Gambit

flipped a hand. 'You realize I've been over all this, with the police and at the District Attorney's office. If there's any possible reason why Nash or Tony would have done it I don't know what it is, and the police would have dug it up.' 'Then you exclude them?' 'If the cops do, I do.' 'Then you're up a stump, Mr Farrow. You've excluded everybody. No one put arsenic in the chocolate. Can you explain how it got into Mr Jerin?' 'I don't have to. That's not up to me, it's up to the police.' He uncrossed his legs. He looked at his watch. 'All right, I came here to say something and I've said it. Before I leave I want to see my cousin. Where is she?' Wolfe looked at me, putting it up to the opposed expert on women. It seemed to me ihat the situation called more for an expert on ^P executives, but I was for anything that 101 ^t ?: might possibly give a gleam of light or hope, so I said I would ask her and got up and headed for the hall and the stairs. Mounting the two nights, I found that I wouldn't have to knock; she was there at the landing with her shoes on' Halting on the third step from the top, I asked her, 'Could you hear?' 'I wasn't trying to,' she said. 'I was wanting to go down, but Mr Wolfe said not to. Of course I could hear his voice. What does he say?' 'He's a psychologist. He says you have kinks. He says it's always one way or the other, either the mother is jealous of the daughter or the daughter is jealous of the mother, and a daughter jealous of a mother can think anything. He wants to see you before he goes, probably to straighten out a kink or two, and if you would like--' 'What does he say about Clan Kalmus?' 'That's one of your kinks. Your idea about Kalmus is pure crap. You may even--' She moved. I had to either sidestep or get bumped, so I made room for her to get by, and had another look at the nice shoulders and the neck curve as I followed her down. As we entered the office Farrow twisted around in his chair and then arose, and apparently he intended to give her a cousinly kiss, but the look on her face stopped him. It certainly would have stopped me. He was starting, 'Now look here, Sal, you--', but she stopped 102 that also. 'You too,' she said, with more scorch than I would have thought she had in her. 'You would like it too, wouldn't you? You think she would have it all, she would own everything, and she would let you run it. You would think that, but you're wrong. You're always wrong. She would let him run it; that's what he's after, besides her. You're just a fool, a complete fool, you always have been.' She turned and went, to the door and on out. Farrow stood and gawked at her back, then wheeled to Wolfe, extended his hands, palms up, and waggled his head. 'By God,' he said, 'there you are. Calling me a fool. What did I tell you? Calling me a fool!' CHAPTER EIGHT At the dinner table, and with coffee in the office afterwards, Wolfe resumed on the subject he had started at lunch?Voltaire. The big question was, could a man be called great on account of the way he used words, even though he was a toady, a trimmer, a forger, and an intellectual fop. That had been dealt with at lunch, and Voltaire had come out fairly well except on the toady count. How could you call a man great who sought the company and the lavors of dukes and duchesses, of Richelieu, of 103 Frederick of Prussia? But it was at dinner and in the office that Voltaire really got it. What finally ruled him out was something that hadn't been mentioned at lunch at all: he had no palate and not much appetite. He was indifferent to food; he might even eat only once a day; and he drank next to nothing. All his life he was extremely skinny, and in his later years he was merely a skeleton. To call him a great man was absurd; strictly speaking, he wasn't a man at all, since he had no palate and a dried-up stomach. He was a remarkable wordassembly plant, but he wasn't a man, let alone a great one. I suppose I shouldn't do this. I should either report Wolfe's table talk verbatim, and you could either enjoy it or skip it, or I shouldn't mention it. Usually I leave it out, but that evening I had a suspicion that I want to put in. Reporting to him on my visit to the Blount apartment, I had of course included a description ofKalmus: mostly bones and skin. I suspected that that was why Wolfe picked on Voltaire for both lunch and dinner, leading up to the climax. It wasn't much of a connection, but it was a connection, and it showed that he couldn't forget the fix he was in even at meals. That was my suspicion, and, if I was right, I didn't like it. It had never happened before. It had to mean that he was afraid that sooner or later he was going to have to eat something highly unpleasant for both his palate and his 104 stomach?the assumption that Matthew Blount was innocent. The coffee things were still there and he was still on Voltaire when Charles W. Yerkes came a little before nine-thirty. Another indication ofWolfe's state of mind was when the doorbell rang and Sally asked him if she should leave, and he raised his shoulders an eighth of an inch and said, 'As you please.' That wasn't him at all, and, as I went to the front to admit the caller, I had to arrange my face not to give him the impression that what we needed was sympathy and plenty of it. Sally had stood when I went to answer the bell, and she met Yerkes at the office door. He took her offered hand in both of his, murmuring something, gave her hand a pat and let it go, and shot a glance to right and left as he entered. When Wolfe didn't extend a hand of course he didn't; he was a top executive. They exchanged nods as I pronounced names, and he waited until Sally was seated, in one of the yellow chairs I had moved up, to take the red leather one. As he sat he spoke, to her. 