“A man that was with us.”
“His name?”
“His name is Ralph Ingalls.”
“Was Guy Unger Miss Weltz’s companion, or yours?”
“Why, we-we were just together.”
“Nonsense. Two men and two women are never just together. How were you paired?”
“Well-Guy and Helen, and Ralph and me.”
Wolfe sent a glance at the chair he had vacated and apparently decided it wasn’t worth the trouble of walking back to it. “Then since Miss Willis died Mr. Unger’s interest has centered on Miss Weltz?”
“I don’t know about ‘centered.’ They seem to like each other, as far as I know.”
“How long have you been working here?”
“At this office, since it opened a year ago. Before that I was at the Trafalgar office for two years.”
“When did Miss Willis tell you she was going to tell Robina Keane of her husband’s proposal?”
She had expected that one too. “That morning. That Thursday, the fifteenth of July.”
“Did you approve?”
“No, I didn’t. I thought she ought to just tell him no and forget it. I told her she was asking for trouble and she might get it. But she was so daddled on Robina Keane-” Bella shrugged. “Do you want to sit down?”
“No, thank you. Where is Miss Weltz?”
“This is her day off.”
“I know. Where can I find her?”
She opened her mouth and closed it. She opened it again. “I’m not sure. Wait a minute,” she said, and went clicking down the hall to the front. It was more like two minutes when she came clicking back and reported, “Miss Hart thinks she’s at a little place she rented for the summer up in Westchester. Do you want me to phone and find out?”
“Yes, if you would.”
Off she went, and we followed. In the front room the other three were at the boards. While Bella Velardi spoke to Miss Hart, and Miss Hart went to the phone at the desk and got a number and talked, Wolfe stood and frowned around, at the windows, the boards, the phone answerers, and me. When Miss Hart told him Helen Weltz was on the wire he went to the desk and took it.
“Miss Weltz? This is Nero Wolfe. As Miss Hart told you, I’m looking into certain matters connected with the murder of Marie Willis, and would like to see you. I have some other appointments but can adjust them. How long will it take you to get to the city?… You can’t?… I’m afraid I can’t wait until tomorrow… No, that’s out of the question… I see. You’ll be there all afternoon?… Very well, I’ll do that.”
He hung up and asked Miss Hart to tell me how to get to the place in Westchester. She obliged, and beyond Katonah it got so complicated that I got out my notebook. Also I jotted down the phone number. Wolfe had marched out with no amenities, so I thanked her politely and caught up with him halfway down the stairs. When we were out on the sidewalk I inquired, “A taxi to Katonah?”
“No.” He was cold with rage. “To the garage for the car.”
We headed west.
III
AS WE STOOD INSIDE the garage, on Thirty-sixth Street near Tenth Avenue, waiting for Pete to bring the car down, Wolfe came out with something I had been expecting.
“We could walk home,” he said, “in four minutes.”
I gave him a grin. “Yes, sir. I knew it was coming- while you were on the phone. To go to Katonah we would have to drive. To drive we would have to get the car. To get the car we would have to come to the garage. The garage is so close to home that we might as well go and have lunch first. Once in the house, with the door bolted and not answering the phone, we could reconsider the matter of driving to Westchester. So you told her we would go to Katonah.”
“No. It occurred to me in the cab.”
“I can’t prove it didn’t. But I have a suggestion.” I nodded at the door to the garage office. “There’s a phone in there. Call Fritz first. Or shall I?”
“I suppose so,” he muttered, and went to the office door and entered, sat at the desk, and dialed. In a moment he was telling Fritz who and where he was, asking some questions, and getting answers he didn’t like. After instructing Fritz to tell callers that he hadn’t heard from us and had no idea where we were, and telling him not to expect us home until we got there, he hung up, glared at the phone, and then glared at me.
