tell them where I was, but I'll say I was alone.' 'Did you stop to eat or drink?' 'No. We have no corroboration.' 'That's too bad. Will you have some beer?' Davis shuddered. 'No!' 'I'm thirsty.' Wolfe poured and put the bottle down. 'You see, Mr. Davis, you may get into trouble. I doubt if the police have smelled you yet, but they certainly will if they keep on. They'll learn that you formed an attachment for Miss Karn a long while ago, and that when--' 'That's an old story. Back in 1935. How did you know about it?' 'I have men working for me. But the attachment still exists, doesn't it?' 'Certainly not.' 'You were with Miss Karn Tuesday. You were with her last evening.' 172 WHERE THERE'S A WILL 'We are friends. I'm a lawyer. She was consulting me.' Wolfe shook his head. 'Please don't waste time like that. There are two pictures of her in your wallet, and Mr. Dawson has eight more scattered around his apartment.' Davis flushed in sudden anger, and his jaw stiffened. He shot me a glance that he should have been ashamed of, considering the fact that I had just saved his life with a triple Scotch. 'By God,' he declared, 'if I wasn't tied hand and foot--' 'You'd assault Mr. Goodwin. I know. I know too, I think, how reluctant you are to admit your attachment for Miss Karn as an item in a discussion like this. It is a vital necessity for you right now to keep your head clear and working efficiently, and that's difficult when a subject arises which causes your heart to pump an excess of blood. I'll go as easy as I can. But here's the material we have to deal with: You were passionately attached to Miss Karn. Noel Hawthorne saw her and liked her, and wanted her, and took her. Naturally you resented that. How much I don't know, but surely you resented it. However, either you continued some sort of association with her, or after a time you resumed association. 'Which?' FR1;WHERE THERE^S A WILL 173 Da vis didn't reply. Wolfe went on: 'I'm not thinking about murder now, I'm thinking about that will. Where was it drawn? In the office of Dunwoodie, Prescott & Davis. Where was it kept? In a vault in that office. Who benefited by 'f it? Chiefly Miss Karn. Did she know that? Yes; Mr; Prescott let her read it shortly after it was drawn, having been instructed to do so by Mr. Hawthorne. Did you know that? I don't know. Did you?' 'No,' said Davis curtly. 'It was none of my business. Prescott drew it.' 'But you have access to the vault?' ?; , i-' 'I'm a lawyer, not a snoop, Mr. Wolfe.' 'But isn't it plausible that Miss Karn told you about it? Couldn't you have learned it that way?' 'It may be plausible, but she didn't. I knew nothing, absolutely nothing, about the terms of that will until Miss Karn told me last night. Has Prescott told you I did?' 'Oh, no. No one has told me anything, really. They're all like you. I've sat in this confounded room over seven hours, and I know very little more than when I entered it. I don't resent it that each of you people has something to conceal--everybody in the world has--but it has never taken me so long to find a loose end. Let's start somewhere else. You 174 WHERE THERE'S A WILL say you are Miss Karri's friend and lawyer and she consults you. Did you advise her to come here this afternoon to negotiate with Mrs. Hawthorne?' 'No. Why?' 'Because she came.' 'She came here?' 'Yes.' 'How do you know? Did you see her?' 'No. Mr. Goodwin did. He had a little talk with her. Down in the living room. I thought perhaps?' He chopped it off because the door suddenly opened. There was no knock, but it swung wide and Glenn Prescott marched in. CHAPTER TWELVE the two counselors-at-law looked at each other. Prescott, having halted in his stride, advanced and said, 'Hello, Gene.' Davis nodded but didn't speak. I could see both their faces. Davis's exhibited vigilance and contempt; Prescott's, vigilance and a sort of exasperated solicitude. s-- >^ ( 'Relax!' Davis commanded. 'Quit looking like the damned Salvation Army! I'm sober. These fel? lows jolted me sober. They know I was with Miss Karn last evening, and they know my name's Dawson on llth Street. So I've been answering questions. Nothing indiscreet. Just where I was Tuesday afternoon and things like that.' Prescott said, 'You're a fool. You were a fool to come here. You could have been kept out of this. It can't possibly be kept quiet longer than another c day. When the papers start on it, and on you as a part of it--where are Dunwoodie, Prescott & Davis going to be?' 'The dear old firm,' Davis sneered. ^ 'Yes, Gene, the dear old firm. We've made it, but it made us, too. You were headed for the top, you had it in you. You still have. I'm a pretty good lawyer and a hard worker, but you're a lot more 175 FR1;176 WHERE THERE'S A WILL than that. You're one of the rare ones, the kind that makes history. I don't need to tell you that. And now you don't even--you come here and step into this--oh, my God.' He turned abruptly to Wolfe. 'You've got us at your mercy. What are you going to do? Hand it over to the police?' Wolfe shook his head. 'No, sir. I might for a quid pro quo, but the police have nothing I want. Sit down; let's talk it over. I was just asking Mr. Davis if he advised Miss Karn to come here to negotiate with Mrs. Hawthorne.' 'If he advised--' Prescott gawked. 'Why did you ask him that?' Davis forestalled White's answer. 