"Your opinion of him seems to be going up." "My opinion of him is unimportant. But another thing, if he intended to play as dirty a trick as that, he could simply have not produced it. He could have destroyed it." "He had no such intention. The hypothesis is that Wolfe gets the idea and sells it to them. Didn't I say it was hypothetical?" "Yes. You said so." Her eyes got narrower. "Is WHERE THERE'S A WILL 51 it? Or is this what Nero "Wolfe has got ready for me?" I lifted the shoulders. "You'll have to ask him, Miss Karn. All I know is this, he wants you to come and discuss it with him. He has engaged to try to persuade you to agree to some sort of a settlement. I've never known anybody to make bingo by refusing to talk with Wolfe when he wants to talk." She looked through me for another ten seconds, and then abruptly got up without bothering to excuse herself, and left the room. I arose too and strolled over to the archway and stood there with an ear cocked, thinking I might hear some telephoning or something, but the apartment was too big or too soundproofed, and I drew a blank. Fifteen minutes passed, and I had about decided on a tour of exploration, when the sound of footsteps came, and I got back to the middle of the room by the time she entered. She had changed to a blue linen thing, with a flowing wrap of the same, and had on a kind of a hat. She announced, merely imparting information: "I'm not going because I'm scared. Not that that matters to you. Your job was to get me there. Come on." There was no question but that she got the gist of things with a minimum of effort and time. FR1;52 WHERE THERE'S A WILL Down on the sidewalk I discovered that she was nice to walk with. At that juncture of affairs she had about as much use for me as a robin has for a black snake, but since we were walking together she let it be a partnership instead of a game of tag. Most girls, walking along a busy sidewalk with you, are either clingers, divers, or laggers, and I don't know which is worst. There was no conversation, even after we got to the roadster and climbed in and nosed it into the traffic. That suited me. The gambit I had used to pry her loose had been impromptu. It wasn't going to get me any medal from the boss, and I had to figure out a way of conveying to him its purely hypothetical nature in a diplomatic manner. Not that he would object to being portrayed as ruthless, unscrupulous and cunning, but he certainly wouldn't be enthusiastic about my giving her the impression that he was a boob. The thing to do was to deposit her in the front room and have a few words alone with him before introducing her. It would have been better to have the few words up in the plant rooms, but that was out because it was 6:15' when we arrived and he would already be back down in the office, waiting for us. My scheme didn't pan out. Three cars parked at the curb warned me to expect competition. I opened the door with my key and ushered her into FR1;WHERE THERE^S A WILL 53 the hall, and there was Fritz Brenner approaching to head us off. "Company?" I asked him. He nodded. "The ladies and gentlemen who were here this afternoon. They have returned. They arrived at three minutes to six." "You don't say." I addressed Miss Karn: "This is unexpected and unfortunate. I guess you'll have to wait a few minutes." I moved toward the door to the front room. "In here it won't be as cool as up at your place--" She was moving too, and so swiftly that I couldn't head her off. I suppose I should have been on my guard, but how could I have known she would make a beeline for the office door, spotting it by instinct, and bust on through? I bounced after her, but by the time I reached the threshold she was already inside and in the middle of them. I put on the brakes and let it come. They were all there, the whole gang except the widow with the veil. The Hawthorne girls were merely regarding the intruder with surprise, but there was a little squeal from Sara Dunn and a pair of startled exclamations from Osric Stauffer and Glenn Prescott. The intruder, paying no attention to any of that, advanced clear to the desk, faced Wolfe, and said calmly: FR1;54 WHERE THERE'S A WILL "You're Nero Wolfe? I'm Naomi Karn. I'm told you want to discuss something with me." June muttered, "Good Lord." May craned her neck for a better look. April laughed out loud and said energetically, "Curtain. Absolutely curtain." Wolfe had his lips pursed. Before he got them open for words, Miss Karn whirled to Glenn Pres- cott: "Is it true that you're in a plot to have that will declared a forgery? Answer me!" The lawyer gaped at her. "What's that?" he sputtered. "A plot to--a forgery--what the devil--" "I insist it was a curtain," April declared. Her sisters were saying something too, and Stauffer was shushing her, and Prescott and Miss Karn were making it a free-for-all, with nothing emerging for the record, until White's voice came out on top: "That will do! Ladies and gentlemen! My office is not a barnyard!" He gave me a withering glance. "Confound you, Archie!" He switched to the lawyer. "Mr. Prescott, I beg your pardon for having in my employ a young man whose soaring imagination alights on such cliches as sinister plots and forged wills --As for you, Miss Karn, I presume you think you are being audacious and intrepid--"
