done better. 'That's wasted, Mrs. Brooke,' I said. 'Peter Vaughn couldn't handle his conscience, and we have it all from him-that is, his end of it. We have some from others too-people who saw you.'
'You're crazy! What could you have from Peter Vaughn?'
I shook my head. 'Really, it's no good. For his part, corroboration to burn. The hallman and elevator man who saw him come and go, and you go and come, your eight-year-old son-but it shouldn't be necessary to drag him in-the man at the garage. Peter's part is solid. It's the other part that Mr. Wolfe wants to discuss with you. I go on talking to give you time to swallow it. He wants to see you, now, and I came to escort you. The other time you wanted to see him, to find out if he knew that you had gone there that evening. Now it's his turn, he wants to see you. Let's go and get it over with.'
I thought, as I talked, that she was going to go feminine on me, and so she did. She stretched an arm to put her hand out, but I wasn't close enough for her to touch me without leaving the divan. The feminine was in her eyes, and in her chin as it quivered a little, but that was all, except her saying, 'I don't want to go.' Pure feminine.
'Of course you don't. So come on.' Masculine. I stood up.
'You said 'the other part.' What other part?'
'I'm not sure. It's what Mr. Wolfe wants to ask you about. I advise you to come and find out.'
'I'm not… I'll come… later.' She got to her feet, took a step, and put her hand on my arm. 'Later?'
'It's already later. Whipple has been in the coop four days, and he's innocent and you know it.' I took her ann and turned her, masculine but not rough, and she moved. She said she had to tell the maid and headed for a door in the rear, and I thought she might forget to come back, but no. When she returned she had a new look; she had decided to cope. If I had touched her arm I would have been cold-shouldered. But she permitted me to hold her platinum mink and to open and close the door. Down in the lobby, as the hallman opened that door for us, I told him distinctly, 'You may keep that slip of paper for a souvenir,' and he almost lost his grip on the door. In the taxi she wasn't talking; she kept her head turned, looking out the window. Undoubtedly she was doing what I had told Wolfe she would have time for, deciding on her line.
The charade began when we entered the hall of the old brownstone. The front door on the left, which is to the front room, was ajar half an inch, so I knew the office was empty, and Saul knew we had arrived. The whole ground floor is soundproofed, including the doors. She preferred to keep her coat, and I took her to the oflice, to the red leather chair, told her there would be a brief wait, left, closing the door, and proceeded to the alcove at the end of the hail. Wolfe was there by the hole in the wall with the panel opened. He looked a question, and I nodded. If there had been any important departure from the script, either at his end or mine, we would have had to go to the kitchen to discuss it.
I looked at my watch: 3:18. The wait was to be ten minutes from the time we entered the house, at exactly a quarter past. We stood it out. At 3:24 we both got our eyes at the hole, and it was close quarters. For the twentieth time I decided that the hole must be enlarged.
It was an absolutely perfect performance. All three of them, including Saul, had arrived before two o'clock, and I had been present at the briefing, though not at the rehearsing. Simply perfect. At 3:25 the connecting door to the front room opened and they entered, Saul in the lead, and she turned her head to face them. It can't be marked against Saul that he didn't look sinister, he couldn't, with his big nose and flat ears and high sloping forehead. The first Negro was a big husky guy, as black as Case Faison, in a blue sweater and gray slacks that hadn't been pressed since Christmas. The second one was small and wiry, not so black, in a brown suit with light tan stripes, white shirt, and red tie. Neat and clean, but not elegant.
Saul led the way across and stopped at Wolfe's desk, and they lined up there, side by side, facing Dolly Brooke in the red leather chair, ten feet away. For thirty long seconds they stood, no movement, gazing at her. She gazed back. At one point her jaw moved and I thought she was going to speak, but she didn't. Of course Saul was counting the seconds. I have timed him on it and he's never off more than one to a minute. He looked at the other two, and they both nodded. He nodded back and they filed out, not to the front room but to the hall, closing the door behind them.
I slid the panel shut, no noise, and Wolfe and I went to the kitchen. When the door had swung shut he grunted and said, 'Satisfactory.'
'Awful corny,' I said, 'and awful tough. Why she didn't scream or throw something or jump up and run I don't know. I wish I understood women.'
'Pfui. Need you report?'
'No. I followed instructions and she reacted more or less as expected. What I need after that is a drink, and I have six or seven minutes.' I went to a cupboard for a bottle of Big Sandy and to a shelf for a glass, poured, and took a healthy sip. Fritz, who was at the sink sprinkling watercress, said, 'There's milk in the refrigerator.'
'Not when I've just watched three grown men bully a poor little woman.' I took a sip.
'She is not little and she may be a murderer.'
'Murderess. You mustn't call a female Jew a Jewess, and you mustn't call a female Negro a Negress, but it's okay to call a female murderer a murderess.' I took a sip.
'Why?' he demanded.
'Because they resent it. That's another civil right, resenting things. I resent being called a private eye or a hawkshaw, so don't do it.' I looked at my watch, took a sip, put the glass on the big table, and told Wolf; 'Time's up unless you want to stretch it.'
'I don't.' He moved and I followed. Saul was in the hall, up front. He had let the other members of the cast out and was standing by, to stop her if she decided to duck. Wolfe sent him a nod, which he had coming, and opened the door to the office.
Dolly Brooke turned her head, jumped up, and demanded, 'Who were those men?'
He circled around her to his desk, sat, and regarded her. 'Will you please be seated, madam?'
'Tricks,' she said. 'Tricks! Who were they?'
