concentrating on Degan, and Lesser gave no warning. He just lunged, right across Saul’s knees, either to grab Degan or hit him, or maybe both. By the time I got there Saul had his coattail, jerking him off, Degan was sitting on the floor, and Purley Stebbins was on the way. But Purley, who has his points, wasn’t interested in Lesser, leaving him to Saul. He got his big paws on Degan’s arm, helped him up, and helped him down again onto the chair, while Saul and I bulldozed Lesser to the couch. When we were placed again it was an improvement: Stebbins on one side of Degan and Saul on the other, and Lesser on the sidelines. Cramer, who had stood to watch the operation, sat down.
Wolfe resumed. “I was saying, Mr. Degan, that I don’t know whether you searched her apartment for the records, but naturally-Did he, Mr. Cramer?”
“Someone did,” Cramer growled. “Good. I’m stopping this right here. I want to see those records and I want to know how you got them.”
Wolfe looked at the wall clock. “I still have thirty-eight minutes of my hour. If you interpose authority of course you have it. But I have your word. Is it garbage?”
Cramer’s face got redder, and his jaw worked. “Go ahead.”
“I should think so.” Wolfe returned to Degan. “You did search, naturally, without success. You weren’t looking for something as small as a key, but even if you had been you still wouldn’t have found it, for it was destined for me. How it reached me is a detail Mr. Cramer may discuss with me later if he still thinks it worth while; all that concerns you is that I received it, and sent Mr. Panzer with it to Grand Central, and he returned with the suitcase. From it I got the sheaf of papers now in my drawer. I was inspecting them when Mr. Cramer phoned me shortly after six o’clock, and I arranged with him for this meeting. That’s all, Mr. Degan.”
Wolfe’s eyes went left, and his voice lifted and sharpened. “Now for you, Mrs. Irwin. I wonder if you know how deep your hole is?”
“Don’t say anything, Fanny.” Irwin stood up. “We’re going. Come on, Fanny.” He took her shoulder and she came up to her feet.
“I think not,” Wolfe said. “I quote Mr. Cramer: ‘As it stands now, you can walk out whenever you feel like it.’ But the standing has been altered. Archie, to the door. Mr. Cramer, I’ll use restraint if necessary.”
Cramer didn’t hesitate. He was gruff. “I think you’d better stay and hear it out, Mr. Irwin.”
“I refuse to, Inspector. I’m not going to sit here while he insults and bullies my wife.”
“Then you can stand. Stay at the door, Goodwin. No one leaves this room until I say so. That’s official. All right, Wolfe. God help you if you haven’t got it.”
Wolfe looked at her. “You might as well sit down, Mrs. Irwin. That’s better. You already know most of what I’m going to tell you, perhaps all. Last Wednesday evening a man named Keems, in my employ, called at your apartment and spoke with you and your husband. You were leaving for a party and cut the interview short. Keems left the building with you, but soon he went back to your apartment and talked with your maid, Ella Reyes, and gave her a hundred dollars in cash. In return she gave him information. She told him that on January third you complained of no headache until late in the afternoon, immediately after you received a phone call from Patrick Degan. She may even-”
“That isn’t true.” Fanny Irwin had to squeeze it out.
“If you mean she didn’t tell him that, I admit I can’t prove it, since Johnny Keems and Ella Reyes are both dead. If you mean that didn’t happen, I don’t believe you. She may even have also told him that she heard the phone conversation on an extension, and that Mr. Degan told you to withdraw from the theater party that evening, giving a headache as an excuse, and to suggest that Mrs. Molloy be invited in your stead.”
“You know what you’re saying,” Jerome Arkoff said darkly.
“I do,” Wolfe told Mrs. Irwin, not him. “I am charging you with complicity in the murder of Michael Molloy, and, by extension, of Johnny Keems and Ella Reyes and Delia Brandt. With that information from your maid, Keems, ignoring the instructions I had given him, sought out Degan. Degan, seeing that he was in great and imminent peril, acted promptly and effectively. On some pretext, probably of taking Keems to interview some other person, he had Keems wait for him at a place not frequented at that time of night while he went for his car; and instead of going for his car he stole one, drove it to the appointed place, and killed Keems with it.”
Wolfe’s head moved. “Do you wish to challenge that detail, Mr. Degan? Have you an alibi for that night?”
“I’m listening,” Degan said, louder than necessary. “And don’t forget others are listening too.”
“I won’t.” Wolfe returned to Fanny Irwin. “But Degan had learned from Keems the source of his information, and Ella Reyes was almost as great a menace as Keems had been. Whether he communicated with her directly or through you, I don’t know. He arranged to meet her, and killed her, and put the body where it was not found until somewhat later, taking her handbag to delay identification. By then he was no better than a maniac, and when, two or three days afterward, he was confronted with still another threat, this time from Delia Brandt, qualms, either of conscience or of trepidation, bothered him not at all. But I wonder about you. You felt no qualms? You feel none?”
“Don’t say anything,” her husband told her. He had her hand.
“I’m not sure that’s good advice,” Wolfe said. “There are certainly people present who would question it. If you’ll turn your head, madam, to your right and rear, there by the big globe-the man on the left and the woman beside him-they are the parents of Peter Hays, who has been convicted of a murder you helped to commit. The other man is also deeply interested; he is Peter Hays’s counsel. Now if you’ll turn your head the other way. The man on the couch, who lost control of himself a few minutes ago, is-or was-the fiance of Delia Brandt. They were to be married-tomorrow, Mr. Lesser?”
No reply.
Wolfe didn’t press him. “And standing at the door is Archie Goodwin, and on Mr. Degan’s left is Saul Panzer. They were friends and colleagues of Johnny Keems-and I myself knew Keems for some years and had esteem for him. I’m sorry I can’t present to you any of the friends or family of Ella Reyes; you knew her better than anyone else here.”
“What the hell good does this do?” Jerome Arkoff demanded.
