“Sure.” Cramer’s eyes were gleaming. “You can test from hell to breakfast. You’ve got a microscope up there, and you know what I want right now. Is it good enough to act on, or isn’t it?”
“Yes, sir, it is. We made sure before-”
“Whose coat is it?”
“The tag says Alger Kates.”
“Yeah,” I agreed. “That’s Kates’s coat.”
Chapter 22
SINCE THEY WERE A strategy council, naturally they didn’t send for Kates immediately. They had to decide on strategy first-whether to circle him and get him tangled, or slide it into him gently, or just hit him on the head with it. What they really had to decide was who was going to handle it; that would determine the method, and they started to wrangle about it. The point was, as it always is when you’ve got a crusher like that scarf in his pocket, which way of using it was most likely to crumble him and get a confession? They hadn’t been going long when Travis interposed:
“With all this top authority present, and me not in it officially anyhow, I hesitate to make a suggestion.”
“So what is it?” the D.A. asked tartly.
“I would suggest Mr. Wolfe for it. I have seen him operate, and if it means anything I freely admit that he is my superior at it.”
“Suits me,” Cramer said at once.
The other two looked at each other. Neither liked what he was looking at, and neither liked Travis’s suggestion, so simultaneously they said nothing.
“Okay,” Cramer said, “let’s go. Where do you want the coat and scarf, Wolfe, in sight?”
Wolfe half opened his eyes. “What is this gentleman’s name?”
“Oh. Phillips. Mr. Wolfe, Mr. Phillips.”
“How do you do, sir. Give the coat to Mr. Goodwin. Archie, put it behind the cushions on the couch. Give me the scarf, please.”
Phillips had handed me the coat without hesitation, but now he balked. He looked at Cramer. “This is vital evidence. If those particles get brushed off and scattered…”
“I’m not a ninny,” Wolfe snapped.
“Let him have it,” Cramer said.
Phillips hated to do it. He might have been a mother instructed to entrust her newborn infant to a shady character. But he handed it over.
“Thank you, sir. All right, Mr. Cramer, get him in here.”
Cramer went, taking Phillips with him. In a moment he was back, without Phillips and with Alger Kates. We all gazed at Kates as he stepped across and took the chair indicated by Cramer, facing Wolfe, but it didn’t visibly disconcert him. He looked to me as he had up in my room, as if he might bust out crying any minute, but there was no evidence that he had done so. After he had sat down all I had was his profile.
“You and I have hardly spoken, have we, Mr. Kates?” Wolfe asked.
Kates’s tongue came out to wet his lips and went back in again. “Enough to satisfy-” he began, but his thin voice threatened to become only a squeak, and he stopped for a second and then started over. “Enough to satisfy me.”
“But my dear sir.” Wolfe was gently reproachful. “I don’t believe we’ve exchanged a word.”
Kates did not unbend. “Haven’t we?” he asked.
“No, sir. The devil of it is that I can’t honestly say that I don’t sympathize with your attitude. If I were in your position, innocently or not, I would feel the same. I don’t like people piling questions on me, and in fact I don’t tolerate it.” Wolfe let his eyes open another millimeter. “By the way, I am now, momentarily, official. These gentlemen in authority have deputized me to talk with you. As you doubtless know, that doesn’t mean that you must tolerate it. If you tried to leave this house before they let you go, you would be arrested as a material witness and taken somewhere, but you can’t be compelled to take part in a conversation if you are determined not to. What do you say? Shall we talk?”
“I’m listening,” Kates said.
“I know you are. Why?”
“Because, if I don’t, the inference will be made that I’m frightened, and the further inference will be made that I am guilty of something that I am trying to conceal.”
“Good. Then we understand each other.” Wolfe sounded as if he were grateful for a major concession. With casual unhurried movement he brought the scarf out from beneath the rim of the desk, where he had been holding it in his hand, and put it down on the blotter. Then he cocked his head at Kates as if trying to decide where to begin. From where I sat, having Kates’s profile, I couldn’t tell whether he even gave the scarf a glance. Certainly he didn’t turn pale or exhibit any hand-clenching or tremors of the limbs.
“On the two occasions,” Wolfe said, “that Mr. Goodwin went to Fifty-fifth Street to see Miss Gunther, you were there. Were you a close friend of hers?”
“Not a close personal friend, no. In the past six months, since I’ve been doing confidential research directly under Mr. Boone, I’ve seen her frequently in connection with the work.”
“Yet she was staying in your apartment.”
Kates looked at Cramer. “You people have gone over this with me a dozen times.”
Cramer nodded. “That’s the way it goes, son. This’ll make thirteen.”
Kates returned to Wolfe. “The present housing shortage makes it extremely difficult, and often impossible, to get a room in a hotel. Miss Gunther could have used her position and connections to get a room, but that is against BPR policy, and also she didn’t do things like that. A bed in a friend’s apartment was available to me, and my wife was away. I offered the use of my apartment to Miss Gunther coming up on the plane from Washington, and she accepted.”
“Had she ever stayed there before?”
“No.”
“You had seen her frequently for six months. What did you think of her?”
“I thought well of her.”
“Did you admire her?”
“Yes. As a colleague.”
“Did she dress well?”
“I never noticed particularly-no, that isn’t true.” Kates’s voice zoomed for a squeak again and he used the controls. “If you think these questions are important and you want full and truthful answers. Considering Miss Gunther’s striking appearance and her voluptuous figure, I thought she dressed extremely well for one in her position.”
If Phoebe was here, I thought, she’d tell him he talks like an old-fashioned novel.
“Then,” Wolfe said, “you did notice what she wore. In that case, when did you last see her wearing this scarf?” He used a thumb to indicate it.
Kates leaned forward to look at it. “I don’t remember ever seeing her wear that. I never did.” He settled back.
“That’s strange.” Wolfe was frowning. “This is important, Mr. Kates. Are you sure?”
Kates leaned forward again, saying, “Let me see it,” and reached a hand for it.
Wolfe’s hand was there before his, closing on it. “No,” Wolfe said, “this will be an exhibit in a murder trial and therefore should not be handled indiscriminately.” He stretched an arm to give Kates a closer look. Kates peered at it a moment, then leaned back and shook his head.