doorway it was impossible to get it out. I couldn't tell her that her husband was up in the studio, dead. Later I regretted this, but I now see no reason to regret it or apologize for it, and I simply could not get the words out. I said I had wanted to see her husband, and had rung the bell at the studio and no one had answered. Then I rang
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for the elevator and went down to the street and went home.
Having been unable to tell Mrs. Mion, I told no one. I would have told my father, but he wasn't at home. I decided to wait until he returned and tell him, but before he came a friend telephoned me the news that Mion had killed himself, so I decided not to tell anyone, not even my father, that I had been in the studio, but to say that I had rung the bell and knocked on the door and got no reply. I thought that would make no difference, but it has now been explained to me that it does, and therefore I am stating it exactly as it happened.
As she got to the end the waiter came with the drinks, and she held the document against her chest as if it were a poker hand. Keeping it there with her left, she reached for the glass with her right and took a big swallow of scotch. I took a sip of mine to be sociable.
'It's a pack of lies,' she said indignantly.
'It sure is,' I agreed. 'I have good ears, so keep your voice down. Mr. Wolfe is perfectly willing to give you a break, and anyhow it would be a job to get you to sign it if it told the truth. We are quite aware that the studio door was locked and you opened it with your key. Also that--no, listen to me a minute--also that you purposely picked up the gun and put it on the bust because you thought Mrs. Mion had killed him and left the gun there so it would look like suicide, and you wanted to mess it up for her. You couldn't--'
'Where were you?' she demanded scornfully. 'Hiding behind the couch?'
'Nuts. If you didn't have a key why did you break a date to see me because of what I said on the phone? As
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for the gun, you couldn't have been dumber if you'd worked at it for a year. Who would believe anyone had shot him so it would look like suicide and then been fool enough to put the gun on the bust? Too dumb to believe, honest, but you did it.'
She was too busy with her brain to resent being called dumb. Her frown creased her smooth pale forehead and took the glisten from her eyes. 'Anyway,' she protested, 'what this says not only isn't true, it's impossible! They found the gun on the floor by his body, so this couldn't possibly be true!'
'Yeah.' I grinned at her. 'It must have been a shock when you read that in the paper. Since you had personally moved the gun to the bust, how come they found it on the floor? Obviously someone had moved it back. I suppose you decided that Mrs. Mion had done that too, and it must have been hard to keep your mouth shut, but you had to. Now it's different. Mr. Wolfe knows who put the gun back on the floor and he can prove it. What's more, he knows Mion was murdered and he can prove that too. All that stops him is the detail of explaining how the gun got from the floor to the bust.' I got out my fountain pen. 'Put your name to that, and I'll witness it, and we're all set.'
'You mean sign this thing?' She was contemptuous. 'I'm not that dumb.'
I caught the waiter's eye and signaled for refills, and then, to keep her company, emptied my glass.
I met her gaze, matching her frown. 'LooWt, Blue Eyes,' I told her reasonably. 'I'm not sticking needles under your nails. I'm not saying we can prove you entered the studio--whether with your key or because the door wasn't locked doesn't matter--and moved the gun. We know you did, since no one else could have and you were there at the right time, but I admit we can't
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prove it. However, I'm offering you a wonderful bargain.'
I pointed the pen at her. 'Just listen. All we want this statement for is to keep it in reserve, in case the person who put the gun back on the floor is fool enough to blab it, which is very unlikely. He would only be--'
'You say he?' she demanded.
'Make it he or she. As Mr. Wolfe says, the language could use another pronoun. He would only be making trouble for himself. If he doesn't spill it, and he won't, your statement won't be used at all, but we've got to have it in the safe in case he does. Another thing, if we have this statement we won't feel obliged to pass it along to the cops about your having had a key to the studio door. We wouldn't be interested in keys. Still another, you'll be saving your father a big chunk of dough. If you sign this statement we can clear up the matter of Mion's death, and if we do that I guarantee Mrs. Mion will be in no frame of mind to push any claim against your father. She will be too busy with a certain matter.'
I proffered the pen. 'Go ahead and sign it.'
She shook her head, but not with much energy because her brain was working again. Fully appreciating the fact that her thinking was not on the tournament level, I was patient. Then the refills came and there was a recess, since she couldn't be expected to think and drink all at once. But finally she fought her way through to the point I had aimed at.
'So you know,' she declared with satisfaction.
'We know enough,' I said darkly.
'You know she killed him. You know she put the gun back on the floor. I knew that too, I knew she must have. And now you can prove it? If I sign this you can prove it?'
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Of course I could have covered it with doubletalk, but I thought, What the hell. 'We certainly can,' I assured her. 'With this statement we're ready to go. It's the missing link. Here's the pen.'
She lifted her glass, drained it, put it down, and damned if she didn't shake her head again, this time with energy. 'No,' she said flatly, 'I won't.' She extended a hand with the document in it. 'I admit it's all true, and when you get her on trial if she says she put the gun back on the floor I'll come and swear to it that I put it on the bust, but I won't sign anything because once I signed something about an accident and my father made me promise that I would never sign anything again without showing it to him first. I could take it and show it to him and then sign it,