FR1;WHERE THERE^S A WILL 55 "Positively Penthesilean," May inserted. Wolfe ignored it. "Taking the bull by the horns. Pfui! It should be possible to adhere to the code of ordinary decent manners even when fighting for a fortune. It should also be possible for a young woman with eyes as intelligent as yours to avoid being hoodwinked by Mr. Goodwin's elephantine capers. It may be, I admit, that you were disconcerted because, coming here expecting a private interview with me, you found these people here. That was not my fault, nor theirs. They did not know you were coming, nor did I know they were. They came, unannounced, to tell me that Mrs. Noel Hawthorne, immediately after leaving my office this afternoon, proceeded to engage a lawyer, and that he has already made formal application to Mr. Prescott for a copy of the will. As you see, you're not the only one--Yes, Fritz?" Fritz had entered in his grand manner, but an unexpected bump in his right rear cramped his style. My eyes widened as I saw who it was that had accidentally bumped him, brushing past--our old friend Inspector Cramer of the homicide squad. At his heels was that pillar of pessimism, District Attorney Skinner, and in the rear was a bony little runt with a mustache, carrying last year's straw hat. Fritz, bumped, seeing there was nothing left FR1;56 WHERE THERE'S A WILL for him to announce, stepped aside and tried not to glare with indignation. "Wolfe's voice sang out, "How-do-you-do, gentlemen! As you see, I'm busy. If you will kindly--" "That's all right, Mr. Wolfe." Skinner, his deep bass croaking, pushed in front of Cramer. He glanced around at the faces. "Mrs. John Charles Dunn? I'm District Attorney Skinner. Miss May Hawthorne? Miss April Hawthorne? I have some-- uh--unpleasant news for you." He sounded apologetic. "It was necessary to find you at once--" "Permit me, sir," Wolfe snapped at him. "This is intolerable! We are conferring on a private matter--"
"I'm sorry," said Skinner. "Believe me, I am sorry. Our business is extremely urgent, or we wouldn't come barging in like this. "We wish to make some inquiries regarding the death of Mr. Noel Hawthorne last Tuesday afternoon. At your place in the country up near Nyack, wasn't it, Mrs. Dunn?" "Yes." June's dark eyes were piercing him. "What do you--why do you wish to inquire about it?" "Because that is our unpleasant duty." Skinner met her gaze. "Because we are confronted by evidence that your brother's death was not accidental. Evidence, in fact, that he was murdered." WHERE THERE'S A WILL 57 There was dead silence. Good and dead. Skinner and Cramer were taking in faces, and I took them in too. I was close enough to April so that when her lips moved I caught the whispered breath of the two syllables, "Curtain," but her pallor and her staring eyes told me that she wasn't aware she had breathed at all. CHAPTER FOUR wolfe heaved a deep sigh. Prescott got to his feet, opened his mouth, shut it again, and sat down. Osric Stauffer emitted a sound suggestive of shocked and indignant disbelief, which went unnoticed. June, her eyes still piercing Skinner, said, "That's impossible." Her voice went a little higher: "Quite impossible!" "I wish it were, Mrs. Dunn," he declared. "I sincerely do. No one realizes better than I do what this will mean to all of you--your husband and your sisters--all the regrettable aspects of it--and it was with the greatest reluctance--almost unconquerable reluctance--" "That's a lie." The voice came from May Hawthorne, but it was a new one. It snapped like a whip. "Let's take this as it is, Mr. Skinner. Don't snivel about reluctance. "We know the smell of politics. This means it has been decided that you can use my brother's death to finish off my brother-inlaw. Perhaps you can. Go ahead and try, but spare us the cant." Skinner, looking at her and letting her finish, said with composure, "You're wrong. Miss Hawthorne. I assure you it was with deep and genuine reluctance--" 58 WHERE THERE'S A WILL 59 "Do you deny that for the past two months your crowd has been spreading calumny regarding my brother-in-law and his relations with my brother?" "Yes, I do deny it. I belong to no crowd, unless you mean my political party. I have heard gossip, a good many people have�" "Do you deny�" "Don't, May," commanded June, taking over. "What's the use?" Her eyes darted to Skinner again. "You stated that you have evidence that my brother was murdered. What is the evidence?" "I'll tell you that shortly, Mrs. Dunn. Before it can be known exactly what the evidence means it will be necessary to ask for a little information from you. That's why�" "May I ask a question?" came from Glenn Prescott. "Certainly." Skinner nodded at his professional brother. "I'm glad you're here, Prescott. Not that I propose to give Mrs. Dunn any reason to consult an attorney, but I'm glad you're here, anyway." "So am I," said Prescott succinctly. "For one thing, if there was a murder, it was in Rockland County, wasn't it?" "Yes." Skinner turned abruptly to indicate the bony undersized person with the straw hat still in his hand. "This is Mr. B. A. Regan, district attor- FR1;60 WHERE THERE'S A WILL ney of Rockland County. Mr. Regan, of course you've heard of Glenn Prescott, of Dunwoodie, Prescott & Davis." "Sure I have," Mr. Regan declared. "It's a pleasure." Prescott nodded curtly. "I see." "Mr. Regan came to consult my office. If you would prefer to have him do the talking--" "Not at all. Go ahead. But another point--not a legal one, but still a point--you say you have evidence that Noel Hawthorne was murdered at the home of John Charles Dunn, while he was a guest there, and when Mr. Dunn was present. Wouldn't it have been usual and proper to advise Mr. Dunn himself first of all? Instead of broadcasting it? Particularly in view of his eminent position? Instead of tracing Mrs. Dunn to this place and bursting in here and blurting it in her face in the presence of a throng of people?" The skin around the district attorney's mouth and eyes had tightened. He said, "I don't like your tone, Prescott." "Never mind my tone. What about my questions?"