'Not of course. Just I discovered it.'
He pronounced another contraband word. 'Repeat that address.'
I repeated it. The connection went. As I hung up a notion struck me. Hattie wasn't there to call me a bootlicker and flunky and toady, and it wouldn't hurt to be polite; and besides, it would be interesting and in- structive to see how Stebbins would react to outside authority sticking a finger in his pie. So I got the phone book from the stand, found the number, and dialed it.
A man's voice answered. 'Rector two, nine one hun- dred.'
Being discreet. Liking it plain, I asked, 'Secret Ser- vice Division?'
'Yes.'
'I would like to speak to Mr. Albert Leach.'
'Mr. Leach isn't in at the moment. Who is this, please?'
My reply was delayed because my attention was diverted. The front door had opened and a man had entered; and, hearing my voice, he had approached for a look. I looked back. He was young and handsome- Broadway handsome. The phone repeated, 'Who is this, please?'
'My name is Archie Goodwin. I have a message for Mr. Leach. He asked me this morning about a woman named Tammy Baxter. Tell him that Miss Baxter is dead. Murdered. Her body was discovered in the parlor of the house where she lived on Forty-seventh Street. I have just notified the police. I thought Mr. Leach-'
The Homicide Trinity 167
I dropped the phone on the cradle, moved, and called, 'Hey you! Hold it!'
The handsome young man, halfway to the parlor door, stopped and wheeled; and at the rear of the hall there were steps and Martha Kirk's voice, and she came trotting, the trot of a dancer, with Raymond Dell strid- ing at her heels. As I crossed the hall a buzzer sounded in the kitchen, and I went and opened the door. It was two harness bulls. They stepped in and the one in front spoke. 'Are you Archie Goodwin?'
'I am.' I pointed to the parlor door. 'In there.'
Chapter 4
Two hours later, at twenty minutes to four, as I sat at the big table in the kitchen eating crackers and cheese and raspberry preserves, and drinking coffee, Inspector Cramer of Homicide West sent for me to ask me a favor. Very few people or situations had ever got Cramer to the point of asking a favor of me, but Hattie Annis had managed it.
With me at the table were two of the roomers, Noel Ferris and Paul Hannah. Ferris was the handsome young man who had appeared as I was phoning. Hannah was even younger, but not as handsome. He had chubby pink cheeks and not enough nose, and his ears stuck out. A dick had gone for him at the Mush- room Theater, where he had been rehearsing. At the moment Cramer sent for me he and Ferris were dis- cussing the question, when had they last been in the parlor? Ferris said one evening about a month ago, when he had gone in to see if the piano was as bad as Martha said it was, and had found it was worse. Hannah said two weeks ago yesterday, when he had come downstairs to make a phone call and Martha was at the
168 Rex Stout
phone talking, and he had stepped into the parlor be- cause he didn't want to stand there and listen. Before they had got onto that they had argued about the knife. Hannah said he had identified it as one from a kitchen drawer which he had often used, and Ferris said he shouldn't have identified it; he should have merely said it was similar. They had got fairly heated, paying no attention to a city employee who was on a chair by the door, taking it in.
I hadn't been allowed in the parlor, but I had seen the experts come and go, and some of them were still there. My first interview had been with Purley Stebbins, who had arrived in person only ten minutes behind the pair from the prowl car. That had taken place in the kitchen. My second interview had been in the room above the kitchen, Raymond Dell's room as I learned later, with Inspector Cramer and the T-man, Albert Leach. That was an honor, but I felt that I rated it because if it hadn't been for me they wouldn't have been there. My phone call to the Secret Service had brought Leach on the jump, and Leach's appearance had brought the Inspector. No doubt about it. So it was Cramer, not Stebbins, that I got to see reacting to outside authority, and it wasn't very instructive because he was mostly reacting to me as usual.
'You say Wolfe told her he would expect no fee and he wasn't interested in a reward, but he sent you here with her and you paid the cab fare. Nuts. I know Wolfe and I know you. You expect me to swallow that?'
Or: 'You try to tell me that you don't know exactly how long it was after you found the body until you called Stebbins because you didn't look at your watch when you found the body. That's a lie. The way you've been trained looking at your watch would have been automatic. Raymond Dell and Martha Kirk say it was just a few minutes after one when you and Hattie Annis left the kitchen. You called Stebbins at one-thirty-four. Half an hour. What were you doing?'
Or: 'Quit your clowning!'
Of course he was at a disadvantage, since at the
The Homicide Trinity 169
beginning he expected to be riled because he knew I knew how, and when he's riled his mind skips. So I got no bruises, and the one ticklish point was never men- tioned. I gave him all the facts about the package from the time Hattie left it with me until I put it in the safe, excepting one detail, and he didn't even hint at the possibility that it might be queer, and neither did Leach. Leach homed in only once, when he got riled