198 Rex Stout
'Then you've already made him eat dirt. I wish I had been here. He was the first one in my room when they busted the door. That's part of your job, to make them pay for that door. The murder, that's their job. I'm surprised it was Tammy Baxter because I thought a counterfeiter would have more clothes, but of course when somebody came for the package and it wasn't there he thought she had taken it and he killed her, but she should have known I had it because I told her yesterday morning-'
The phone rang and I swiveled and got it. A female said that Mr. Mandel wanted to speak to me, and after a wait he came on.
'Goodwin? Mandel of the District Attorney's office. I want to see you. How soon can you be here?'
'Twenty minutes. If necessary.'
'It's necessary. It's ten minutes past twelve. I'll ex- pect you at twelve-thirty. Right?'
I told him yes, traffic permitting, hung up, and arose. 'The DA's office,' I announced. 'I'm surprised it didn't come sooner. You don't need me anyway, you under- stand each other so well.'
I left them.
Chapter 8
They kept me at 155 Leonard Street five and a half hours. All I got out of it was two corned beef sandwiches, a piece of blueberry pie, and two glasses of milk, on the house, eaten at the desk of assistant DA Mandel. What they got out of it was doubtful. In addition to Mandel, I had conversations with another assistant DA named Lindstrom, two de- tectives attached to the DA's office, and District Attor- ney Macklin himself.
Over the years I have been suspected of a lot of
The Homicide Trinity 199
things by various authorities, from corrupting a cop by buying him a drink to complicity in a murder, and that day they added a new one to the list. None of them came right out with it, but what was really biting them was their suspicion that I was in collusion with the United States government. Of course they covered other as- pects of the case, all of them and thoroughly, but what they concentrated on was the package of phony lettuce. That was all the DA himself asked me about, and he put it to me point-blank: did I know the money was coun- terfeit? I told him point-blank no, and felt better; it's always a relief to get a lie off your chest. He said of course I was lying, that I would have been a nitwit not to suspect it. I said it didn't matter now anyway, since the Secret Service had it, and he blew his top. I admit it's hard to believe that he actually thought I had dis- posed of evidence in a murder case by arranging for Leach to beat Cramer to it, but I suppose a DA has as much right to be a damfool as the people who voted for him.
It was a quarter past six when I left the building and flagged a taxi. By the time it turned into 35th Street I had decided that I wouldn't wait until after dinner to go for Wolfe. He was too darned lazy to live. Since, thanks to me, Hattie had told him that he had already made Cramer eat dirt, he would consider that no matter what happened or didn't happen he could send her a bill for a modest hunk of the forty-two thousand, say five grand, and why should he strain his brain? She was out on bail as a material witness and in no real danger. We had got rid of the contraband. There was no great hurry. Nuts, I decided. He had to be poked. As I mounted the stoop and put my key in the door I was choosing my opening remark from three I had hatched.
But I didn't get to use it. The rack in the hall was so crowded with coats that I had to squeeze mine between two that I recognized-Inspector Cramer's and Saul Panzer's. Cramer's voice was raised in the office, and it was hoarse, as it always was when he was in a huff. As I reached the office door he was saying, '… not just
Rex Stout
to hear you spout! If you've got something let's have it!'
Wolfe, seated behind his desk with his fingers laced at the summit of his middle mound, had sent his eyes to me. 'Ah,' he said. 'Satisfactory. I was concerned.'
Sure he was. The bigger the audience the better when he is staging a scene. Before I headed for my desk I glanced around: Cramer in the red leather chair, Sergeant Stebbins at his right, Paul Hannah and Noel Ferns on chairs facing Wolfe's desk, Raymond Dell and Albert Leach, the T-man, behind them, and Martha Kirk and Hattie Annis on the couch to the left of my desk. Saul Panzer was over by the big globe. As I circled around Leach and Dell, Wolfe was speaking.
'You know quite well I have something, Mr. Cramer, or you wouldn't have come. As I told you on the phone, I had a stroke of luck, but I had invited it; and I knew where to send the invitation. True, I sent it to three addresses-an East Side tenement, a shop on First Avenue, and a building on Bowie Street which housed the theater-but my expectation was centered on the last. When my expectation was realized I was faced with the question whether to notify you or to notify Mr. Leach; and preferring not to choose, I asked you both to come and to bring Miss Kirk, Mr. Dell, Mr. Ferris, and Mr. Hannah. Miss Annis, my client, was here. I thought the first three had a right to be present; as for Mr. Hannah, since he is both a counterfeiter and a mur- derer, you and Mr. Leach will have to decide-'
'That's a lie,' Hannah said, and was rising, but Leach, behind him, grabbed his arm. Hannah jerked, but Leach held on. 'Who the hell are you?' Hannah demanded, and with his free hand Leach got his leather fold from his pocket and flipped it open, and by then Stebbins was there.
'Are you arresting him?' Stebbins said.
'No, are you?' Leach asked.
'Nobody's arresting me,' Hannah said. 'Turn loose of me.'
'Sit down, Hannah,' Cramer growled. He looked at