'Because she came! She was here!' He was on his feet, confronting his partner. 'And now I'm asking you! Did you bring her here?' 'You're crazy. Gene. For God's sake, have a little sense. I tell you, this is no time--' 'You brought her here!' 'You're crazy! Why would I--' 'I'm going to find out,' Davis declared, and tramped from the room. We all stared at the open door which he had disdained to close. Then Prescott said abruptly, 'The damned idiot,' and out he went too. I was out of my chair, asking hopefully: FR1;WHERE THERE*S A WILL 177 'Do you want 'em?' 'No, Archie.' Wolfe leaned back and sighed. 'No, thank you.' He closed his eyes. 'No, thank ?, you. 'You're quite welcome,' I said politely, and sat down again without bothering to close the door. That was merely one more example of my selfcontrol. Inwardly I was in a turmoil. I knew the ,.' signs. I knew that tone of his. It was the first symp- ,' ) torn of the approach of a relaose. Unless I could i bully him out of it, or unless the murderer came ^ in and confessed within an hour, he would have ^ a relapse as sure as ham loves eggs. What made it //' so ticklish was the fact that we weren't at home. 3 If we had been at the office I would have stood an even chance of jolting him loose, but there on alien territory I wasn't so sure of myself .So I don't know how long I might have sat there trying to decide the best line to take, beyond the ten minutes or so I did sit, if I hadn't heard footsteps stopping at the doorway. I turned my head and saw it was the butler.
'Speak,' I said listlessly. 'Yes, sir. Mr. Dunn would like to see Mr. Wolfe in the living room.' 'Bring me a derrick.' I waved him away. 'You've done your share. I'll get him there if I can.' 178 WHERE THERE'S A WILL He went. I waited a full minute and then demanded, 'Did you hear that?' 'Yes.' 'Well?' No answer. I waited another minute. 'Look here. You are not in your own home. You came here of your own volition. It's not Dunn's fault that this thing is turning into a plate of sour hash, unless he killed Hawthorne himself. He invited you here and you came. Either go down and see what | he wants, or let's go home and starve.' , He stirred, slowly opened his eyes, and pronounced a word in some foreign tongue which I , have never bothered to ask him to translate, because it sounds as if it couldn't be printed anyway. | He got out of his chair, and moved toward the ( door. I followed. We found they were having a convention in the living room. The delegates consisted of John Charles Dunn, Glenn Prescott, Osric Stauffer, a wiry little squirt whom I recognized as DetectiveLieutenant Bronson of the police, and a six-footer in a hot and dignified three-piece suit who looked concentrated and uncomfortable. By the introduction, made by Dunn, he was identified as Mr. Ritchie of the Cosmopolitan Trust Company, executor of Noel Hawthorne's estate. Dunn also explained why we had been ousted FR1;WHERE THERE^S A WILL 179 from the library. The police had asked for permed' sion to inspect the private papers of Hawthorne,' most of which were in a safe built into the library wall, and the trust company had granted it, on condition that they should have a representative present. That was Mr. Ritchie. It was also thought desirable that Hawthorne's personal attorney should ^ there. That was Mr. Prescott. And to protect, necessary, the confidential affairs of Daniel Cullen and Company, they wanted a man there too. That was Mr. Stauffer. Bronson, Stauffer, Prescott and Ritchie marched off upstairs to open the safe. I thought to myself, they'll find another will as sure as water's wet, and then we'll have to solve the damn murder to get any fee at all. John Charles Dunn was asking Wolfe if he had made any progress, and Wolfe was replying grumpily that he hadn't. I knew better than to try any badgering in the presence of Dunn, but I thought I might as well try something, so I crossed the room to where the draperies were and pulled them open, thinking to show Wolfe where I had found Stauffer in ambush. But there was more than that there to show him, if he had been beside me, though I nearly missed it. She must have heard me, or seen me through a slit, approaching. All I saw was the back of the gray gown, and the back of her head, FR1;180 WHERE THERE'S A WILL as she went out through the door in the right rear corner. I called to Wolfe and Dunn, 'Come here a minute!'
'What is it?' 'Come here and I'll show you.' They crossed to me. I held the curtain open. 'I admit it's her house, but it's a bad habit to get into anyhow. When I was in here alone this morning, Mrs. Hawthorne suddenly appeared from behind these drapes and then vanished. This is also the ambush I mentioned in that note I gave you while she was in the library. And she was in here just now. When I lifted the curtain she was beating it through that door. Not that it seems to be the answer to anything, but I thought you'd like t|p know.' 'You saw her leaving just now?' 'Yes, sir. Practicing, do you suppose?' 'I have no idea. As you say, it's her house. Since she would have been quite welcome--what's the matter, Mr. Dunn?' Dunn was looking queer. His jaw was working and his eyes were bulging, though his stare seemed to be directed nowhere in particular, certainly not at us. He muttered something unintelligible and stared around as if he expected to see something. Wolfe asked him again what was the matter.
