“I didn’t tell you to go because it’s lunchtime. Also I doubt if you would get anything useful. Naturally I’ll have to see Mr. Vance-and Mr. Fougere. As for desperation, when I took Mr. Kirk’s check I knew it was extremely improbable that he had killed his wife, and I-”
“How?”
He shook his head. “You call me to account? You know everything that I know; ponder it yourself. If instead of lunch you choose to be present at a futile conversation, do so by all means. I will not be hectored into an explanation you shouldn’t need.”
Fritz entered to announce lunch, saw what the atmosphere was, and stood. I went and opened the door to the front room, passed through, and told Rita, “All right, Mrs. Fougere. I’m going along.”
6
WHEN YOU’RE GOOD and sore at someone it’s simple. You cuss him out, to his face if he’s available and privately if he isn’t, and you take steps if and as you can. When you’re sore at yourself it’s even simpler; the subject is right there and can’t skip. But when you’re sore at yourself and someone else at the same time you’re in a fix. If you try to concentrate on one the other one horns in and gets you off balance, and that was the state I was in as I stood aside in the vestibule of Two-nineteen Horn Street while Rita Fougere used her key on the door. In the taxi on the way down I had told her about the necktie problem. She might as well get it from me as later from Kirk, and she might as well understand why Kirk wanted to see Vance.
I supposed she would want to go first to her own apartment on the ground floor; surely any woman would whose face needed attention as much as hers-but no. Straight to the elevator and up, and out at the third floor, and she pressed the button at Vance’s door. It opened, and Vance was there. His face wasn’t as neat and smooth as it had been the day before, and he had on a different outfit-a conservative gray suit, a white shirt, and a plain gray tie. Of course the DA’s office had had him down too. He said “Rita!” and put out a hand, then saw me, but I can’t say what kind of a welcome I would have got because Kirk interrupted, stepping over and telling Rita she shouldn’t have come. She said something, but he wasn’t listening because he had noticed me.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said. “It’s not very clear in my mind, what Nero Wolfe told me about the tie. I was just going to tell Vance about him. Rita, please! You can’t-this is
“Listen, Martin,” she said, “you shouldn’t be here. I know now why they think it was one of us, so it’s
“Mr. Wolfe knew he was coming,” I said. I have mentioned that I was sore. “Mr. Wolfe has been called a wizard by various people, and with a wizard you never know. Of course he had me come.” I had to force my tongue to let that through, but a private scrap should be kept private.
Vance was frowning at me. “Nero Wolfe had you come? Here?”
“I went to him,” Kirk said. “He told me about the necktie. That’s what I want to ask you about. You remember you gave me one, one of those-”
A bell tinkled. I was between Vance and the door, and I moved to let him by. He opened the door and a man stepped in, darted a glance around, and squeaked, “What, a party? A hell of a time for a party, Jimmy.”
I say he squeaked because he did, but it was obviously his natural squeak, not the kind on the phone that had told me to burn the tie, though it didn’t fit his six feet and broad shoulders and handsome, manly face. “It’s no party, Paul,” Vance told him, but Paul ignored him and was at Rita. “My pet, you’re a perfect fright. You look godawful.” He wheeled to Kirk. “And look at you, Martin my boy. Only why not? Why are you still loose?” He looked at me. “Are you a cop?”
I shook my head. “I don’t count. Skip me.”
“With pleasure.” To Vance: “I came to ask you something, and now I can ask everybody. Do you know that the cops have got one of your neckties with a spot on it?”
Vance nodded. “Yes, I know.”
“Where did they get it? Why are they riding me about it? Why did they ask me if I had taken it or one like it out of your closet? Did you tell them I had?”
“Certainly not. I told them one was missing, that’s all.”
Kirk blurted, “And you told them you gave one like it to me.”
Vance frowned at him. “Damn it, Martin, I had to, didn’t I? They would have found out anyway. Other people knew about it.”
“Of course you had to,” Kirk said. “I know that. But that one is missing too. I just looked for it and it’s gone. It was taken from my room here before I left, because I took everything with me and it’s not there. I came to ask you if you know-”
“Can it,” Paul cut in. “You’ve got a nerve to ask anybody anything. Why are you loose? Okay, you killed her, she’s dead. What kind of a dodge are you trying with one of Jimmy’s neckties with a spot on it?”
“No,” Kirk said. “I didn’t kill her.”
“Oh, can it. I was thinking maybe you do have some guts after all. She decorated you with one of the finest pairs of horns on record, and you never moved a finger. You just took it lying down-or I should say standing up. I thought it would be hard to find a poorer excuse for a man, but yesterday when I heard what had happened-”
Of course I had heard and read of a man slapping another man, but that was the first time I had
