“Pfui. Have you ever seen me out of control?”
“We can save that. Remind me some time. Sit down, Tabby.” I took the chair at my desk and proceeded to report, covering everything, which didn’t take long since no long conversations were involved. Apparently Wolfe was taking it in.
I ended up, “It depends on Mrs. Bynoe. As far as I know it could have been epilepsy. But if it was something else, something that gets the cops on it and makes them work, they’ll learn that the guy who tried to get at her in front of the church was the one who grabbed the orchids later, and they’ll probably find him. When they do, will he talk? Yes. Sooner or later, and I suspect sooner. So I think we might invite Tabby to stick around until we know the score.” I looked at my wristwatch. “It’s been over an hour. I can try Lon Cohen at the
Wolfe was frowning at me. “Do so.”
I swiveled and dialed. Usually I can get right through to Lon, but that time it took five minutes. When I finally got him he said he was in a boil and I made it snappy.
“A question, maybe two. Have you anything in about Mrs. Millard Bynoe?”
“Yes. She’s dead. That’s the boil. And last Wednesday you were here collecting pictures of her and her husband. I was just going to ring you. Where do you come in? And Nero Wolfe? Speak.”
“At present I’m just curious, and this call is absolutely off the record. If and when we do come in I’ll think of you. Where and when did she die, and what killed her?”
“On the sidewalk on Fifty-fourth Street between Madison and Fifth, about an hour ago. What, I don’t know, but they have taken the body to the morgue and the Commissioner is standing by, not to mention others. Are you going to open up or not?”
“I’m just curious. It itches. You might ring me every hour on the hour.”
He said sure, he had nothing else to do, and hung up. I turned and relayed it to Wolfe, and as I finished Tabby was out of his chair, his sharp little eyes darting from Wolfe to me and back again.
“I want my money,” he said, tending to squeak. “That’s what I want, see?” He started to tremble. “What the hell!”
I went and put a hand on his shoulder, friendly. “Take it easy, Tabby,” I told him. I turned to Wolfe. “I met this gentleman a couple of years ago in connection with one of our cases, and did him a little favor, but he doesn’t know my true character, or yours either. He suspects we may be tying a can on him, and he’s scared stiff, and you can’t blame him. Maybe he scares easy, but he has been around, and he knows they wouldn’t call the Commissioner in on Easter Sunday unless they had something, even for Mrs. Millard Bynoe, and I know it too. Ten to one it’s murder, and if so they’ll find Tabby, and if they find him they’ll find me, and if they find me they’ll find you.”
Wolfe was glaring at us. “Confound it,” he muttered.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “So you and Tabby have problems, not to mention me. You hired him, through me, to commit petty larceny, and that will make fine reading. He committed the larceny, but what’s worse, he has now got it in his head that we have framed him for something in a murder, and try to get it out. He’s too scared to listen to reason. You may think of something besides reason for him to listen to.”
“Is there any chance that he seized an opportunity? When he got in front of her as she crossed the sidewalk?”
“No. Cross it off. I saw it. And why? Skip it. Also, I know him and that’s not in him.”
“Who is he? What’s his name?”
“Just call him Tabby. He prefers it.”
“I want my money,” Tabby squeaked. “That’s all I want.”
Wolfe, eying him, took in air, clear down, and let it out again. “You understand, sir,” he said, “that this may be only a bugaboo. Mrs. Bynoe may have died of natural causes.”
“I want my money,” Tabby squeaked.
“No doubt. But she may not, and in that case the investigation will be thorough. We’ll soon know, and if it was murder I’m in a pickle. Putting it at a minimum, I would prefer not to have it published that I hired a man to steal a flower, especially if he tore it from her breast as she lay dying. You want your money. If I give it to you, and you leave, what will happen? Either you will spend it in an effort to keep yourself out of the hands of the police, not an attractive prospect for you; or you will go to the police at once and unburden yourself, not an attractive prospect for me.”
Wolfe sighed again. “So I’m not going to pay you, not-Let me finish, please. I shall not pay you now. There is a comfortable room on the third floor of this house, and my cook is unsurpassed if not unequaled. If you will occupy that room, communicate with no one, and not leave the house until I give the word, I will then pay you the hundred dollars and also ten dollars for each day you have been here.”
During the next minute Tabby opened his mouth three times to speak and each time closed it again. It was a hard chew for him, and when he finally got to the point of words they were not for Wolfe. He turned to me and demanded, “What about this guy?”
I grinned at him. “He could lie rings around you, Tabby. But he’s too damn conceited to double-cross a man, let alone a peanut. Also, if I count, I’ll sign it.”
He left me to squint at Wolfe, and after another chew he nodded. “Okay, but no lousy ten bucks a day. Twenty.”
As I mentioned, the offer of two Cs had been a mistake. Delusions of grandeur. Wolfe, being in a pickle, would probably have stood for it, but I put in. “Nothing doing,” I said firmly. “Ten a day and found, and wait till you taste the found.” I touched his elbow. “Come on and I’ll show you your room.”
Chapter 3
