Trio for Blunt Instruments

when they are asked:

1. When did Kenneth Faber tell you that your daughter was pregnant and he was responsible?

2. Where did you go when you drove away from your farm Tuesday afternoon around two o’clock- perhaps a little later-and returned around seven o’clock, late for milking?

3. Where did you get the piece of pipe? Was it on your premises?

4. Do you know that your daughter saw you leaving the alley Tuesday afternoon? Did you see her?

5. Is it true that the man with the bulldozer told you Monday night that he would have to come Wednesday instead of Thursday?

There are many questions you may be asked; these are only samples. If competent investigators are moved to start inquiries of this nature, you will of course be in a difficult position, and it would be well to anticipate it.

Cramer looked up and aimed beady eyes at Wolfe. “You knew last night that McLeod killed Faber.”

“Not certain knowledge. A reasoned conclusion.”

“You knew he left his farm Tuesday afternoon. You knew his daughter saw him at the alley. You knew-”

“No. Those were conclusions.” Wolfe turned a palm up. “Mr. Cramer. You sat there yesterday morning and read a document sworn to by Mr. Goodwin and me. When you finished it you knew everything that I knew, and I have learned nothing since then. From the knowledge we shared I had concluded that McLeod had killed Faber. You haven’t. Shall I detail it?”

“Yes.”

“First, the corn. I presume McLeod told you, as he did me, that he had Faber pick the corn because he had to dynamite some stumps and rocks.”

“Yes.”

“That seemed to me unlikely. He knows how extremely particular I am, and also the restaurant. We pay him well, more than well; it must be a substantial portion of his income. He knew that young man couldn’t possibly do that job. It must have been something more urgent than stumps and rocks that led him to risk losing such desirable customers. Second, the pipe. It was chiefly on account of the pipe that I wanted to see Mr. Heydt, Mr. Maslow, and Mr. Jay. Any man-”

“When did you see them?”

“They came here Wednesday evening, at Miss McLeod’s request. Any man, sufficiently provoked, might plan to kill, but very few men would choose a massive iron bludgeon for a weapon to carry through the streets. Seeing those three I thought it highly improbable that any of them would. But a countryman might, a man who does rough work with rough and heavy tools.”

“You came to a conclusion on stuff like that?”

“No. Those details were merely corroborative. The conclusive item came from Miss McLeod. You read that document. I asked her-I’ll quote it from memory. I said to her, ‘You know those men quite well. You know their temperaments. If one of them, enraged beyond endurance by Mr. Faber’s conduct, went there and killed him, which one? It wasn’t a sudden fit of passion, it was premeditated and planned. From your knowledge of them, which one?’ How did she answer me?”

“She said, ‘They didn’t.’”

“Yes. Didn’t you think that significant? Of course I had the advantage of seeing and hearing her.”

“Sure it was significant. It wasn’t the reaction you always get to the idea that some close friend has committed murder. It wasn’t shock. She just stated a fact. She knew they hadn’t.”

Wolfe nodded. “Precisely. And I saw and heard her. And there was only one way she could know they hadn’t, with such certainty in her words and voice and manner: She knew who had. Did you form that conclusion?”

“Yes.”

“Then why didn’t you go on? If she hadn’t killed him herself but knew who had, and it wasn’t one of those three men-isn’t it obvious?”

“You slipped that in, if she hadn’t killed him herself. Why hadn’t she?”

A corner of Wolfe’s mouth went up. “There it is, your one major flaw: a distorted conception of the impossible. You will reject as inconceivable such a phenomenon as a man being at two different spots simultaneously, though any adroit trickster could easily contrive it; but you consider it credible that that young woman-even after you had studied her conversation with Mr. Goodwin and me-that she concealed that piece of pipe on her person and took it there with the intention of crushing a man’s skull with it. Preposterous. That is inconceivable.” He waved it away. “Of course that’s academic, now that that wretch has betrayed himself by sending me dynamite instead of corn, and the last step to my conclusion was inevitable. Since she knew who had killed Faber but wouldn’t name him, and it wasn’t one of those three, it was her father; and since she was certain-I heard and saw her say, ‘They didn’t’-she had seen him there. I doubt if he knew it, because-but that’s immaterial. So much for-”

He stopped because Cramer was up, coming to my desk. He picked up the phone, dialed, and in a moment said, “Irwin? Inspector Cramer. I want Sergeant Stebbins.” After another moment: “Purley? Get Carmel, the sheriff’s office. Ask him to get Duncan McLeod and hold him, and no mistake… Yes, Susan McLeod’s father. Send two men to Carmel and tell them to call in as soon as they arrive. Tell Carmel to watch it, McLeod is down for murder and he may be rough… No, that can wait. I’ll be there soon-half an hour, maybe less.”

He hung up, about-faced to Wolfe, and growled, “You knew all this Wednesday afternoon, two days