'How did he get it? I understand you delivered him to Mr. Pratt last Friday. Did he bring it with him from your place?'
'He couldn't have. It doesn't wait that long to kill. The question of how he got it… that's one thing we came over here to discuss.' McMillan faced Osgood. He hesitated a second and said, 'Look here, Fred, say we sit down. I'm about played out. We want to ask you something.'
Osgood said curtly, 'Come to the veranda.'
I controlled a grin. By gum, he wasn't going to have a mud lark sitting within his walls. They all moved, Wolfe followed, and I brought up the rear, after a glance to see that Nancy was just getting up from her chair and Bronson was no longer visible through the French window. I requested her not to forget to ask the servants what Wolfe had told her, and she nodded,
When I got to the veranda they were seated in a group in the wicker chairs and McMillan was telling Osgood, 'We all want it cleared up and that's why Pratt and I came over here. Waddell will be along pretty soon. Someone had an idea, it doesn't matter who, after Caesar was found dead, and we thought it was only fair to tell you about it before it is followed up. If you want to know why I came to tell you… I came because everybody else was afraid to. It's Wad- dell's job, or Sam Lake's, not mine, and it will be up to them to investigate it if they decide to, but they asked me to come and discuss it with you first. Pratt offered to come, but we knew how far that would get and it might even lead to some more violence of which we've had plenty, so I came, and he came along with what I would call good intentions… he can tell you-'
Pratt began, 'The fact is, Fred-'
'My name's Osgood, damn you!'
'All right. Take your name and stick it up your chimney and go to hell.'
Osgood ignored him and demanded, 'What do you want to discuss, Monte?'
'About Clyde,' McMillan said. 'You're going to be sore. naturally, but it won't help any to fly off the handle. The fact is that Clyde was in that pasture. What for? Waddell and Sam Lake, and Captain Barrow of the state police, admit that Nero Wolfe's reconstruction of it is possible, but it's hard to believe, and one reason it's hard is that if somebody did all that, who was it? That's Chiefly what has them stumped.'
'Not unique,' murmured Wolfe.
'Do you claim the bull killed him?' Osgood demanded. 'I don't claim anything.' McMillan lifted his sagging shoul- ders. 'Don't get me wrong, Fred. I told you I came to see you because the others, except Pratt, were afraid to. I don't claim anything. What they say is this, that the main difficulty with supposing that Clyde climbed into the pasture himself was to try to figure what for. I said myself this morning that it was dumb as hell for anybody to imagine that he went in there to get the bull, because that would have been plain crazy and Clyde wasn't a lunatic. What could he have intended to do with him? You can't hide a bull in a barrel. But when Caesar was found dead of anthrax… it was Captain Barrow who suggested it first as a possibility… that might account for Clyde entering the pasture. As you know, anthrax can be communicated subcutaneously, or by contact, or by ingestion. If Caesar was fed something last night, something that had been activated… well…'
Involuntarily I hunched forward and drew my feet under me, ready to move. Frederick Osgood was stiff, and his eyes glassy, with cold rage. His chronic scowl had been merely funny, but he didn't look funny now. He said in a composed and icy tone:
'Look out, Monte. By God, look out. If you're suggesting that my son deliberately poisoned that bull…'
McMillan said gruffly, 'I'm not suggesting anything. I've told you I came here as a messenger. The fact is, I wanted to come, because I thought you ought to be warned by a friend. Waddell's attitude, and Captain Barrow's, is that it was you who insisted on an investigation, and if there is any part of it you don't like you've got yourself to thank for it. Anyhow, they'll be here any minute now, with the idea of finding out where Clyde had been the past few days and whether he had access, or could have had access, to any source of an- thrax.'
'Anybody who comes here-' Osgood had to stop to control his voice '-with that idea can go away again. So can you. It… it's infamous.' He began to tremble. 'By God-'
'Mr. Osgood!' It was Wolfe, using his sharpest tone. 'Didn't I warn you? I said annoyance, intrusion, plague. Mr. McMillan is perfectly correct, you have yourself to thank for it.'
'But I don't have to tolerate-'
'Oh yes you do. Anything from inanity to malevolence, though I doubt if we're dealing with the latter in this in- stance. I don't know Captain Barrow, but I can see Mr. Waddell, like a befuddled trout, leaping for such a fly as this in all innocence. It is amazing with what frivolity a mind like his can disregard a basic fact-in this case the fact that Clyde was not killed by the bull. I entreat you to remember what I said about our needing Mr. Waddell. It is really fortunate he's coming here, for now we can get information that we need without delay. If first you must submit to an inquiry which you regard as monstrous, you will do so because it is neces- sary. They represent authority… and here they are, I suppose…'
There was a sound of wheels crunching gravel, and a car swung into view on the drive and rolled to a stop at the foot of the veranda steps. First out was a state cossack in uniform, a captain, looking grim and unflinching, and following him appeared the district attorney, trying to look the same. They came up the steps and headed for the group.
I missed that battle. Wolfe got up from his chair and started off, and, seeing that he had his handkerchief in his hand, I arose and followed him. With a nod to Waddell as we passed he went on, entered the house, stopped in the main hall, turned to me and told me to wait there for him, and/disappeared in the direction of the library. I stood and wondered what was causing all his violent commotion.
In a few minutes he came back looking disgruntled. He frowned at me and muttered, 'Entirely too fast for us, Archie. We are being made to look silly. We may even have been out- witted. I got Mr. Bennett on the telephone, but drew a blank. Did you bring a camera along?'
'No.'
'After this always have one. Take a car and get over there. Someone there must have a camera-the niece or nephew or Miss Rowan. Borrow it and take pictures of the carcass from all angles… a dozen or more, as many as you can get Hurry, before they get that fire started.'
