“And I wanted Mr. Jarrell to know. I wanted them all to know. And I wanted to be sure that you hadn’t forgotten.”
“You may be. And?”
“And I wanted it on the record. I don’t think they’re going to discredit your conclusion. I think you’re going to tell the police about the gun, and I know what will happen then. I would appreciate it if you’ll tell them that I came to see you Friday and what I said. I’ll tell them myself, of course, but I wish you would. I’m not frightened, but-”
Jarrell had been controlling himself. Now he exploded. “Damn you, Nora! You saw Wolfe Friday, three days ago? And didn’t tell me?”
She sent the gray eyes at him. “Don’t yell at me, Mr. Jarrell. I won’t have you yelling at me, not even now. Will you tell the police, Mr. Wolfe?”
“I will if I see them, Miss Kent, and I agree with you, reluctantly, that I’m probably going to.” He took in the audience. “There is a third period, a brief one, which I haven’t mentioned, because we covered it on Friday- from six to six-thirty Wednesday afternoon, when the gun was taken. None of you was excluded from that, either, not even Mr. Brigham, but he is now.” He went to Jarrell. “I bring that up, sir, because you stated explicitly that your daughter-in-law took the gun, but you admitted that you had no proof. Have you any now?”
“No. Proof that you would accept, no.”
“Have you proof that anyone would accept?”
“Certainly he hasn’t.” It was Wyman. He was looking, not at Wolfe, but at his father. But he said “he,” not “you,” though he was looking at him. “And now it’s a little too much. Now it may not be just taking a gun, it may be killing two men with it. Of course he has no proof. He hates her, that’s all. He wants to smear her. He made passes at her, he kept it up for a year, and she wouldn’t let him touch her, and so he hates her. That’s all there is to it.”
Wolfe made a face. “Mrs. Jarrell. You heard what your husband said?”
Susan nodded, just perceptibly. “Yes, I heard.”
“Is it true?”
“Yes. I don’t want-” She closed her mouth and opened it again. “Yes, it’s true.”
Wolfe’s head jerked left. “Mr. Jarrell. Did you make improper advances to your son’s wife?”
“No!”
Wyman looked straight at his father and said distinctly, “You’re a liar.”
“Oh, my God,” Trella said. “This is fine. This is wonderful.”
If I know any man who doesn’t need feeling sorry for it’s Nero Wolfe, but I came close to it then. After all the trouble he had taken to get them there to help him out of his predicament, they had turned his office into a laundromat for washing dirty linen.
He turned and snapped at me, “Archie, draw a check to Mr. Jarrell for ten thousand dollars.” As I got up and went to the safe for the checkbook he snapped at them, “Then it’s hopeless. I was afraid it would be, but it was worth trying. I admit I made the effort chiefly for the sake of my own self-esteem, but also I felt that you deserved this last chance, at least some of you. Now you’re all in for it, and one of you is doomed. Mr. Jarrell, you don’t want me anymore, and heaven knows I don’t want you. Some of Mr. Goodwin’s things are up there in the room he occupied, and he’ll send or go for them. The check, Archie?”
I gave it to him, he signed it, and I went to hand it to Jarrell. I had to go to the far side of the red leather chair to keep from being bumped by Wolfe, who was on his way out and who needs plenty of room whether at rest or in motion. Jarrell was saying something, but Wolfe ignored it and kept going.
They left in a bunch, not a lively bunch. I accompanied them to the hall, and opened the door, but no one paid any attention to me except Lois, who offered a hand and frowned at me-not a hostile frown, but the kind you use instead of a smile when you are out of smiles for reasons beyond your control. I frowned back to show that there was no hard feeling as far as she was concerned.
I watched them down the stoop to the sidewalk through the one-way glass panel, and when I got back to the office Wolfe was there behind his desk. As I crossed to mine he growled at me, “Get Mr. Cramer.”
“You’re riled,” I told him. “It might be a good idea to count ten first.”
“No. Get him.”
I sat and dialed WA 9-8241, Manhattan Homicide West, asked for Inspector Cramer, and got Sergeant Purley Stebbins. He said Cramer was in conference downtown and not approachable. I asked how soon he would be, and Purley said he didn’t know and what did I want.
Wolfe got impatient and picked up his receiver. “Mr. Stebbins? Nero Wolfe. Please tell Mr. Cramer that I shall greatly appreciate it if he will call on me this evening at half past nine-or, failing that, as soon as his convenience will permit. Tell him I have important information for him regarding the Eber and Brigham murders… No, I’m sorry, but it must be Mr. Cramer… I know you are, but if you come without Mr. Cramer you will not be admitted. With him you will be welcome… As soon as he can make it, then.”
As I hung up I spoke. “One thing, anyhow, there is no longer-”
I stopped because I had turned and seen that he had leaned back and shut his eyes, and his lips had started to go in and out. He was certainly desperate. It was only fifteen minutes until dinner time.
Chapter 13
