Cramer grunted.
Wolfe turned a hand over. 'If his objective was the death of Phoebe Arden, why didn't he kill her in the stoneyard--they must have been there, since there is no other concealment near--and leave her there? Or if he did kill her there, which is highly unlikely, why did he carry or drag the body to the cab? And why, his objective reached, did he follow the cab in its wanderings and at the first opportunity call the police? I concede the possibility that he had a double objective, to destroy both Miss Arden and Miss Holt, but if so Miss Holt must have been his main target. To kill Miss Arden, once he had her in the stoneyard with a weapon at hand, was simple and involved little risk; to use her body as a tool for the destruction of Miss Holt was a complicated and daring operation, and the risks were great. I am convinced that he had a single objective, to destroy Miss Holt.'
'Then why?' Cramer demanded. 'Why didn't he kill her?'
'I can only conjecture, but it is based on logic. Because it was known that he had reason to wish Miss Holt dead, and no matter how ingenious his plan and adroit its execution, he would have been suspected and probably brought to account. I have misstated it. That's what he did. He devised a plan so ingenious that he thought he would be safe.'
Purley Stebbins got up, circled around the red leather chair, and stood at Waldo Kearns' elbow.
'No, Mr. Stebbins,' Wolfe said. 'Our poor substitute for a neuter pronoun is misleading. I'll abandon it. If you want to guard a murderer stand by Mrs. Irving.'
Knowing that was coming any second, I had my eye on her. She was only four feet from me. She didn't move a muscle, but
Method Three for Murder 119
her husband did. He put a hand to his forehead and squeezed. I could see his knuckles go white. Mira's eyes stayed fixed on Wolfe, but Judy and Kearns turned to look at Mrs. Irving. Steb bins did too, but he didn't move.
Cramer spoke. 'Who is Mrs. Irving?'
'She is present, sir.'
'I know she is. Who is she?'
'She is the wife of the man whom Miss Holt called on the phone Sunday evening to tell him that she was going to take Miss Bram's cab, and why. Mr. Irving has stated that he told no one of that call. Either he lied or his wife eavesdropped. Mr. Irving. Might your wife have overheard that conversation on an extension?'
Irving's hand left his forehead. He lowered it slowly until it touched his knee. I had him in profile. A muscle at the side of his neck was twitching. 'To say that she might,' he said slowly and precisely, as if he only had so many words and didn't want to waste any, 'isn't saying that she did. You have made a shocking accusation. I hope--' He stopped, leaving it to anybody's guess what he hoped. He blurted, 'Ask her!'
'I shall. Did you, madam?'
'No.' Her deep, strong voice needed more breath behind it. 'Your accusation is not only shocking, it's absurd. I told Mr. Goodwin what I did last evening. Hasn't he told you?'
'He has. You told him that your husband had been prevented by a business emergency from keeping a dinner and theater engagement with you, and you had phoned Phoebe Arden to go in his stead, and she agreed. When she didn't appear at the restaurant you rang her number and got no answer, and then went to another restaurant to eat alone, presumably one where you are not known and plausibly would not be remembered. After waiting for her at the theater until after nine o'clock you left a ticket for her at the box office and went in to your seat. That sounds impressive, but actually it leaves you free for the period that counts, from half past seven until well after nine o'clock. Incidentally, it was a mistake to volunteer that account of your movements, so detailed and precise. When Mr. Goodwin reported it to me I marked you down as worthy of attention.'
I2O
3 at Wolfe's Door
'I wasn't free at all,' she said. 'I told Mr. Goodwin I wanted to help, and--'
'Don't talk,' her husband commanded the back of her head. 'Let him talk.' To Wolfe: 'Unless you're through?'
'By no means. I'll put it directly to you, madam. This is how you really spent those hours. You did phone Phoebe Arden yesterday afternoon, but not to ask her to join you at dinner and the theater. You told her of Miss Holt's plan to drive Miss Bram's cab in an effort to have a talk with her husband, and you proposed a prank. Miss Arden would arrange that Mr. Kearns would fail to appear, and if he didn't, Miss Holt would certainly leave the cab to go to his house to inquire. Whereupon you and Miss Arden, from your concealment in the neighboring stoneyard, would go and enter the cab, and when Miss Holt returned she would find you there, to her discomfiture and even consternation.'
'You can't prove any of this,' Cramer growled.
'No one ever can, since Miss Arden is dead.' Wolfe's eyes didn't leave Mrs. Irving. He went on, 'I didn't know Miss Arden, so I can't say whether she agreed to your proposal from mere caprice or from an animus for Miss Holt, but she did agree, and went to her doom. The program went as planned, without a hitch. No doubt Miss Arden herself devised the stratagem by which Mr. Kearns was removed from the scene. But at this point I must confess that my case is not flawless. Certainly you would not have been so witless as to let anyone have a hand in your deadly prank either a cab driver or your private chauffeur. Do you drive a cart1'
'Don't answer,' Irving commanded her.
'Yes, she does,' Judy Bram said, louder than necessary.
'Thank you, Miss Bram. Apparently you can speak to the point Then you and Miss Arden went in your car, and parked it on Carmine Street--away from the corner in the direction Miss Holt would take when, leaving, she made the turn from Ferrell Street. You walked to the stoneyard and chose your hiding spot, and when Miss Holt left the cab you went and entered it. It is noteworthy that at that point you were committed to nothing but a prank. If Miss Holt had suddenly returned, or if anyone had come close enough to observe, you would merely have abandoned
Method Three for Murder 1-2.1
