Plot It Yourself

“In a phone booth in a drugstore. At twelve forty-nine the subject’s car came out of the dirt road and turned left on the blacktop. I followed. She went to the Taconic State Parkway, no stops, and headed south. At Hawthorne Circle she took the Saw Mill River. I nearly lost her twice but got her again. She left the West Side Highway at Nineteenth Street. She put her car in a parking lot on Christopher Street and walked here, five blocks. I found a space at the kerb.”

“Where is here?”

“This drugstore is at the corner of Arbor Street and Bailey Street. She went in the vestibule at Forty- two Arbor Street and pushed a button, and waited half a minute, and opened the door and entered. That was eight minutes ago. I can’t see the entrance from the booth, so if you want-”

“Did you say Forty-two?”

“Yes.”

“Hold it.” I turned to Wolfe. “Amy Wynn lives at Forty-two Arbor Street.”

“Indeed. This is Nero Wolfe, Miss Bonner. Can you see the entrance from where your car is parked?”

“Yes.”

“Then go to your car. If she comes out, follow her. Mr Goodwin will join you if you’re still there when he arrives. Satisfactory?”

We hung up. We looked at each other. “Nonsense,” Wolfe growled.

“Close to it,” I agreed. “But it’s possible. You told them Wednesday that it could be that one of them was it. If I had voted, Amy Wynn wouldn’t have been my choice, but it’s possible. Simon Jacobs was no athlete. If she had him in a car she could have sunk a knife in him. Certainly Jane Ogilvy would have been no problem. And for Alice Porter she has a double motive-not only to keep her from blabbing the Ellen Sturdevant operation but also to settle the claim Alice Porter has made against her. That’s one way to settle a claim out of court. I wouldn’t think she would pick her own apartment as the best place for it, but you said she was close to panic- only you said ‘he.’ Also she might have some original and nifty plan for getting rid of a body. She or he is quite a planner, you can’t deny that. I could go and drop in on her and say I’m making the rounds of the committee members, to ask them not to fire you. If I was too late to save Alice Porter’s life I would at least be in time to interfere with her body-disposal plan.”

“Pfui.”

“Cramer won’t think it’s phooey if Alice Porter is number three, another homicide in his jurisdiction, and he learns that you had Dol Bonner there in a car with her eye on the door. Your crack about closing your office permanently may turn out-”

The phone rang, and I got it. It was Reuben Imhof. He asked for Wolfe, and Wolfe got on.

“Something interesting,” Imhof said. “I just had a phone call from Amy Wynn. Alice Porter rang her this morning and said she wanted to come and see her. If Miss Wynn had told me about it, I would probably have advised her not to see her, but she didn’t. Anyway, Alice Porter is there with her now, in her apartment. She offers to settle her claim for twenty thousand dollars cash. Miss Wynn wants to know if I think she should accept the offer. I told her no. It looks to me as if the two murders have got Alice Porter scared. She suspects they were committed by the man who got her to make the claim on Ellen Sturdevant, and if he’s caught he may talk, and she’ll be sunk, and she wants to get what she can quick and clear out. What do you think?”

“You are probably correct. My offhand opinion.”

“Yes. That’s the way it looks. But after I hung up I wasn’t so sure I had given Miss Wynn good advice. Alice Porter would probably take half the amount she named, even less. If Miss Wynn can get a general release for, say, five thousand dollars perhaps that’s what she ought to do. If she doesn’t she may eventually have to pay ten times that, or more. On the other hand, if you or the police get the man you’re after and rip it open, she won’t have to pay anything. So I’m asking you. Shall I call Miss Wynn and advise her to make a deal if she can get one for ten thousand or less, or not?”

Wolfe grunted. “You can’t expect me to answer that. Miss Wynn is not my client, and neither are you. As a member of the committee you may ask me if I expect to expose that swindler and murderer.”

“All right, I do.”

“The answer is yes. Soon or late, he is doomed.”

“That suits me. Then I won’t call her.”

Wolfe cradled the phone and gave me a look, with a corner of his mouth slanting up.

“Okay.” I left my chair. “I only said it was possible. Would it be a good idea for me to help Dol Bonner tail her back to Carmel?”

“No.”

“Any special instructions for Miss Bonner?”

“No. Presumably she will find Miss Corbett at her post.”

I beat it.

Chapter 13

Forty-two hours later, at nine o’clock Sunday morning, as I put down my empty coffee cup, thanked Fritz for the meal, and headed for the office, I told myself aloud, “What a hell of a way to spend a Memorial Day weekend.” I had been invited to the country. I had been invited to a boat in the Sound. I had been invited to accompany a friend to Yankee Stadium that afternoon. And here I was. The only reason I was up and dressed was that the phone had roused me at twenty to eight, Fred calling to say that he was on his way to relieve Saul; and half an hour later Saul had reported that Alice Porter slept late on Sunday, which was the most exciting piece of news I had heard for quite a while. On Friday, tailed by Dol Bonner, she had driven from Arbor Street straight back