won't—”
“Forget it. Nora's all right. You started to tell me about your conversation with Wynant.”
“He phoned right after the police left and said he'd seen the ad in the Times and wanted to know what I wanted. I told him you weren't anxious to get yourself mixed up in his troubles and had said you wouldn't touch it at all without talking it over with him first, and we made the date for tonight. Then he asked if I'd seen Mimi and I told him I'd seen her once or twice since her return from Europe and had also seen his daughter. And then he said this: 'If my wife should ask for money, give her any sum in reason.'”
“I'll be damned,” I said.
Macaulay nodded. “That's the way I felt about it. I asked him why and he said what he'd read in the morning papers had convinced him that she was Rosewater's dupe, not his confederate, and he had reason to believe she was 'kindly disposed' towards him, Wynant. I began to see what he was up to, then, and I told him she had already turned the knife and chain over to the police. And try to guess what he said to that.”
“I give up.”
“He hemmed and hawed a bit—not much, mind you—and then as smooth as you like asked: 'You mean the chain and knife on the watch I left with Julia to be repaired?'”
I laughed. “What'd you say?”
“That stumped me. Before I could think up an answer he was saying: 'However, we can discuss that more fully when we meet tonight.' I asked him where and when we'd meet him and he said he'd have to phone me, he didn't know where he'd be. He's to phone me at my house at ten o'clock. He was in a hurry now, though he had seemed leisurely enough before, and hadn't time to answer any of the things I wanted to ask, so he hung up and I phoned you. What do you think of his innocence now?”
“Not as much as I did,” I replied slowly. “How sure are you of hearing from him at ten tonight?”
Macaulay shrugged. “You know as much about that as I do.”
“Then if I were you I wouldn't bother the police till we've grabbed our wihd man and can turn him over to them. This story of yours isn't going to make them exactly love you and, even if they don't throw you in the can right away, they'll make things pretty disagreeable for you if Wynant gives us a run-around tonight.”
“I know, but I'd like to get the load off my shoulders.”
“A few hours more oughtn't to matter much,” I said. “Did either of you say anything about his not keeping the date at the Plaza?”
“No. I didn't get a chance to ask him. Well, if you say wait, I'll wait, but—”
“Let's wait till tonight, anyhow, till he phones you—if he does—and then we can make up our minds whether to take the police along.”
“You don't think he'll phone?”
“I'm not too sure,” I said. “He didn't keep his last date with you, and he seems to have gone pretty vague on you as soon as he learned that Mimi had turned in the watch-chain and knife. I wouldn't be too optimistic about it. We'll see, though. I'd better get out to your house at about nine o'clock, hadn't I?”
“Come for dinner.”
“I can't, but I'll make it as early as I can, in case he's ahead of time. We'll want to move fast. Where do you live?”
Macaulay gave me his address, in Scarsdale, and stood up. “Will you say good-by to Mrs. Charles for me and thank— Oh, by the way, I hope you didn't misunderstand me about Harrison Quinn last night. I meant only just what I said, that I'd had bad luck taking his advice on the market. I didn't mean to insinuate that there was anything—you know—or that he might not've made money for his other customers.”
“I understand,” I said, and called Nora.
She and Macaulay shook hands and made polite speeches to each other and he pushed Asta around a little and said, “Make it as early as you can,” to me and went away.
“There goes the hockey game,” I said, “unless you find somebody else to go with.”
“Did I miss anything?” Nora asked.
“Not much.” I told her what Macaulay had told me. “And don't ask me what I think of it. I don't know. I know Wynant's crazy, but he's not acting like a crazy man and he's not acting like a murderer. He's acting like a man playing some kind of game. God only knows what the game is.”
“I think,” she said, “that he's shielding somebody else.”
“Why don't you think he did it?”
She looked surprised. “Because you don't.”
I said that was a swell reason. “Who is the somebody else?”
“I don't know yet. Now don't make fun of me: I've thought about it a lot. It wouldn't be Macaulay, because he's using him to help shield whoever it is and—”
“And it wouldn't be me,” I suggested, “because he wants to use me.”
“That's right,” she said, “and you're going to feel very silly if you make fun of me and then I guess who it is before you do. And it wouldn't be either Mimi or Jorgensen, because he tried to throw suspicion on them. And it wouldn't be Nunheim, because he was most likely killed by the same person and, furthermore, wouldn't have to be shielded now. And it wouldn't be Morelli, because Wynant was jealous of him and they'd had a row.” She frowned at me. “I wish you'd found out more about that big fat man they called Sparrow and that big red-haired woman.”
“But how about Dorothy and Gilbert?”
“I wanted to ask you about them. Do you think he's got any very strong paternal feeling for them?”
“No.”
“You're probably just trying to discourage me,” she said. “Well, knowing them, it's hard to think either of them might've been guilty, but I tried to throw out my personal feelings and stick to logic. Before I went to sleep last night I made a list of all the—”
“There's nothing like a little logic-sticking to ward off insomnia. It's like—”
“Don't be so damned patronizing. Your performance so far has been a little less than dazzling.”
“I didn't mean no harm,” I said and kissed her. “That a new dress?”
“Ah! Changing the subject, you coward.”
27
I went to see Guild early in the afternoon and went to work on him as soon as we had shaken hands. “I didn't bring my lawyer along. I thought it looked better if I came by myself.”
He wrinkled his forehead and shook his head as if I had hurt him. “Now it was nothing like that,” he said patiently.
“It was too much like that.”
He sighed. “I wouldn't've thought you'd make the mistake that a lot of people make thinking just because we— You know we got to look at every angle, Mr. Charles.”
“That sounds familiar. Well, what do you want to know?”
“All I want to know is who killed her—and him.”
“Try asking Gilbert,” I suggested.
Guild pursed his lips. “Why him exactly?”
“He told his sister he knew who did it, told her he got it from Wynant.”
“You mean he's been seeing the old man?”
“So she says he said. I haven't had a chance to ask him about it.”
He squinted his watery eyes at me. “Just what is that lay-out over there, Mr. Charles?”
“The Jorgensen family? You probably know as much about it as I do.”
“I don't,” he said, “and that's a fact. I just can't size them up at all. This Mrs. Jorgensen, now, what is she?”
“A blonde.”
He nodded gloomily. “Uh-huh, and that's all I know. But look,. you've known them a long time and from what she says you and her—”
