“We tend to think it unique that we have what essentially is an escape hatch,” Wolfe said, referring to the back way out of the brownstone, “although I suspect there are far more such exits in Manhattan than we realize, despite this island being devoid of alleys.”
“I’ll be more interested in what Panzer learns when he delves more deeply into the details of that place in the Village.”
“Knowing Saul’s tenacity and thoroughness, I am confident we will learn more in an expedient manner,” Wolfe said.
I suppose 10:00 a.m. the next morning qualifies as expedient, because that was when we got another call from Saul.
“First, the house is a single-owner place, so there aren’t any nameplates at the front entrance. Second, I got no answer when I rang the bell on several occasions last night and today. Third, I’ve got a friend at City Hall who I once did a favor for.”
“Whoa, that is what Wolfe would call a non sequitur,” I said. “Your third item has nothing to do with the first two.”
“Okay, smart guy, so I may not have expressed myself well enough to suit someone who is getting much-needed lessons in English usage from Nero Wolfe. Through this individual I know at the hall, I was able to learn who owns the building. Her name is Elaine Musgrove, and I looked up her home address, which is — no surprise — that very building.”
“And from what you have said, nobody’s home.”
“That appears to be the case,” Saul said. “Shades, blinds, and curtains are all closed; the place looks like it’s shuttered.”
“Yet we know damn well that Hirsch and his lackey were just there and stayed for a few minutes.”
“Which of course means we’ll be keeping a watch on it — around the clock.”
“You took the words right out of my mouth. We will remain in touch.”
When Wolfe came down from the plant rooms at eleven and got himself settled with his beers and a book, I reported.
“Call Miss Rowan; I wish to speak to her,” he ordered and opened the book to where he had bookmarked it.
“Good morning, lady of leisure,” I said when she answered.
“Leisure, my foot,” she shot back. “For the last two hours, I have been planning a May picnic with games and pony rides for a bunch of orphans up at my place in Katonah.”
“I stand corrected and chagrined, well aware of the many good works you are involved with. Mr. Wolfe would like to take a few minutes of your valuable time.” I stayed on the line as Wolfe picked up.
“Good morning, Miss Rowan. I am sorry to disturb you, but I have a question.”
“Which I will try to answer.”
“Good. Does the name Elaine Musgrove mean anything to you?”
There was a pause at the other end. “She... sounds familiar,” Lily finally said. “A friend of Maureen’s, maybe from college. Yes, that’s it; I’m sure they were classmates.”
“Indeed? Where did they attend university?”
“Radcliffe, which is part of Harvard. Now it’s coming back to me. I have heard Maureen speak fondly of Elaine more than once, although I’ve never met her. The two of them are part of a group that has stayed very close since their university years. I always wished I’d had a similar bunch when I was at Barnard, but such was not the case. Do you think Elaine may know where Maureen is?”
“It is possible,” Wolfe said.
“It also is possible that Eric Mason may know more about Elaine than I do. I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful.”
“You have been of more help than you realize, Miss Rowan,” Wolfe said, hanging up as I stayed on the line. “It was a good suggestion of yours to call Mason,” I told Lily.
“It’s all I could think of right now. Please keep me apprised.”
“Absolutely. After all, you are a client.”
“Call Mr. Mason,” Wolfe ordered after we signed off.
The advertising man picked up on the second ring, and when I identified myself, he muttered, “I wondered if I was ever going to hear from you and Wolfe again.”
“We have been working. It’s just that we haven’t had anything significant to report. I’ve got a question: Do you know Elaine Musgrove?”
“Well, sort of. I have met her a couple of times, an old college chum of Maureen’s. Seems like a nice gal. I think she has got a place down in the Village, although I have never been there.”
“Does she go away in the winter months?”
“Yeah, to the French Riviera.”
“Do you happen to know where she stays?”
“Oddly enough I do, because Maureen was there once years ago, and she mentioned what a great setup it was. Every winter Elaine spends at least a couple of months, maybe more, at a luxury villa on the grounds of a hotel in Cap d’Antibes.”
“Do you know the name of the hotel?”
“Say, what’s this all about?”
“We’re not sure, but we think Elaine Musgrove might be able to help us locate Maureen, although I must tell you that it could be a long shot.”
“At this point, I’ll take that long shot,” Mason said.
“It may mean sending one of our men to the Riviera.”
“Fine by me. Just add whatever it costs to my bill, as long as your guy doesn’t linger down there too long.”
“He won’t, he’s all business. What’s the name of the place where Elaine Musgrove is staying?”
“Oh yeah, it’s the Hôtel de la Mer.”
I thanked Mason, hung up, and swiveled to Wolfe for instructions.
Chapter 18
When I had told Mason that the individual we’d send to the Riviera would be all business, I knew Wolfe was going to suggest Saul Panzer, and I was right. We both knew Saul never wasted time on a job, although he might appreciate the surroundings. We also realized that if we were to send Orrie Cather, there was the risk that he would find all manner of diversions on the beaches of the Mediterranean and would take his time returning to New York. I told our other client, Lily Rowan, that Saul was headed to France, and she approved.
Within hours and armed with instructions, Saul had booked himself on one of the newly launched overnight flights to Paris with a connecting plane to Nice. He seemed to approve of the assignment, but then, who wouldn’t? A couple of days away from New York’s early spring weather was always welcome.
But before leaving for Europe, Saul told Orrie he was in charge of keeping watch on the Greenwich Village building around the clock, which meant hiring one of Bascom’s men to join Fred and Orrie on the twenty-four-hour surveillance.
“Think it’s worth paying to have that place watched all the time?” I asked Wolfe. “There doesn’t seem to be much going on inside.”
“Normally, I would agree, although something in that building must have interested Mr. Hirsch and his dogsbody.”
“I suppose. Maybe I’m worrying too much about expenses, but if Mason is willing to pony up to send Saul to France, what’s a few bucks on a vigil?”
Just then, the phone squawked, and I started to answer with my usual “Nero Wolfe’s office, Arch—” when I got a “Yeah, yeah, I know the spiel” from Lon Cohen at the Gazette.
“Something just came over the police wire that should interest you,” he said. “A man identified as Everett Carr was found shot dead in a passageway between two buildings in Greenwich Village. If I remember right, and I usually do, you asked for the clips on that very same name sometime back.”
I motioned and Wolfe picked up his receiver. “Any other details?” I asked.
“Carr had been hit, by somebody who pulled the trigger several times, because there were some shell casings on the ground from shots that missed him. He was identified by his wallet. That’s all we have so far.”
“Give me the address.” Lon fed it to me and I thanked him, hanging up and turning to Wolfe. “I’m off,” I said and received the slightest of nods in return.