women on the other, he wouldn't know which was which. With clothes on I suppose he can tell. Not that he's dumb, I doubt if he's a bit dumb, but his mind is somewhere else. You asked if he has complexes -'
There was a knock at the door. I went and opened it and took a look, and said, 'Come in.'
Donald Pitcairn entered.
I had surveyed him before, but now I had more to go on and I checked. He didn't look particularly sensitive, though of course I didn't know which mood he had on. He had about the same weight and volume as me, but it's no flattery to say that he didn't carry them the same. He needed tuning. He had dark deep-set eyes, and his face wouldn't have been bad at all if he had felt better about it.
'Oh, you here, Gus?' he asked, which wasn't too bright.
'Yeah, I'm here,' Gus replied, getting that settled.
Donald, blinking in the light, turned to Wolfe. His idea was to make it curt. 'We wondered why it took so long to pack Andy's things. That's what you said you wanted to do, but it doesn't look as if you're doing it.'
'We were interrupted,' Wolfe told him.
'I see you were. Don't you think it would be a good idea to go ahead and pack and get started?'
'I do, yes. We'll get at it shortly. I'm glad you came, Mr. Pitcairn, because it provides an opportunity for a little chat. Of course you are under -'
'I don't feel like chatting,' Donald said apologetically, and turned and left.
The door closed behind him and we heard his steps across the porch.
'See?' Gus demanded. 'That's him to a T. Papa told him to come and chase you out, and did you hear him?'
'Yes, I heard him. With sensitive people you never know.' Wolfe sighed. 'We'd better get on, since I want to get back to the house before Mr. Pitcairn decides to come at us himself. What about him? Not what he's like, I've seen him and spoken with him, but the record – what you know of it. I got the impression this afternoon that he does not share his son's confusion about the sexes. He can tell a woman from a man?'
'I'll say he can.' Gus laughed shortly. 'With his eyes shut. From a mile off.'
'You say that as if you could prove it.'
Gus had his mouth open to go on, but he shut it. He cocked an eye at Wolfe, tossed me a glance, and regarded Wolfe again.
'Oh,' he said. 'Now you want me to prove things.'
'Not at all. I don't even insist on facts. I'll take surmises – anything you have.'
Gus was considering, rubbing the tips of his thumbs with his forefingers and scowling again. Finally he made a brusque gesture. 'To hell with it,' he decided. 'I was sore at you for crossing Andy, and you don't owe him anything, and here look at me. There's other jobs. He choked a girl once.'
'Mr. Pitcairn did?'
'Yes.'
'Choked her to death?'
'Oh, no, just choked her. Her name's Florence Hefferan. Her folks used to live in a shack over on Greasy Hill, but now they've got a nice house and thirty acres down in the valley. I don't think it was Florence that used the pliers on him, or if she did her old man made her. I know for a fact it took twenty-one thousand dollars to get that thirty acres, and also Florence was by no means broke when she beat it to New York. If it didn't come from Pitcairn, then where? There are two versions about the choking. One is that he was nuts about her and he was jealous because he thought the baby she was going to have wasn't his – that's what Florence told her best friend, who is a friend of mine. The other is that he was sore because he was being forced to deliver some real dough – that came from Florence too, later, after she had gone to New York, I guess because she thought it sounded better. Anyhow I know he choked her enough to leave marks because I saw them.'
'Well.' Wolfe was looking as pleased as if someone had just presented him with thirty acres of orchids. 'When did this happen?'
'About two years ago.'
'Do you know where Miss Hefferan is now?'
'Sure, I can get her address in New York.'
'Good.' Wolfe wiggled a finger. 'I said I wouldn't insist on proof, and I won't, but how much of this is fact and how much gossip?'
'No gossip at all. It's straight fact.'
'Has any of it ever been published? For instance, in a newspaper reporting a proceeding in a court?'
Gus shook his head. 'It wasn't in a court. How would it get in a court when he paid forty or fifty thousand to keep it out?'
'Just so, but I wanted to be sure. Were these facts generally known and discussed in the neighborhood?'
'Well – not known, no.' Gus gestured. 'Of course there was some talk, but only two or three really knew what happened, and I happened to be one of them because of my friend being Florence's best friend. And I didn't help start any talking. I've never opened my trap about it until now, and I told you only to help Andy, but damned if I see how it's going to.'
