaulting Mr. Roper only because he hinted that Miss Nieder might have killed a man. Your business needs him, and surely you were risking losing him. You leaped hot-headed to Miss Nieder’s defense. It isn’t easy to reconcile that with your reluctance to come here this evening at her request.”
“I wasn’t reluctant. I had to think it over, that’s all.”
“You often have to think things over, don’t you?”
Bernard resented it. “What’s it to you if I do?”
“It’s a great deal to me,” Wolfe declared. “I have engaged to prevent Miss Nieder’s arrest for murder, and I suspect that your habit of thinking things over is going to show me how to do it, and I intend to learn if I’m right.”
His gaze shifted. “Mr. Demarest. How long have you known Mr. Daumery?”
“Six years. Ever since he graduated from college and started to work in his uncle’s business.”
“You’ve known him intimately?”
“Yes and no. I was an intimate friend of Paul Nieder, the partner of Bernard’s uncle.”
“Please give me a considered answer to this: has he always had to think things over? Have you noticed any change in him in that respect, at any time?”
Demarest smiled. “I don’t have to consider it. He was always a very decisive young man, even aggressive, until he became the active head of the business after his uncle’s death some six weeks ago. But that was only natural, wasn’t it? A man of his age suddenly taking on so great a responsibility?”
“Perhaps. Miss Zarella, do you agree with what Mr. Demarest has said?”
“Oh, yes!” Polly was emphatic as usual. “Bernard has been so different!”
“And do you, Miss Nieder?”
Cynthia was frowning. “Well, I suppose people might have got that impression—”
“Nonsense,” Wolfe bit her off. “You’re hedging. Mr. Daumery was ardent in resenting a suspicion that you had committed a murder, but you don’t have to reciprocate for him. His alibi is impregnable. Was there a change in Mr. Daumery, as stated, about six weeks ago?”
“Yes, there was, but Mr. Demarest has explained why.”
“He thinks he has. Now we’re getting somewhere.” Wolfe’s eyes darted at Bernard. “Mr. Daumery, I wish to ask you some questions as Miss Nieder’s agent. They may strike you as irrelevant or even impertinent, but if they are not actually offensive will you answer them?”
Bernard had the look of a man who suspects that someone is sneaking up behind him but for reasons of his own doesn’t want to turn and see. “I probably will,” he said. “What are the questions?”
“Thank you,” Wolfe said graciously. “Are your parents alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where are they?”
“In Los Angeles. My father is a professor in the university there.”
“Is either of them conversant with your business affairs?”
“Not especially. In a vague general way.”
“Have you brothers or sisters?”
“Two younger sisters. In college.”
“Have you any other relatives that you see or correspond with frequently?”
Bernard looked at Cynthia. “Do you want me to go on with this autobiography?”
“She has no opinion in the matter,” Wolfe said curtly, “because she doesn’t know what I’m after. You may or may not have guessed. But can you object that my questions are offensive?”
“No, they’re only silly.”
“Then humor me — or humor Miss Nieder through me. Any other relatives that you see or correspond with frequently?”
“None whatever.”
“I’m about through. I won’t name any names, because the only ones I know are already eliminated. For help in making important decisions, manifestly it is not Mr. Demarest you turn to, since he has had to rationalize the change he has noticed in you. Nor Miss Zarella nor Mr. Roper, since their attitude toward Mr. Groodwin’s invitation to come here this evening had no effect on yours. I’ll have to put it in general terms: is there a banker, or lawyer, or friend, or any other person or persons, on whose judgment you frequently rely for guidance in your business? Anyone at all?”
“No special person. I discuss things with people, naturally — including Mr. Demarest—”
“Ha! Not Mr. Demarest. He has noticed a change in you. This is your last chance, Mr. Daumery, to drag somebody in.”
“I don’t have to drag anybody in. I’m of sound mind and body and over twenty-one.”
“I know you are, and of a decisive and aggressive temperament, and that’s why I’m making progress.” Wolfe wiggled a finger at him. “One last question. Yesterday Miss Nieder suggested, frivolously I thought, that you might find counsel in the stars or a crystal ball. Do you?”
Bernard croaked at Cynthia, “Where the hell did you get that idea?”
“I said she was being frivolous,” Wolfe told him. “Do you? Or tea leaves or a fortune-teller?”
“No!”
Wolfe nodded. “That’s all, Mr. Daumery. Thank you again. That satisfies me.”
He took them all in, “You have a right to know, I think, who it was that was killed in the Daumery and Nieder office last evening. It was Mr. Paul Nieder, the former partner in the business.”
XI
Everybody stared at him. If I had had a pin handy I would have tried dropping it.