Rowan left there Tuesday afternoon. Especially if it was late in the afternoon, say approaching six o’clock- Did you wish to say something, Miss Rowan?”
“No,” Lily said. She was gawking at him incredulously.
“Very well. Of course you may have left the Ritz at any time during the afternoon, I realize that. But other inquiries can be made. Whether, for instance, Miss Amory received a phone call at her office that afternoon. Whether the bell of any of the tenants at 316 Barnum Street rang between 5:30 and 5:45. Whether-”
“My God,” Lily said. “You actually did guess it!”
“Indeed,” Wolfe said quietly. His eyes had a glint in them. “Then you might as well save us the trouble. What time did you leave the Ritz on Tuesday?”
“A little before six. About a quarter to. You know, if I was as smart as you are-”
“Thank you. And came straight here?”
“Yes.”
Wolfe grunted and turned his head. “Sergeant? Over here. There’s your man. Roy Douglas. You can arrest him for the murder of Ann Amory.”
We all moved, to stare at Roy, but he didn’t because he was frozen. He sat stiff, rigid, gaping at Wolfe.
“Hold it, Stebbins,” Cramer growled. He moved alongside Roy and kept his eyes on him, but spoke to Wolfe. “We don’t charge men with murder just on your say-so, Wolfe. Suppose you fill it in.”
“My dear sir,” Wolfe said petulantly. “Isn’t it obvious? Miss Rowan just said she left the Ritz at 5:45 Tuesday and came straight here. Therefore she didn’t
“You go to the devil,” Lily told him. “I only said that to get him to let me in, I didn’t know anyone else was there, I wanted him to come and have a drink, and then the way he took it, it went over so big-”
“She must have gone to Barnum Street,” Cramer insisted doggedly. “She described it to Goodwin, the body there on the floor propped against a chair with a scarf around her neck-”
“I didn’t do it!” Roy whined. He was trying to stand up, but Cramer had a hand on his shoulder. “I tell you I didn’t do it! I tell you I didn’t-”
“I’m not going to tolerate much of that,” Wolfe said grimly.
Cramer held Roy down in the chair. Roy was starting to tremble. Cramer was going on, “How the hell could she describe it if she hadn’t seen it-” He chopped it off. “Oh, I’ll be damned!”
“Certainly,” Wolfe said impatiently. “That’s the point. She described it, and he heard her. It was good news for him, the best possible news, since it ended his fear that Miss Amory would disclose her knowledge that he had murdered Mrs. Leeds, but naturally he was startled, and had no idea who had done the job for him.”
“I didn’t!” Roy was whining. “I didn’t do it-”
“Shut up!” Cramer barked at him.
“So,” Wolfe went on, “he dashed down there as fast as he could, and was disconcerted to find that Miss Amory was not quite dead enough. Not, of course, dead at all. Alive and well. His mortification turned him into an imbecile. He conceived the silliest idea in the history of crime. He strangled her with a scarf and propped her up against a chair, the idea being that since Miss Rowan had already described the scene as he arranged it, he had an alibi that could not be broken. I don’t know when he realized how idiotic that was; anyway, when it was done it was done, and Archie arrived so promptly that he had no time to realize anything.”
“I didn’t-” Roy was trembling all over, and trying to squirm out of Cramer’s grasp, but Stebbins had his other shoulder and was getting out handcuffs for him.
Wolfe grimaced and went on. “Of course, instead of saving him, his gambit condemns him. Since it can be proven that Miss Amory left her office after five o’clock, and that Miss Rowan left the Ritz at 5:45 and arrived here ten minutes later, Miss Rowan couldn’t possibly have seen what she said she did at Miss Amory’s apartment, and therefore her description of that scene was an invention. Also Miss Rowan will herself testify to that; she’ll have to. But since the scene actually was as she described it, the inexorable conclusion is that it was staged by someone who heard her describe it. That alone will convict him.”
I started to say something, but found I had no voice. I cleared my throat and got it out, “I heard her describe it too, you know.”
“Pfui.” Wolfe was scornful. “With all your defects, Archie, you are neither a strangler nor a nincompoop.” He wiggled a finger at Cramer. “Get that wretch out of here.”
Chapter 13
An hour later, around half past seven, Wolfe and I were alone in the office. He was behind his desk, with the atlas opened at the map of Australia, and every now and then he lifted his head to sniff. The turkey was broiling in the kitchen.
I reached for the phone and tried again, the third time, for Colonel Ryder at Governor’s Island. He wasn’t there but was expected back any minute.
