Trio for Blunt Instruments

it.”

Wolfe shook his head. “Not necessary. Had your father mentioned before you left that he intended to go out?”

“No. And he always did. We always told each other ahead of time what we were going to do.”

“Had he given you no hint- Very well, Fritz.”

Fritz crossed to the red leather chair, put the tray on the little table that is always there for people to write checks on, and proffered her a napkin. She didn’t lift a hand to take it. Wolfe spoke.

“I’ll listen to more, Miss Vassos, only after you eat.” He picked up his book, opened to his page, and swiveled to put his back to her. She took the napkin. Fritz went. I could have turned to my desk and pretended to do something, but I would have been reflected to her in the big mirror on the wall back of my desk, which gives me a view of the door to the hall, and she would have been reflected to me, so I got up and went to the kitchen. Fritz was at the side table putting the cover on the toaster. As I got the milk from the refrigerator I told him, “She’s the daughter of Pete Vassos. I’ll have to scare up a bootblack. He’s dead.”

“Him?” Fritz turned. “Dieu m’en garde.” He shook his head. “Too young. Then she is not a client?”

“Not one to send a bill to.” I poured milk. “Anyhow, as you know, he wouldn’t take a paying client if one came up the stoop on his knees. It’s December, and his tax bracket is near the top. If she wants him to help and he won’t, I’ll take a leave of absence and handle it myself. You saw her face.”

He snorted. “She should be warned. About you.”

“Sure. I’ll do that first.”

I don’t gulp milk. When the glass was half empty I tiptoed out to the office door. Wolfe’s back was still turned and Elma was putting jam on a piece of toast. I finished the milk, taking my time, and took the glass to the kitchen, and when I returned Wolfe had about-faced and put the book down and she was saying something. I entered and crossed to my desk.

“… and he had never done that before,” she was telling Wolfe. “I thought he might have gone back to the district attorney’s office, so I phoned there, but he hadn’t. I phoned two of his friends but they hadn’t seen him. I went to work as usual, he goes to that building every morning, and I told Mr. Busch and he tried to find out if he was in the building, but no one had seen him. Then a detective came and asked me a lot of questions, and later, after lunch, another one came and took me to the district attorney’s office, and I-”

“Miss Vassos.” Wolfe was curt. “If you please. You have eaten, though not much, and your faculties are apparently in order. You said you must tell me, and I would not be uncivil to your father’s daughter, but these details are not essential. Give me brief answers to some questions. You said that they think your father killed himself, he jumped off. Who are ‘they’?”

“The police. The detectives.”

“How do you know they do?”

“The way they talked. What they said. What they asked me. They think he killed Mr. Ashby and he knew they were finding out about it, so he killed himself.”

“Do they think they know why he killed Mr. Ashby?”

“Yes. Because he had found out that Mr. Ashby had seduced me.”

I lifted a brow. You couldn’t be much briefer than that. There wasn’t the slightest sign on her face that she had said anything remarkable. Nor was there any sign on Wolfe’s face that he had heard anything remarkable. He asked, “How do you know that?”

“What they said this afternoon at the district attorney’s office. They used that word, ‘seduced.’”

“Did you know that your father had found out that Mr. Ashby had seduced you?”

“Of course not, because he hadn’t. My father wouldn’t have believed that even if Mr. Ashby had told him, or even if I had gone crazy and told him, because he would have known it wasn’t so. My father knew me.”

Wolfe was frowning. “You mean he thought he knew you?”

“He did know me. He didn’t know I couldn’t be seduced-I suppose any girl could be seduced if her head gets turned enough-but he knew if I was I would tell him. And he knew if I ever was seduced it wouldn’t be Mr. Ashby or anyone like him. My father knew me.”

“Let’s make it clear. Are you saying that Mr. Ashby had not seduced you?”

“Yes. Of course.”

“Had he tried to?”

She hesitated. “No.” She considered. “He took me to dinner and a show three times. The last time was nearly a year ago. He asked me several times since, but I didn’t go because I had found out what he was like and I didn’t like him.”

Wolfe’s frown had gone. “Then why do the police think he had seduced you?”

“I don’t know, but someone must have told them. Someone must have told them lies about Mr. Ashby and me, from what they said.”

“Who? Did they name anyone?”

“No.”

“Do you know who? Or can you guess?”

“No.”