Wolfe, who had approached him, shook his head. 'I don't think so,' he said conversationally. 'We had a key. I admit that Mr. Goodwin's flourishing a gun complicates matters, but anyway, all I want is a talk with you people. I asked for it this afternoon and was refused. Now I intend to have it.'
'You won't get it.' Pitcairn's eyes went to his son. 'Donald, go to the front door and call the officer.'
'I'm still flourishing the gun,' I said, doing so. 'I can use it either to slap with or shoot with, and if I didn't intend to when necessary I wouldn't have it.'
'More corn,' Sybil said scornfully. She hadn't moved from her comfortable position against the cushions. 'Do you actually expect us to sit here and converse with you at the point of a gun?'
'No,' Wolfe told her. 'The gun is childish, of course. That was merely a formality. I expect you to converse with me for reasons which it will take a few minutes to explain. May I sit down?'
Father, daughter, and son said 'No' simultaneously.
Wolfe went to a wide upholstered number and sat. 'I must overrule you,' he said, 'because this is an emergency. I had to wade your confounded brook.' He bent over and unlaced a shoe and pulled it off, did likewise with the other one, took off his socks, pulled his wet trousers up nearly to his knees, and then leaned to the right to get hold of the corner of a small rug.
'I'm afraid I've dripped a little,' he apologized, wrapping the rug around his feet and calves.
'Wonderful,' Sybil said appreciatively. 'You think we won't drive you out into the snow barefooted.'
'Then he's wrong,' Pitcairn said furiously. His squeak was all gone.
'I'll get him a drink,' Donald offered, moving.
'No,' I said firmly, also moving. 'You'll stay right here.' I still had the formality in my right hand.
'I think, Archie,' Wolfe told me, 'you can put that thing in your pocket. We'll soon know whether we stay or go.' He glanced around at them, ending with Joseph G. 'Here are your alternatives. Either we remain here until we are ready to leave, and are allowed a free hand for our inquiry into the murder of Miss Lauer on these premises, or I go, return to my office in New York -'
'No, you don't,' Pitcairn contradicted. He remained standing even after his guest was seated. 'You go to jail.'
Wolfe nodded. 'If you insist, certainly. But that will merely postpone my return to my office until I get bail, which won't take long. Once there, I act. I announce that I am convinced of Mr. Krasicki's innocence and that I intend to get him freed by finding and exposing the culprit. There are at least three papers that will consider that newsworthy and will want to help. All the inmates of this house will become legitimate objects of inquiry and public report. Anything in their past that could conceivably have a bearing on their guilt or innocence will be of interest and printable.'
'Aha,' Sybil said disdainfully, still reclining.
'The devil of it,' Wolfe went on, ignoring her, 'is that everyone has a past. Take this case. Take the question of Mr. Hefferan's purchase of a home and acres surrounding it, only a few miles from here. I'm sure you remember the name – Hefferan. Where did he get the money? Where did a certain member of his family go to, and why? The newspapers will want all the facts they can get, all the more since their employees are not permitted to enter these grounds. I shall be glad to cooperate, and I have had some experience at investigation.'
Joseph G. had advanced a step and then stiffened. Sybil had left the cushions to sit up straight.
'Such facts,' Wolfe went on, 'would of course never properly get to a jury trying a man for the murder of Miss Lauer, but they would be of valid concern to the unofficial explorers of probabilities, and the public would like to know about them. They would like to know whether Miss Florence Hefferan still feels any discomfort from the severe choking she got, and whether the marks have entirely disappeared from her throat. They would want to see pictures of her in newspapers, the more the better. They would -'
'You filthy fat louse!' Sybil cried.
Wolfe shook his head at her. 'Not I, Miss Pitcairn. This is the inexorable miasma of murder.'
'By God,' Pitcairn said harshly. He was shaking with fury and trying not to. 'I wish I had shot you there today. I wish I had.'
'But you didn't,' Wolfe said curtly, 'and here I am. You will have no secrets left, none of you. If Miss Hefferan has run through the money you paid her and needs more, there will be generous bidders for the story of her life in installments. You see the possibilities. There will even be interest in such details as your daughter's incorrigible talent for picking quarrels, and your son's nomadic collegiate career. Did he leave Yale and Williams and Cornell because the curriculum didn't suit him, or because -'
Without the slightest warning Donald abruptly changed moods. After bouncing up to offer to get Wolfe a drink he had returned to his chair and seemed to be put, but now he came out of it fast and made for Wolfe. I had to step some to head him off. He came against me, recoiled, and started a right for the neighborhood of my jaw. The quicker it was settled the better, so instead of trying anything fancy I knocked his fist down with my left, and with my right slammed the gun flat against his kidney good and hard. He wobbled, then bent, and doubled up to sit on the floor. I disregarded him to face the others, not at all sure of their limitations.
'Stop!' a voice came from somewhere. 'Stop it!'
Their eyes left the casualty to turn to the voice. A woman had come from behind some drapes at the side of a wide arch at the far end of the room, and was approaching with slow careful steps. Sybil let out a cry and rushed to her. Joseph G. went too. They got to the newcomer and each took an arm, both talking at once, one scolding and the other remonstrating. They wanted to know how she got downstairs. They wanted to turn her around, but nothing doing. She kept coming, them with her, until she was only a step away from her son, who was still sitting on the floor. She looked down at him and then turned to me.
