questions?'
'Of course. But I've taken more than my half an hour, and I owe you-'
'No. If you didn't shoot your husband we have both been snared by circumstance. First, instead of a ques- tion, a statement: you can't take the gun. The gun stays here. Now. When and where did-'
'But I'm going to put it back where I got it!'
'No. I accept Mr. Goodwin's guess as a hypothesis, but I can't let you take the gun. When and where did you last see your husband?'
'Last night. At home. We had people for dinner.'
'Details. How many people? Their names.'
'They were clients of Barry's, important clients-all but one. Mrs. Victor Oliver. Anne Talbot, Mrs. Henry Lewis Talbot. Jules Khoury. Ambrose Perdis. Ted- Theodore Weed-he's not a client, he works for Barry. Seven, counting Barry and me.'
'When did the guests leave?'
'I don't know exactly. Barry had told me he was going to discuss something with them, and I wouldn't be needed, and after the coffee I left. That's when I last saw him, there with them. I went upstairs to my bed- room.'
'Did you hear him when he went up to bed?'
'No. There's a spare bedroom between his room and mine. And I was played out. I told you, I had the first good night's sleep I have had for a month.'
'You didn't see him this morning?' 'No. He wasn't there. He rises early. The maid who-oh. Oh!'
'What?'
'Nothing-nothing that matters to you. I am not liking myself, Mr. Wolfe. I said he rises early, but now I can say he rose early, and I wanted to sing it. I did! No one is good enough to have a right to be glad that someone has died. The Lord knows I'm not. What if I never loved him? What if I married him because-'
Wolfe cut her off. 'If you please. You'll have plenty of time for that. About the maid?'
She swallowed with her lips pressed tight. 'I'm sorry. The maid who sleeps in and gets breakfast said he hadn't come down, and she had gone up and the door of his room was open and his bed hadn't been slept in. He had done that before, not very often, once or twice a month.'
'Without telling you where he was going or, after- wards, where he had been?'
'Yes.'
'Do you know or can you guess where he went last night, or with whom, or to whom?'
'No. I have no idea.'
'I am still assuming that you didn't kill him, but how vulnerable are you? Were you continually in your house-it is a house, not an apartment?'
'Yes.'
'Were you in it continually from the time you went to your bedroom last night until you left this morning?'
'Yes.'
'Would the maid have heard you if you had gone out during the night? Sneaked out, and later in again?'
'I don't think so. Her room is in the basement.'
Wolfe nodded. 'You are vulnerable. What time did you leave this morning?'
'At five minutes past eleven. I wanted to be sure to get here on time.'
'When did you take the gun from the drawer in your husband's room?' 'Just before I left. I didn't decide to bring it until the last minute.'
'How many people know that you despised your husband?'
She gazed at him, not blinking, no reply.
''Despise' is your word, Mrs. Hazen. It is not ade- quate. No one kills a man, or wants to, merely because she despises him. But I'm not going into that; it could take all day. How many people know that you despised him?'
'I don't think anyone does.' It was barely audible, and I have good ears. 'I have never told anyone, not even my best friend. She may have suspected, I sup- pose she did.'
'Pfui.' Wolfe flipped a hand. 'Your maid knows, for one, if she's not a dolt. She is of course being questioned at this moment. Was your husband wealthy?'
'I don't know. He had a large income, he must have, he was free with money. He owned the house.'
'Any children?'
'No.'
