“Getting there,” I told her. “Gold does it to you. Did you see that movie, Treasure of Sierra Madre?” “Damn you.” She clamped her jaw, held it a moment, and released it. “Damn you, I think you broke my arm.” “Then your bones must be chalk. I barely tapped it. Anyway, you nearly broke my back.” I made my voice reasonable. “There's too much suspicion in this world.
I'll agree not to suspect you of meaning to bump me if you'll agree not to suspect me of meaning to tap your arm. Why don't we move off these rocks and sit on the grass and talk it over? Your eyes are simply beautiful. We could start from there.” She pulled her feet in, put a hand-not the one that had reached for my stone-on a rock for leverage, got to her feet, stepped carefully across the rocks to the grass, climbed the bank, and was gone.
My right elbow hurt, and my left hip. I didn't care for that, but there were other aspects of the situation that I liked even less. Counting the helps, there were six or seven men in and around the house, and if Connie told them a tale that brought them all down to the brook it might get embarrassing. She had done enough harm as it was, making me drop my stone. I stooped and lifted it with my fingertips again, got clear of the rocks and negotiated the bank, walked down the drive and on out to the car, and made room for the stone in the medicine case, wedged so it wouldn't roll around.
I didn't stop for lunch in Westchester County either. I took to the parkways and kept going. I didn't feel really elated, since I might have got merely a stray hunk of granite, not Exhibit A at all, and I didn't intend to start crowing unless and until. So when I left the West Side Highway at Forty-sixth Street, as usual, I drove first to an old brick building in the upper Thirties near Ninth Avenue. There I delivered the stone to a Mr Weinbach, who promised they would do their best. Then I drove home, went in and found Fritz in the kitchen, ate four sandwiches-two sturgeon and two home-baked ham-and drank a quart of milk.
CHAPTER Eighteen
When I swallowed the last of the milk it wasn't five o'clock yet, and it would be more than an hour before Wolfe came down from the plant rooms, which was just as well since I needed to take time for an overhaul In my room up on the third floor I stripped. There was a long scrape on my left knee and a promising bruise on my left hip, and a square inch of skin was missing from my right elbow. The scratch on my cheek was developing nicely, getting new ideas about colour every hour. Of course it might have been worse, at least nobody had run a car over me; but I was beginning to feel that it would be a welcome change to take on an enemy my own sex and size. I certainly wasn't doing so well with women. In addition to the damage to my hide, my best Palm Beach suit was ruined, with a big tear in the sleeve of the coat I showered, iodined, bandaged, dressed, and went down to the office.
A look in the safe told me that if I was right in supposing that the specialist to be hired was Mr Jones, he hadn't been hired yet, for the fifty grand was still all there. That was a deduction from a limited experience. I had never seen the guy, but I knew two things about him: that it was through him that Wolfe had got the dope on a couple of Commies that had sent them up the river, and that when you bought from him you paid in advance. So either it wasn't to be him or Wolfe hadn't been able to reach him yet.
I had been hoping for a phone call from Weinbach before Wolfe descended at six o'clock, but it didn't come. When Wolfe entered, got seated behind his desk, and said, “Well?” I thought I was still undecided about including the stone in my report before hearing from Weinbach, but he had to know about Connie, so I kept on to the end. I did not, however, tell him that it was a remark of Madeline's that made me think of stones, thinking it might irritate him to know that a woman had helped out.
He sat frowning.
“I was a little surprised,” I said smugly, “that you didn't think of a stone yourself. Doc Vollmer said something rough and heavy.” “Pfui. Certainly I thought of a stone. But if he used a stone all he had to do was walk ten paces to the bridge and toss it into the water.” “That's what he thought. But he missed the water. Lucky I didn't take the attitude you did. If I hadn't-” The phone rang. A voice that hissed its esses was in my ear. Weinbach of the Fisher Laboratories hissed his esses. Not only that, he told me who he was. As I motioned to Wolfe to get on, I was holding my breath.
“That stone you left with me,” Weinbach said. “Do you wish the technical terms?”
“I do not. I only want what I asked for. Is there anything on it to show it was used, or might have been used, to slam a man on the head?” “There is.” “What!” I hadn't really expected it. There is?” “Yes. Everything is dried up, but there are four specks that are bloodstains, five more that may be bloodstains, one minute piece of skin, and two slightly larger pieces of skin. One of the larger pieces has an entire follicle. This is a preliminary report and none of it can be guaranteed. It will take forty-eight hours to complete all the tests.” “Go to it, brother! If I was there I'd kiss you,” “I beg your pardon?” “Forget it. I'll get you a Nobel Prize. Write the report in red ink.” I hung up and turned to Wolfe. “Okay. He was murdered. Connie did. it or knows who did. She knew about the stone. She stalked me. I should have established a personal relationship with her and brought her down here. Do you want her? I'll bet I can get her.” “Good heavens, no.” His brows had gone up. “I must say, Archie, satisfactory.” “Don't strain yourself.” “I won't. But though you used your time well, to the purpose you were sent for, all you got was corroboration. The stone proves that Mr Kane's statement was false, that Mr Rony was killed deliberately, and that one of those people killed him, but there's nothing new in that for us.” “Excuse me,” I said coldly, “for bringing in something that doesn't help.” “I don't say it doesn't help. If and when this gets to a court room, it will unquestionably help there. Tell me again what Mrs Emerson said.” I did so, in a restrained manner. Looking back now, I can see that he was right, but at the time I was damn proud of that stone.
Since it gives the place an unpleasant atmosphere for one of us to be carrying a grudge, I thought it would be better if I got even immediately, and I did so by not eating dinner with him, giving as a reason my recent consumption of sandwiches. He loves to talk when he's eating, business being taboo, so as I sat alone in the office, catching up with the chores, my humour kept getting better, and by the time he rejoined me I was perfectly willing to speak to him-in fact, I had thought up a few comments about the importance of evidence in criminal cases which would have been timely and appropriate.
I had to put off making them because he was still getting himself arranged to his after-dinner position in his chair when the doorbell rang and, Fritz being busy with the dishes, I went to answer it. It was Saul Panzer and Orrie Gather.
I ushered them into the office. Orrie got comfortable, with his legs crossed, and took out a pipe and filled it, while Saul sat erect on the front half of the big red leather chair.
