“I’m listening,” Kates said.
“I know you are. Why?”
“Because, if I don’t, the inference will be made that I’m frightened, and the further inference will be made that I am guilty of something that I am trying to conceal.”
“Good. Then we understand each other.” Wolfe sounded as if he were grateful for a major concession. With casual unhurried movement he brought the scarf out from beneath the rim of the desk, where he had been holding it in his hand, and put it down on the blotter. Then he cocked his head at Kates as if trying to decide where to begin. From where I sat, having Kates’s profile, I couldn’t tell whether he even gave the scarf a glance. Certainly he didn’t turn pale or exhibit any hand-clenching or tremors of the limbs.
“On the two occasions,” Wolfe said, “that Mr. Goodwin went to Fifty-fifth Street to see Miss Gunther, you were there. Were you a close friend of hers?”
“Not a close personal friend, no. In the past six months, since I’ve been doing confidential research directly under Mr. Boone, I’ve seen her frequently in connection with the work.”
“Yet she was staying in your apartment.”
Kates looked at Cramer. “You people have gone over this with me a dozen times.”
Cramer nodded. “That’s the way it goes, son. This’ll make thirteen.”
Kates returned to Wolfe. “The present housing shortage makes it extremely difficult, and often impossible, to get a room in a hotel. Miss Gunther could have used her position and connections to get a room, but that is against BPR policy, and also she didn’t do things like that. A bed in a friend’s apartment was available to me, and my wife was away. I offered the use of my apartment to Miss Gunther coming up on the plane from Washington, and she accepted.”
“Had she ever stayed there before?”
“No.”
“You had seen her frequently for six months. What did you think of her?”
“I thought well of her.”
“Did you admire her?”
“Yes. As a colleague.”
“Did she dress well?”
“I never noticed particularly-no, that isn’t true.” Kates’s voice zoomed for a squeak again and he used the controls. “If you think these questions are important and you want full and truthful answers. Considering Miss Gunther’s striking appearance and her voluptuous figure, I thought she dressed extremely well for one in her position.”
If Phoebe was here, I thought, she’d tell him he talks like an old-fashioned novel.
“Then,” Wolfe said, “you did notice what she wore. In that case, when did you last see her wearing this scarf?” He used a thumb to indicate it.
Kates leaned forward to look at it. “I don’t remember ever seeing her wear that. I never did.” He settled back.
“That’s strange.” Wolfe was frowning. “This is important, Mr. Kates. Are you sure?”
Kates leaned forward again, saying, “Let me see it,” and reached a hand for it.
Wolfe’s hand was there before his, closing on it. “No,” Wolfe said, “this will be an exhibit in a murder trial and therefore should not be handled indiscriminately.” He stretched an arm to give Kates a closer look. Kates peered at it a moment, then leaned back and shook his head.
“I’ve never seen it before,” he declared. “On Miss Gunther or anybody else.”
“That’s a disappointment,” Wolfe said regretfully. “However, it doesn’t exhaust the possibilities. You might have seen it before and now not recognize it because your previous view of it was in a dim light, for instance on the stoop of this house at night. I suggest that for your consideration, because clinging to this scarf are many tiny particles which came from the piece of pipe, showing that the scarf was used as a protection in clutching the pipe, and also because the scarf was found in the pocket of your overcoat.”
Kates blinked at him. “Whose overcoat?”
“Yours. Get it, Archie.” I went for it, and stood beside Kates, holding it by the collar, hanging full length. Wolfe asked, “That’s your coat, isn’t it?”
Kates sat and stared at the coat. Then he arose, turned his back on Wolfe, and called at the top of his voice, “Mr. Dexter!
“Cut it out.” Cramer was up and had him by the arm on the other side. “Cut out the yelling! What do you want Dexter for?”
“Then get him in here. If you want me to stop yelling, get him in here.” Kates’s voice was trembling. “I told him something like this would happen! I told Phoebe to have nothing to do with Nero Wolfe! I told her not to come here tonight! I-”
Cramer pounced. “When did you tell her not to come here tonight? When?”
Kates didn’t answer. He realized his arm was being gripped, looked down at Cramer’s hand gripping it, and said, “Let go of me. Let go!” Cramer did so. Kates walked across to a chair against the wall, sat on it, and clamped his jaw. He was breaking off relations.
I said to Cramer, “If you want it, I was there when Rowcliffe was questioning him. He said he was at his friend’s apartment on Eleventh Street, where he’s staying, and Miss Gunther phoned to say she had just been told to come here and wanted to know if he had been told too, and he said yes but he wasn’t coming and he tried
