“Yes. You would. Of course they wouldn’t examine his ears. You didn’t mention luggage.”
“He had a medium sized suitcase, dark tan cowhide, with brass fastenings and no straps.”
“At all appearances?”
“Yes, sir. Coming and going both.”
“Good. Satisfactory. I think that will do. Take that chair over by the wall.”
Wolfe surveyed the faces, and though he had kept their attention with his speech on cookery, he was keeping it better now. You could have heard a pin swishing through the air before it lit. He said, “Now we’re getting somewhere. You understand why I said that such details as Liggett’s mention of Sauce Printemps are no longer of much importance. It is obvious that he treated so fatal a crime as murder with incredible levity, but we should remember two things: first, that he supposed that his absence from Kanawha Spa would never be questioned, and second, he was actually not sentient. He was drugged. He had drunk of the cup which Mrs. Laszio had filled for him. As far as Liggett is concerned, we seem to be done; there appears to be nothing left but for Mr. Tolman to arrest him, prepare the case, try him, and convict him. Have you any remarks on that, Mr. Liggett? I wouldn’t advise any.”
“I’m not saying anything.” Liggett’s voice was as good as ever. “Except that if Tolman swallows this and acts on it the way you’ve framed it, he’ll be damn near as sorry as you’re going to be.” Liggett’s chin went up a little. “I know you, Wolfe. I’ve heard about you. God knows why you’ve picked on me for this, but I’m going to know before I get through with you.”
Wolfe gravely inclined his head. “Your only possible attitude. Of course. But I’m through with you, sir. I turn you over. Your biggest mistake was shooting at me. when I had become merely a bystander. Look here.” He reached in his pocket and pulled out the script and unfolded it. “That’s where your bullet went, right through my speech, before it struck me.-Mr. Tolman, do you have women on murder juries in your state?”
“No. Men only.”
“Indeed.” Wolfe directed his gaze at Mrs. Laszio; he hadn’t looked at her since beginning on Liggett. “That’s a piece of luck for you, madam. It’ll be a job to persuade twelve men to pronounce your doom.” Back to Tolman: “Are you prepared to charge Liggett with the murder of Laszio?”
Tolman’s voice was clear: “I am.”
“Well, sir? You didn’t hesitate with Mr. Berin.”
Tolman got up. He had only four paces to walk. He put his hand on Liggett’s shoulder and said in a loud tone, “I arrest you, Raymond Liggett. A formal charge of murder will be laid to-morrow morning.” He turned and spoke sharply to Moulton: “The sheriff is out front. Tell him to come in.”
Liggett twisted his head around to get Tolman’s eye. “This will ruin you, young man.”
Wolfe, stopping Moulton with a gesture, appealed to Tolman, “Let the sheriff wait a little. If you don’t mind? I don’t like him.” He put his eyes at Mrs. Laszio again. “Besides, madam, we still have you to consider. As far as Liggett is concerned, well… you see…” He moved a hand to indicate Tolman standing at Liggett’s shoulder. “Now about you. You’re not arrested yet. Have you got anything to say?”
The swamp-woman looked sick. I suppose she was good enough at make-up so that ordinarily only an expert would have noticed the extent of it, but it wasn’t calculated to handle emergencies like this. Her face was spotty. Her lower lip didn’t match the upper, on account of having been chewed on. Her shoulders were humped up and her chest pulled in. She said in a thin tone, not her rich swampy voice at all, “I didn’t… only… only what I said, it’s lies. Lies!”
“Do you mean what I’ve said about Liggett is lies? And what Saul Panzer has said? I warn you, madam, things that can be proven are not lies. You say lies. What?”
“It’s all lies… about me.”
“And about Liggett?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“Indeed. But about you. You did turn on the radio. Didn’t you?”
She nodded without speaking. Wolfe snapped. “Didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
“And whether by accident or design, you did detain Vukcic and dance with him while your husband was being murdered?”
“Yes.”
“And Tuesday evening after dinner you were absent from the gathering here nearly an hour?”
“Yes.”
“And since your husband is dead… if it were not for the unfortunate circumstance that Liggett will soon be dead too, you would expect to marry him, wouldn’t you?”
“I…” Her mouth twisted. “No! You can’t say… no!”
“Please, Mrs. Laszio. Keep your nerve. You need it.” Wolfe’s tone suddenly got gentle. “I don’t want to bully you. I am perfectly aware that as regards you the facts permit of two vastly different constructions. One something like this: You and Mr. Liggett wanted each other-at least he wanted you, and you wanted his name and position and wealth. But your husband was the sort of man who hangs on to his possessions, and that made it difficult. The time finally arrived when the desire was so great, and the obstacle so stubborn, that you and Liggett decided on a desperate course. It appeared that the meeting of Les Quinze Maitres offered a good opportunity for the removal of your husband, for there would be three persons present who hated him-plenty of targets for suspicion. So Liggett came to Charleston by airplane and on here by car, and met you somewhere outside, as previously arranged, at half past nine Tuesday evening. It was only then that the arrangements were perfected in detail, for Liggett could not previously have known about the wager between Servan and Keith and the test of
