Purley Stebbins got up, detoured around Cramer and Briggs, got an empty chair, put it just behind O'Malley's right elbow, and sat. O'Malley didn't glance at him. Wolfe was speaking.
'Manifestly, establishing that O'Malley got at that letter in order to make that notation on it in Corrigan's hand before it came to me will not convict him of murder. By then all of you had heard the title Of Baird Archer's novel, 'Put Not Your Trust,' and anyone could have known or learned that it came from the third verse of the Hundred and Forty-sixth Psalm. But it shows that he wanted to present me with evidence that someone in your office was connected with the manuscript and therefore with the crimes, and that that someone was Corrigan, I am going-'
'Why Corrigan?' Kustin demanded.
'That's what I'm coming to. I'm going to have to tell you things I can't prove, as I did with X. It is still X, only now I call him O'Malley. An odd thing about this confession is that nearly every detail of it is true and strictly accurate. The man who wrote it did find the manuscript in Dykes's desk and read it; he found that its contents were as described; he went to see Dykes and talked with him as related; he killed Dykes essentially for the reason given, fear of what might result from his knowledge of the contents of the manuscript; he killed Miss Wellman and Miss Abrams for a like reason. But it was O'Malley who wrote the confession. He-'
'You're crazy,' Kustin blurted. 'The manuscript revealed that Corrigan had informed on O'Malley. Is that right?'
'Yes.'
'And O'Malley learned that fact by finding and reading the manuscript?'
'Yes.'
'So he killed three people to keep it from being known that Corrigan had informed on him? For God's sake!'
'No. He killed three people so he could safely kill a fourth.' Wolfe was on his way now. 'When he learned that it was Corrigan who had ruined his career, destroyed him, he determined to kill Corrigan. But no matter how cleverly he managed it, Dykes would be an intolerable menace. Dykes knew that O'Malley knew of Corrigan's treachery, and if Corrigan met a sudden and violent death, no matter how, Dykes might speak. So first Dykes had to go, and he did. Then Joan Wellman-was she also a menace? O'Malley had to find out, and
he arranged to meet her. He may have thought he intended her no harm-the confession says so-but when she spoke of the resemblance of the novel's plot to an event in real life, and even came close to remembering his name, that, as the confesion says, was more than enough for him. Five hours later she was dead.'
There was a noise from the rear of the room, the sound of a chair scraping. John R. Wellman was on his feet and moving. Eyes went to him. Wolfe stopped speaking, but Wellman came on tiptoe, off to one side, around the corner and along the wall to the chair which Purley Stebbins had vacated. It had an unobstructed view of the lawyers.
'Excuse me,' he said, apparently to everyone, and sat.
There were murmurs from the women. Cramer shot a glance at Wellman, evidently decided that he was not getting set as a nemesis, and looked at Wolfe.
'There remained,' Wolfe resumed, 'only one source of possible danger, Rachel Abrams. O'Malley had probably been told about her by Dykes, but whether he had or not, he had found the receipts she had given Baird Archer when he searched Dykes's apartment. I'll read a few lines from the confession.' He fingered the sheets, found the place, and read:
'My inner being could not permit me to feel any moral repulsion at the thought of killing Joan Wellman, certainly not enough to restrain me, for if killing her was morally unacceptable how could I justify the killing of Dykes? By killing Joan Wellman the process was completed. After that, given adequate motive, I could have killed any number of people without any sign of compunction. So in contemplating the murder of Rachel Adams my only concerns were whether it was necessary and whether it could be performed without undue risk. I decided it was necessary.'
.Wolfe looked up. 'This is indeed a remarkable document. There we have a man relieving his mind, perhaps even soothing his soul, by coolly expounding the stages of his transformation into a cold-blooded killer, but avoiding the consequent penalty by ascribing the deeds and the onus to another person. It was an adroit and witty stratagem, and it would have triumphed if Mr. Wellman had not engaged my services and
remained resolute in spite of repeated checks and disappointments.
'But I'm ahead of myself. This confession is all right as far as it goes, but it leaves gaps. By the day he went for Rachel Abrams, the twenty-sixth of February, two weeks ago today, she was more than a remote threat. He knew-'
'You still mean O'Malley?' Kustin cut in.
'Yes.'
'Then you're talking too fast. O'Malley was in AtlaJM two weeks ago today.'
Wolfe nodded. 'I'll get to that. By that day he knew tfiat I was on the case and was concentrating on Baird Archer and the manuscript, and the possibility that I might find Rachel Abrams certainly did not escape him. He had to deal with her first, and he did-a scant two minutes before Mr. Goodwin reached her. And there he was. The preliminaries were completed. He was ready for what had always been his real objective: the murder of Corrigan. To abandon it was unthinkable, but now it was not so simple. Needing to learn how much I knew, he phoned Corrigan to suggest that all of you should come here and invite my questions, and you came. It may be that my asking to see Dykes's letter of resignation first gave him the idea of putting it all onto Corrigan; that's of no moment; in any case, he contrived to put that notation in Corrigan's hand on the letter before it reached me, as the first step.'
Wolfe paused to glance at Wellman, but our client was merely gazing at O'Malley, with no apparent intention of taking part. He went on. 'When the police confronted you with the notation, of course O'Malley had to join you in your claim of ignorance and your charge that I must have made the notation myself. Then came the letter from Mrs. Potter, and naturally that suited him admirably. He knew it was a decoy, either mine or Mr. Cramer's, for he was confident that all copies of the manuscript had been destroyed. I have had no report of your conference that day, but I would give odds that he maneuvered with all his dexterity to arrange that Corrigan should be the one to go to California. The result met his highest expectations. On Corrigan's return you came
