'No. I don't know where they are. I have never seen them. The people are here. This will go better if you keep your questions until I'm through. Three of them- Mrs. Oliver, Mrs. Talbot, and Mr. Perdis-came pre- pared to pay, and that was what I was after. I was acting on the premise, certainly worth a test, that one of Hazen's victims had killed him, and to kill him might have been futile unless he got the object or objects that had made it possible for Hazen to bleed him. For a moment I abandon fact for surmise. Mr. Khoury did get the object or objects. By some ruse, probably with the promise of a large sum of money as a lure, he induced Hazen to get his car from the garage Monday night and drive somewhere, and to have with him the object or objects. That surmise is not haphazard. The others came here this evening prepared to pay, but not Mr. Khoury. He knew I had nothing to support my threat. Even when I told him that the objects pertaining to him would be given to the police in ninety minutes he was unmoved.'
'Get back to facts,' Cramer growled. His head turned. 'Mr. Khoury, do you want to comment?'
'No.' From Khoury's smile you might have thought he was enjoying it. 'This is fascinating. I thought I had decided not to bring my share of the million because I didn't believe he had anything that threatened any- body.'
Wolfe, ignoring him, stayed at Cramer. 'For a fact I submit the conversation at the gathering Monday evening after Mrs. Hazen and Mr. Weed had left. Of course you and your staff have it in detail, but you didn't know that Hazen was a blackmailer and that he not only bled his prey, he was pleased to torment them. In that conversation he introduced topics that obvi- ously referred to the pinch he had them in-for in- stance, poison. I don't know which of those present that touched, and am not concerned. But one of his topics pointed clearly at Mr. Khoury. He remarked that his wife's father had been a great inventor, a genius; and
134 Rex Stout
his wife's father, Titus Postel, had been associated with Mr. Khoury. So it seemed likely that his hold on Mr. Khoury was in some way connected with Titus Postel, but at the time I learned that, yesterday evening, I had no reason to single out Mr. Khoury for special attention, so I merely noted it for possible future application.'
Wolfe took a breath. 'But two incidents today did single out Mr. Khoury. Shortly after one o'clock you phoned me to say that the gun I had given you had been the property of Titus Postel and that he had committed suicide with it five years ago; and soon after that, on the telephone with Mr. Khoury, he informed me that he would be present this evening but that he was declining my proposal. He didn't put it in those terms, but that was the gist.'
Khoury made a noise, a subdued snort. Cramer said, 'Yes, Mr. Khoury?'
'Nothing,' Khoury said.
Wolfe resumed. 'Now the guns. Call them Gun H, Mr. Hazen's, the one he was shot with, left in his car;
and Gun P, Mr. Postel's, which I gave you this morning. My account of them is not established fact, but it is more than mere surmise because it is based on a high degree of probability. When Mr. Khoury went to that grotesque dinner party Monday evening he had Gun P with him. During the-'
'You can prove he had it?'
'Certainly not. I'm telling you what happened, not what I can prove. During the evening he found or made an opportunity to go to Mr. Hazen's bedroom, took Gun H from the drawer, and put Gun P in its place. With a double purpose: first, and minor, so that Hazen would find a gun there-they were the same make-if he looked for it. Second, and major, to implicate Mrs. Ha- zen. He intended to leave Gun H in the car after he killed Hazen. The police would of course learn that it had been Hazen's, kept in that drawer in his room, and when they found Gun P there in its place, the gun that had belonged to Mrs. Hazen's father, they would natu- rally assume that she had put it there in a witless effort
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to mislead them. By the way.' His head turned. 'Mrs. Hazen. The gun that had belonged to your father-was it in your possession?'
Lucy's lips formed a 'No,' but there was almost no sound where I sat, five steps away.
'When did you see it last?'
She shook her head. 'I don't understand.' I could hear her now. 'When they told me the gun I brought you was the one my father shot himself with I thought they were lying. I don't understand.'
'No wonder. Neither do the police. Did you ever have that gun-your father's?'
'I had it for a while. They gave it to me after… after he died. I kept it with some of his things. But it disappeared.'
'How long after his death did it disappear?'
'I don't know. It was about two years after that I noticed it was gone.'
'Had you any idea who took it?'
'I didn't know, but I thought perhaps Mrs. Khoury had. I didn't ask her. She thought I shouldn't keep it because it only reminded me…' She let it hang. 'Is it true that my husband was a blackmailer?'
'Yes. And your former employer is not only a mur- derer, he tried to make you his scapegoat. You have been unfortunate in your choice of male associates, but I can relieve your mind about one you didn't choose, your father. He didn't commit suicide; he was mur- dered. By Mr. Khoury.'
'No,' Khoury said. 'Another one? You're piling it on.'
Wolfe leveled his eyes at him. 'Your aplomb is admi- rable, sir,' he said, no sarcasm. 'Of course you're count- ing on what I said at the beginning, that I have no evidence. You're too sanguine. The evidence almost certainly exists, but to get it will require authority and a large trained staff, and I have neither. I am obliged to Mr. Hazen for a valuable hint, his remark that Mrs. Hazen's father was a great inventor and a genius. That suggested that you might have cheated him out of the