'I came because I said I would, Sally, but I'm a little confused. After you phoned I called your mother, and apparently there's a ... a misunderstanding. She seems to think you're making a mistake.' Sally nodded. 'Did she tell you what I?why I'm here?' 'Only vaguely. Perhaps you'll tell me, so I'll 105 Frederick of Prussia? But it was at dinner and in the office that Voltaire really got it. What finally ruled him out was something that hadn't been mentioned at lunch at all: he had no palate and not much appetite. He was indifferent to food; he might even eat only once a day; and he drank next to nothing. All his life he was extremely skinny, and in his later years he was merely a skeleton. To call him a great man was absurd; strictly speaking, he wasn't a man at all, since he had no palate and a dried-up stomach. He was a remarkable wordassembly plant, but he wasn't a man, let alone a great one. I suppose I shouldn't do this. I should either report Wolfe's table talk verbatim, and you could either enjoy it or skip it, or I shouldn't mention it. Usually I leave it out, but that evening I had a suspicion that I want to put in. Reporting to him on my visit to the Blount apartment, I had of course included a description ofKalmus: mostly bones and skin. I suspected that that was why Wolfe picked on Voltaire for both lunch and dinner, leading up to the climax. It wasn't much of a connection, but it was a connection, and it showed that he couldn't forget the fix he was in even at meals. That was my suspicion, and, if I was right, I didn't like it. It had never happened before. It had to mean that he was afraid that sooner or later he was going to have to eat something highly unpleasant for both his palate and his 104 stomach?the assumption that Matthew Blount was innocent. The coffee things were still there and he was still on Voltaire when Charles W. Yerkes came a little before nine-thirty. Another indication ofWolfe's state of mind was when the doorbell rang and Sally asked him if she should leave, and he raised his shoulders an eighth of an inch and said, 'As you please.' That wasn't him at all, and, as I went to the front to admit the caller, I had to arrange my face not to give him the impression that what we needed was sympathy and plenty of it. Sally had stood when I went to answer the bell, and she met Yerkes at the office door. He took her offered hand in both of his, murmuring something, gave her hand a pat and let it go, and shot a glance to right and left as he entered. When Wolfe didn't extend a hand of course he didn't; he was a top executive. They exchanged nods as I pronounced names, and he waited until Sally was seated, in one of the yellow chairs I had moved up, to take the red leather one. As he sat he spoke, to her. 'I came because I said I would, Sally, but I'm a little confused. After you phoned I called your mother, and apparently there's a ... a misunderstanding. She seems to think you're making a mistake.' Sally nodded. 'Did she tell you what I?why I'm here?' 'Only vaguely. Perhaps you'll tell me, so I'll 105 know why I'm here.' He was smiling at her, friendly but wanting to know. Cagey, but why not? A senior vice-president of a billion-dollar bank who is involved in a front- page murder case, even accidentally, isn't going to get involved any deeper if he can help it. Also he was good at chess. 'I don't think I'm making a mistake,' Sally said. 'The reason I'm here is ... because I...' She let it hang, turned her head to look at me, and then looked at Wolfe. 'Will you tell him, Mr Wolfe?' Wolfe was leaning back, his eyes at Yerkes. 'I presume, sir, you're a man of discretion.' 'I like to think I am.' At Wolfe, the banker wasn't smiling. 'I try to be.' 'Good. The circumstances require it. It's merely a difference of opinion, but it would be unfortunate if it were made public at the moment. You may have seen an item in a newspaper yesterday that I have been engaged to inquire into the murder of Paul Jerin.' 'It was called to my attention.' 'It was Miss Blount who engaged me, against the advice of her father and his attorney, and her mother agrees with them. She offered me a sizable fee and I took it. Knowing that her father is in serious jeopardy, she fears that his counsel is not up to the emergency, and she has a high regard for my talents, possibly exaggerated. In making an inquiry I need to inquire, and you are one of 106 those concerned in the matter. Mrs Blount thinks her daughter has made a mistake in hiring me, but her daughter doesn't and I don't. My self-esteem rejects any supposition that I'll be a hindrance. I may conceivably hit upon a point that Mr Kalmus would miss--not that I challenge his competence, though he decries mine. Have I made it clear--why Miss Blount asked you to come?' 'Not entirely. Of course I have been questioned by law officers, and by Mr Kalmus, but I could contribute nothing useful.' Yerkes's eyes went to Sally, shifting around ninety degrees while his head hardly moved at all. It's a good trick for a shoplifter or pickpocket because it helps on security, and it's probably also good at directors' meetings because it saves energy. He asked her, 'Why do you think Clan isn't up to it, Sally? Any particular reason?' Either Mrs Blount hadn't mentioned the problem of jealous daughters or he was being discreet. Sally did all right. 'No,' she said, 'not particular. I'm just...