'I can't teB you how much I regret this, Mr. Wolfe ' f said miserably; fDont try,' Wotfe growled. t 'I wfeh I could, I certainly do. What a really, really rible thing! I wouldn't have dreamed such a tiling I happen--the Manhattan flower Club! Of course, i wasn't a member, but that only makes it worse in a jr/1 McNab turned to Cramer. 'I'm responsible for
i? ' ' '.' - ' .- :
^^ouaref^
v*'Yes. It was my idea. I persuaded Mr. Wolfe to ' it. He let me word the invitations. And I was atulating myself on the great success! The club only a hundred and eighty-nine members, and were over two hundred people here. Then this!
1M Rex Stout
What can I do?' He turned. 'I want you to know this, Mr. Wolfe. I got a message from my paper; they wanted me to do a story on it for the news columns, and I refused point-blank. Even if I get fired--I don't think I will.'
'Sit down a minute,' Cramer invited him.
McNab varied the monotony on one detail, at least. He admitted that he had left the plant rooms three times during the afternoon, once to accompany a departing guest down to the ground floor, and twice to go down alone to check on who had come and who hadn't. Aside from that, he was more of the same. He had never heard of Cynthia Brown. By now it was beginning to seem not only futile but silly to spend time on seven or eight of them merely because they happened to be the last to go and so were at hand. Also it was something new to me from a technical standpoint. I had never seen one stack up like that. Any precinct dick knows that every question you ask of everybody is aimed at one of the three targets: motive, means, and opportunity. In tins ease there were no questions to ask because those were already answered. Motive: the guy had followed her downstairs, knowing she had recognized him, had seen her enter Wolfe's office and thought she was doing exactly what she was doing, ^getting set to tell Wolfe, and had decided to prevent that tiie quickest and best way he knew. Means: any piece of cloth; even his handkerchief would do. Opportunity: he was there--all of them on Saul's fist were.
So if you wanted to learn who strangled Cynthia Brown, first you had to find out who had strangled Doris Hatten, and the cops had already been working on that for five months.
As soon as Bill McNab had been sent cm his way, Colonel Percy Brown was brought in.
Cnrtains for Tkree 187
frown was not exactly at ease, but lie had himself in hand. You would never have picked him for a , and neither would I. His mouth and jaw <yere and attractive, and as he sat down he leveled i gray eyes at Cramer and kept them there. He n't interested in Wolfe or me. He said his name was el Percy Brown, and Cramer asked him which he was a colonel in.
think,' Brown said in a cool even tone, 'it will rtime if I state my position. I will answer fully and aD questions that relate to what I saw or heard since I arrived here this afternoon. Tb that ex Ill help you all I can. Answers to any other ques ? will have to wait until I consult my attorneyi* nodded, 'I expected that. The trouble is sore I don't give a damn what you saw or 1 this afternoon. We'll come back to that. I want to I to you. As you see, I'm not even want know why you tried to break away before we *?/* - =. :... ;., ; -;': . '' . -/'' -'''
iinerely wanted to phone-^ forget it' Cramer put the remains of his second not more than a scraggfy inch, in the ashtray, received, I think it's like this. The who called herself Cynthia Brown, murdered ay, was not your sister. You met her in Florida eight weeks ago. She went in with yon on an of which Mrs. Orwin was the subject, and her to Mrs. Orwin as your sister. You to New York with Mrs. Orwin a week ago, i operation well under way. As far as I'm Con1, that is only background. Otherwise I'm not in in it. My work is homicide, and that's what
; onnow.' was listening politely.
188 Re* Stout
SFor use,' Cramer^went or, 'the point is that for quite a period you have been closely connected with this Miss Brown, associating with her in a confidential operation. You must have had many intimate conversations with her. You were having her with you as your sister, and she wasn't, and she's been murdered. We could give you merry hell on that score alone.'
Brown had no use for his tongue. His face said no comment. ;: . - .'-..-.:..-;-. ' ''--.. ;
'full never be too late togive^you hell,' Gramer assured him, 'but I wanted to give you a chance first. For tw? months you've been on intimate terms with Gynthia Brown. She certainly must have mentioned an experience she had last October. A friend of hers named Doris Hatten was murdered--strangled. Gynthia Brown had information about the murderer which she kept to herself; if she had come out with it she'd be alive now. She must have mentioned that to you; you can't tell me she didn't. She must have told you all about it. Now you can tell me. If you do we can nail him for what he did here today, and it might even make things a little smoother for you. Well?'
Brown had pursed his lips. They straightened out again, and his hand came up for a finger to scratch his cheek.
'I'm sorry,' he said.
'For what?'
'I'm sorry I can't help.'
'Do you expect me to believe that during all those weeks she never mentioned the murder of her friend Dorffi Hatten?'
'I'm sorry I can't help.'
Gramer got out another cigar and rolled it between his palms, which was wasted energy since he didn't intend to draw smoke through it. Having seen him do
Curtains for Three 189
fare, I knew what it meant. He still thought he lit get something from this customer and was tak ; time out to control himself . IfFm sorry too,' he said, laying not to make it a 'But she must have told you something of her dus career, didn't she?' _ 'm sorry.' Brown's tone was firm and final. -,, pOkay. We'll move on to this afternoon. On that you I you'd answer fully and freely. Do you remember a at when something about Cynthia Brown's ap movement she made or the expres* t on her face--caused Mrs. Orwin to ask her what jpthe matter with her?'
