The Final Deduction

serious trouble. Is that what you want from Mr Wolfe or me?”

“No.” She had the papers back in the envelope and was clutching it. “Only partly that. I want to know why you thought Dinah was implicated.”

“Naturally.” I put the notebook back in my pocket. “You didn’t see her there? At Iron Mine Road?”

“No, of course not.”

“Not of course not, since she was there. Was the man alone in the car behind you?”

“I didn’t see anyone else. It was dark. I wasn’t-I wasn’t caring if there was anyone else.”

“What did the man look like?”

“I don’t know. He had a coat and a hat pulled down, and his face was covered with something, all but his eyes.”

“Who left first, him or you?”

“I did. He told me to. I had to go on up the road to find a place to turn around.”

“Was his car still there when you came back past the spot?”

“Yes. He had it up against the bank so I could get by.”

“Did you see any other car anywhere on that road?”

“No.” She gestured impatiently. “What has this to do with Dinah?”

“Nothing,” Noel Tedder said. “He’s a detective. It’s his nature. He’s putting you through the wringer.”

“I insist,” Andrew Frost said emphatically, “that this is ill-advised. Very ill- advised. You’re making a mistake, Althea. Don’t you agree. Jimmy?”

Jimmy was back at the fireplace. “Yes,” he said. “I agree.”

“But Jimmy, you must see,” she protested. “She was there! And they killed her! You must see I want to know why Nero Wolfe suspected her!” To me: “Why did he?”

I shook my head. “I only run errands. But you’re welcome to a hint.” I stood up. “That phone talk you had with Mr Knapp Monday afternoon, that Dinah listened to and took down. May I see the machine she typed it on?”

The three men spoke at once. Jimmy Vail and Andrew Frost both said, “No!” and Noel Tedder said, “Didn’t I tell you?” Mrs Vail ignored them and asked, “Why?”

“I’ll probably tell you after I see it. And I may have a suggestion to make. Is it here?”

“It’s in my study.” She arose. “Will you tell me why you suspected Dinah?”

“I’ll either tell you or you’ll have a healthy idea.”

“All right, come with me.” She moved, paying no attention to protests from the men. I followed her out and along the hall to a door frame where she pressed a button. The door of a do-it-yourself elevator slid open, and we entered. That elevator was a much newer and neater job than the one in Wolfe’s house that took him up to his room or the roof. No noise or jiggle. When it stopped and the door opened, she stepped out and led the way down the hall, some narrower than the one below. The room we entered was much smaller than the Harold F. Tedder library. Inside, I stopped for a glance around-that’s habit. Two desks, one large and one small, shelves with books and magazines, filing cabinet, a large wall mirror, a television set on a table, framed photographs. Mrs Vail had crossed to the small desk. She turned and said, “It’s not here! The typewriter.”

I went to her. At the end of the desk was a typewriter stand on casters. There was nothing on it. She had turned again and was staring at it. There were only two questions worth asking, and I asked them.

“Is it always kept here, or is it sometimes taken to another room?”

“Never. It is kept here.”

“When did you last see it here?”

“I don’t- I’d have to think. I haven’t been in here today, until just now, when I came to get this envelope. I didn’t notice it was gone. Sometime yesterday-I’d have to think. I can’t imagine…”

“Someone may have borrowed it.” I went to the door and turned. “I’ll report to Mr Wolfe. If he has anything to say we’ll ring you. The main thing is we’ll stay put until Friday unless you-”

“But you’re going to tell me why you suspected Dinah!”

“Not now. Find the typewriter, and we’ll see.” I left. As I went down the hall her voice followed me, but I kept going. I was in no mood for talk. I should never have mentioned the typewriter, since it had nothing to do with the job Wolfe had been paid for, but I had wanted to get a sample from it to take along. Noel Tedder had been right; I was a detective, and it was my nature. Nuts. Skipping the elevator, I took the stairs, three flights down, and when I reached the ground floor the square-faced female appeared through an arch. She got my coat and held it, and went and opened the door; and there entering the vestibule was Ben Dykes, head of the Westchester County detectives.

I said, “Hello there. Get stopped for speeding?”

He said, “I’ve been in the park feeding pigeons. I didn’t want to butt in.”

“That’s the spirit. I fully appreciate it. May your tribe increase.” I circled around him, on out, and headed for Best Street, where I had left the car.