'Probably,' Wolfe said, 'it's time to let the police in. I suppose they'll get along faster with you-'
'You fat bastard!' But the snarl in Larry's voice had become a whine.
Wolfe grimaced. 'I'll try once more, sir. You are going to answer these questions, if not for me then for someone less fat but more importunate. Would you rather have it dug out of the servants and your friends and acquaintances? It's shabby enough as it is; that would only make it worse. When did your aunt take that picture from you?'
Larry's jaw worked, but his tongue didn't. Wolfe waited ten seconds, then said curtly:
'Let them in, Archie.'
I took a step, but before I took another one Larry blurted:
'Goddamn you! You know damn well when she took it! She took it the day she came down here!'
Wolfe nodded. 'That's better. But that wasn't the first time she objected to your relations with Miss Nichols. Was
it?'
'No.'
'Did she object on moral grounds?'
'Hell, no. She objected to our getting married. She ordered me to break off the engagement. The engagement was secret, but she got suspicious and questioned Janet, and Janet told her, and she made me call it off.'
'And naturally you were engaged.' Wolfe's voice was smooth, silky. 'You burned for revenge-'
'I did not!' Larry leaned forward, having trouble to control his jaw. 'You can come off that right now! You're not going to pin anything on me! I never really wanted to marry her, and what's more, I never intended to! I can prove that by a friend of mine!'
'Indeed.' Wolfe's eyes were nearly shut. 'A man like you has friends? I suppose so. But after your aunt made you break the engagement you still kept the picture in your watch?'
'Yes. I had to. I mean I had Janet to deal with too, and it wasn't easy, living right there in the house. I was afraid of her. You don't know her. I opened the watch case purposely in front of my aunt so she'd take that damn picture. Janet seemed to think the picture meant something, and I thought when she knew it was gone-'
'Did you know that Miss Nichols sent the anonymous letters?'
'No, I didn't. Maybe I suspected, but I didn't know.'
'Did you also suspect, when your aunt-'
'Stop! Stop it!'
It was Janet.
She didn't raise her voice. She didn't have to. The tone alone was enough to stop anything and anybody. It was what you would expect to come out of an old abandoned grave, if you had such expectations. Except her mouth, no part of her moved. Her eyes were concentrated on Wolfe's face, with an expression in them that made it necessary for me to look somewhere else. Apparently it had the same effect on the others, for they did the same as me. We gazed at Wolfe.
'Ha,' he said quietly. 'A little too much for you, is it, Miss Nichols?'
She went on staring at him.
'As I expected,' he said, 'you're all rubble inside. There's nothing left of you. The simplest way is for me to dictate a confession and you sign it. Then I'll send a copy of it to a man I know, the editor of the Gazette, and it will be on his front page this evening. He would like an exclusive picture of you to go with it, and Mr. Goodwin will be glad to take it. I know you'll like that.'
Uh-huh, I thought, he's not only going to make a monkey of Cramer, he's going to give him a real black eye. Daniel muttered something, and so did Brady, but Wolfe silenced them with a gesture.
'For your satisfaction,' he went on, 'I ought to tell you, Miss Nichols, that your guilt was by no means obvious. I became aware of it only when Mr. Goodwin telephoned me from Riverdale this morning, though I did of course notice Mr. Larry Huddleston's hexagonal watch when he came here nine days ago, and I surmised your picture had been in it. But your performance today was the act of a nitwit. I presume you were struck with consternation yesterday when you saw that turf being removed, realized what the consequences would be, and attempted to divert suspicion by staging an attack on yourself. Did you know what I was getting at a while ago when I asked Dr. Brady why you didn't jerk the brush away the instant you felt the glass puncture your skin? And he replied, as of course he would, that you didn't feel the glass cutting you?'
She didn't answer.
'That,' Wolfe said, 'was precisely the point, that you did jerk the brush away when you had pulled it along your arm less than an inch, because you knew the glass was there and was cutting you, having put it there yourself.
Otherwise the cut would have been much longer, probably half the length of your arm. You saw Mr. Goodwin wield the brush as an illustration, sweeping from wrist to shoulder. Everyone does that. At least, no one moves the brush less than an inch and stops. But even without that, your performance today was fantastic, if you meant-as you did-to make it appear as an attempt by some other person to kill you. Such a person would have known that after what had happened, even if you used the bogus iodine, you would certainly have antitoxin administered, which would have made the attempt a fiasco. Whereas you, arranging the affair yourself, knew that a dose of antitoxin would save you from harm. You really-'
