'Glad to,' Carol agreed. 'You start. Shoot.'
'Well, how's this? We all knew Arthur was practically a commissar, I always called him comrade, and we knew his aunt and uncle hated it, and he was afraid he might lose his job and have to go on relief but he was so damn brave and honest he couldn't keep his mouth shut. We all knew that?' Ur course.
'Did you know this too? He told me?a week ago today, I think it was. His aunt put it to him, reform or out on the street, and he told her he was secretly working for the FBI, spying on the Commies, but he wasn't. He thought the FBI was practically the Gestapo. I told him he shouldn't?'
'That's a lie!'
Mrs. Rackell didn't shout but she put lots of feeling in it. All eyes went to her. Her husband got up and put a hand on her shoulder. There were murmurs.
'That's an infamous lie,' she said. 'My nephew was a patriotic American. More than you are, all of you. All of you!' She left her chair. 'I've had enough of this. I shouldn't have come. Come, Ben, we're going.'
She marched out. Rackell muttered to Wolfe, 'A shock for her?a real shock?I'll phone you?' and trotted after her. I went to the hall to let them out, but she had already opened the door and was on the stoop, and Rackell followed. I shut the door and went back to the office.
They were buzzing. Fifi had started them talking, all right. Wolfe was refilling his glass, watching the foam rise. I crossed 20
to Fifi and took her glass and went to the table to replenish it, thinking she had earned a little service. She was the center of the buzzing, supplying the details of her revelation. She was sure Arthur had not been stringing her; he had told her in strict confidence, at a place and time she declined to specify, that he had told his aunt a barefaced lie--that he was working for the FBI and it must not be known. No, she hadn't told the police. She didn't like the police, especially a Lieutenant Rowcliff, who had questioned her three times and was a lout.
I looked and listened and tried to decide if Fifi was putting on an act. She was hard to tag. Was one of the others covering, and if so which one? I reached no conclusion and had no hunch. They were all interested and inquisitive, even Delia Devlin, though she didn't address Fifi directly.
The only one who knew I was there was Carol Berk, who sent me a slanting glance and saw me catch it. I raised a brow at her. 'What is it, a pitchout?'
'You name it.' She smiled, the way she might smile at a panhandler, humane but superior. 'Why, who's on base?'
I decided it right then, she was worth looking at, if for nothing else, to find out what she was keeping back. 'They're loaded,' I told her. 'Five of you. It's against the rules. The umpire won't allow it. Mr. Wolfe is the umpire.'
'He looks to me more like the backstop,' she said indifferently.
I saw that it might be necessary, if events permitted, to find an opportunity to spend enough time with her to make it clear that I didn't like her.
All of a sudden Fifi Goheen let fly again. Returning from the bar with her second refill, she brought the bottle of Scotch along and poured a good three fingers in Wolfe's beer glass. She put the bottle on his desk, leaned over to stretch an arm and pat him on top of the head, straightened up, and grinned M him.
'Get high,' she said urgently.
He glared at her.
'Do a flip,' she commanded.
21
He glared.
'It's a damn shame,' she declared. 'The cops aren't speaking to you, and here you're buying the drinks and we're not even sociable. Why shouldn't we tell you what die cops have already found out? If they're any good they have. Take Miss Devlin here.' She waved a hand. 'Dozens of people will tell you that she would have got Hank Heath to make it legal long ago if Arthur hadn't told him something about her, God knows what. Any woman would kill a man for that. And--'
'Shut up, Fee!' Leddegard barked at her.
'Let her rave,' Delia Devlin said, white-faced.
Fifi ignored them. 'And Mr. Leddegard, who is a dear friend of mine, with him it's a question of his wife--don't be a fool, Leddy. Everybody knows it.' Back to Wolfe. 'She went to South America with Arthur a couple of years ago and caught a disease and died there. I have no idea why Mr. Leddegard waited so long to kill him.'
She drained her glass and put it on the desk. 'This Arthur Rackell,' she said, 'was quite a guy, of his kind. Carol Berk and I discovered only a month ago that he was driving double, by a little mischance I'd rather not describe. It was quite embarrassing. I don't know how she felt about it, you can ask her, but I know about me. All I needed was the poison, and all you need is to find out how I got it. I understand that potassium cyanide is used for a lot of things and is easy to get if you really want it. Then there's Hank Heath. He thought Arthur had me taped, which was true in a way, but would a man kill another man just to get a woman, even one as pure and beautiful as me? You can ask him. No, I'll ask him.'
She wheeled. 'Would you, Hank?' She wheeled again to Wolfe. 'As you see, that was quite a dinner party Arthur got up, but he doesn't deserve all the credit. I dared him to. I wanted a good audience, one that would appreciate--hey, that hurts!'
Heath was beside her, gripping her arm. She jerked away and bumped into Delia Devlin, also out of her chair. Carol Berk said something, and so did Leddegard. Heath spoke to Wolfe. 'This is a joke, and it's not funny.'
22
Wolfe's brows went up. 'It's not my joke, sir.' 'You asked us to come here.' His voice was soft but very t, sour, and his glassy eyes looked about ready to pop out of his i' round pudgy face. 'Miss Goheen has been making a fool of you, and there--'
