“Except that Michael James already has confessed,” she went on, not sounding the least bit satisfied about it. “Mr. Goodwin, it’s hard to blame him for what he did. I just hope that he doesn’t have to pay for this in any way. Now, that would really be a crime. As far as I’m concerned, Michael James is a real hero. If it were up to me, I’d give him a medal.”
Fourteen
Polly Mars was still on her soapbox trumpeting Michael James as the Great American Avenger when I left her apartment. I did stay around long enough to see her pull herself together, helped by a shot of brandy I poured from an unopened bottle she and Noreen kept in a kitchen cabinet, and I reassured her that her story would go no further than the brownstone unless absolutely necessary. “Do whatever it takes to help Michael,” were her parting words as I left and descended the dark hallways to the street, where light rain was now falling. Miraculously, I landed a cab in less than a half-minute, which meant I got home in plenty of time to clean up, take a twenty-minute catnap, and put on a fresh shirt before sitting down to a dinner of capon Souvaroff.
Fritz’s capon was so good that it almost made me forget we had a nine-o’clock business engagement. It came back to me when Wolfe and I were in the office with coffee, though, and he asked for a fill-in on my visit with Polly. I gave him the usual verbatim of the conversation as he leaned back, eyes closed and fingers interlaced over his middle mound. After I finished he made no comment, but did ring for beer.
It was ten after nine when the front doorbell rang. Peering out through the one-way glass, I saw a frowning Noreen James standing in the rain on the stoop with a dark-haired, square-shouldered, square-jawed young man I took to be her brother. He had what I would label a pleasant, honest face, but at least at that moment it totally lacked animation. “Come in,” I said in my best host’s voice, pulling the door toward me and stepping aside.
“Mr. Goodwin — I mean Archie, I’m sorry we’re late; we had a horrific time getting a cab, what with the rain and all,” Noreen said, shaking her umbrella. “This is my brother, Michael.” She smiled weakly while I hung up his raincoat and offered him a paw, which was returned firmly but without enthusiasm or words. Michael wore gray slacks, a white open-collared sport shirt, and a light blue sport coat, and he looked like he’d rather be just about anyplace but where he was.
“I know I’m not even supposed to be here,” Noreen half-whispered in the front hall, her eyes jumping from Michael to me and back again like she was watching a tennis match. “Where do you want me to go?”
“Come into the office first, then we’ll get you settled in the front room,” I told her with a smile, steering both of them toward a meeting with Wolfe. He gave us a bland expression as we walked in, setting his book down and leaning back. I introduced Michael, directing him to the red leather chair, then escorted Noreen to the front room, where, I told her, Fritz would soon arrive to look after her refreshment needs. I then made with a quick detour to the kitchen to tell Fritz our female guest warranted a visit.
I got back to the office just as Wolfe was starting in. “Mr. James, you’re in a pickle. However—”
“Look,” Michael said, sticking out his dandy chin and running a hand through thick, curly hair, “I’m only here because my sister begged me to come, really begged me. I couldn’t believe it when I heard she had hired you. I mean, for God’s sake, I killed the...” He paused, groping for a noun, then pronounced it with relish.
“So I sit in the company of a murderer,” Wolfe intoned softly, placing an index finger on the side of his nose. “As long as you already are here, however, I would be interested, given my profession, in what impelled you to this action.”
Michael looked puzzled. “Wait a minute — Noreen told me you knew all about everything,” he blurted.
“She discussed various facets of what I choose to term her incident with Mr. Linville,” Wolfe said. “But at the moment I am interested in your own perspective on the events.”
“Huh!” Michael tugged at his belt and arranged his smooth, strong face into a sour smile. “The jerk — Linville, that is — he, well... you know what he did.”
“I know what I have been told he did. How did you learn of this?”
“I hadn’t seen Nor for a few weeks,” Michael muttered belligerently. “Then, when Mother got home from France, we had a get-together to welcome her back, and it was obvious that Nor was... well, she looked like hell. Anyway, Mother didn’t take long — that’s the way she is — to learn exactly what happened. I mean with Linville. That’s when we all found out.” Michael leaned back and turned his palms up, as though that explained everything.
“So you, being the noble sibling, exacted the ultimate vengeance?”
Michael scowled at Wolfe, lowering the brows over his dark eyes. “Listen, nobody messes with my sister without answering to me.”
“Boldly said, sir. Did you inform anyone outside of the family circle of what had happened to your sister?”
“Well, in a way,” he answered tentatively, allowing his eyes to move around the room.
“Oh?”
“The next day, I sort of mentioned something about it to Doug Rojek — he’s a guy I know down on Wall Street, maybe Nor told you about him. They’ve gone out a fair amount the last few months.”
“How did you ‘sort of mention’ something to him?” Wolfe asked.
Michael slouched in the chair. “Well, I had lunch with him in Battery Park — a couple of times a week we get a soda and a hot dog and eat them on a bench. Anyway, I guess it just sort of came out when we talked. I was still really hot about it and... hell, I know I shouldn’t have said anything to him, but I did. For God’s sake, please don’t tell Nor.”
“How did Mr. Rojek react to this revelation?” Wolfe probed, ignoring the entreaty.
“He got, well, real quiet, didn’t say anything for the rest of the lunch. I started to wish I hadn’t opened my big mouth. I guess it really depressed him.”
“Did you share with him any plans you had regarding Mr. Linville?”
“God, no, Doug didn’t have anything to do with what happened,” Michael said tensely. “This was my thing, and why in the hell my mother and father want to spend a fortune on a lawyer for me is more than I can figure. Same with Nor wanting to spend another fortune getting you to try to—”
Wolfe cut him off sharply. “Exactly when did you plot Mr. Linville’s demise?” he snapped.
“I guess from the minute I heard what he did to Nor. Although at first, I didn’t plan to kill him, just rough him up good, mess up that smirky face, you know?”
“When did assault turn to murder in your mind?” Wolfe asked.
He shrugged. “I dunno. I suppose when I followed him and that damn Porsche of his into the garage and spotted the tire iron on the floor.”
“You were stalking him at the time?”
“If you want to call it that. I had gone around to a few bars and places where he hung around.”
“Had you met him before?”
“No — although I’d seen him in Orion three or four times. He was hard to miss. He was always the loudest guy anyplace he went.”
Wolfe paused to sip his beer, then asked Michael if he wanted anything to drink. The answer was a shake of the head.
“Did you know before this week that Mr. Linville had had social engagements with your sister?”
“Dammit, no! If I had, I would have stopped it right then,” he growled, making a fist and shaking it at a nonexistent target.
“Oh?” Wolfe raised his eyebrows. “Is Miss James accustomed to having you dictate to her in that manner?”
Older brother sat upright and gave Wolfe another one of his low-eyebrow looks, then turned toward me. He got only my blandest expression. He swung back toward Wolfe, tight-lipped. “Okay, maybe she would have listened to me, maybe she wouldn’t. But at least I’d have had my say about that... jerk.” I knew he had any one of several stronger words in mind, but he settled for a tame one.