Rex Stout - And be a Villian

“We could insert it again and add that. Or we could offer a reward for anyone who would give us the name of an Orchard or Poole subscriber.”

No reply.

“Or I could go up to the Fraser apartment and get into conversation with the bunch, and who knows?”

“Yes. Do so.”

I looked at him suspiciously. He meant it.

“Now?”

“Yes.”

“You sure are hard up when you start taking suggestions from me.”

I pulled the phone to me and dialled the number. It was Bill Meadows who answered, and he sounded anything but gay, even when he learned it was me. After a brief talk, however, I was willing to forgive him. I hung up and informed Wolfe: “I guess I'll have to postpone it. Miss Fraser and Miss Koppel are both out.

Bill was a little vague, but I gather that the latter has been tagged by the city authorities for some reason or other, and the former is engaged in trying to remove the tag. Maybe she needs help. Why don't I find out?”

“I don't know. You might try.”

I turned and dialled Watkins 9-8241. Inspector Cramer wasn't available, but I got someone just as good, or sometimes I think even better, Sergeant Stebbins.

“I need some information,” I told him, “in connection with this fee you folks are earning for Mr Wolfe.”

“So do we,” he said frankly. “Got any?”

“Not right now. Mr Wolfe and I are in conference. How did Miss Koppel hurt your feelings, and where is she, and if you see Miss Fraser give her my love.”

He let out a roar of delight. Purley doesn't laugh often, at least when he's on duty, and I resented it. I waited until I thought he might hear me and then demanded: “What the hell is so funny?”

“I never expected the day to come,” he declared. “You calling me to ask where your client is. What's the matter, is Wolfe off his feed?”

“I know another one even better. Call me back when you're through laughing.”

“I'm through. Haven't you heard what the Koppel dame did?”

“No. I only know what you tell me.”

“Well, this isn't loose yet. We may want to keep it a while if we can. I don't know.”

“I'll help to keep it. So will Mr Wolfe.”

“That's understood?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. Of course they've all been told not to leave the jurisdiction. This morning Miss Koppel took a cab to La Guardia. She was nabbed as she was boarding the nine o'clock plane for Detroit. She says she wanted to visit her sick mother in Fleetville, which is eighty miles from Detroit. But she didn't ask permission to go, and the word we get is that her mother is no sicker than she has been for a year. So we charged her as a material witness. Does that strike you as high-handed? Do you think it calls for a shakeup?”

“Get set for another laugh. Where's Miss Fraser?”

“With her lawyer at the D A's office discussing bail.”

“What kind of reasons have you got for Miss Koppel taking a trip that are any better than hers?”

“I wouldn't know. Now you're out of my class. If you want to go into details like that, Wolfe had better ask the Inspector.”

I tried another approach or two, but either Purley had given me all there was or the rest was in another drawer which he didn't feel like opening. I hung up and relayed the news to Wolfe.

He nodded as if it were no concern of his. I glared at him: “It wouldn't interest you to have one or both of them stop in for a chat on their way home? To ask why Miss Koppel simply had to go to Michigan would be vulgar curiosity?”

“Bah. The police are asking, aren't they?” Wolfe was bitter. “I've spent countless hours with those people, and got something for it only when I had a whip to snap. Why compound futility? I need another whip. Call those newspapers again.”

“Am I still to go up there? After the ladies get home?”

“You might as well.”

“Yeah.” I was savage. “At least I can compound some futility.”

I phoned all three papers. Nothing. Being in no mood to sit and concentrate on germination records, I announced that I was going out for a walk, and Wolfe nodded absently. When I got back it was after four o'clock and he had gone up to the plant rooms. I fiddled around, finally decided that I might as well concentrate on something and the germination records were all I had, and got Theodore's reports from the drawer, but then I thought why not throw away three more nickels. So I started dialling again.

Herald-Tribune, nothing. News, nothing. But the Gazette girl said yes, they had one. The way I went for my hat and headed for Tenth Avenue to grab a taxi, you might have thought I was on my way to a murder.

The driver was a philosopher. “You don't see many eager happy faces like yours nowadays,3 he told me.

“I'm on my way to my wedding.”

He opened his mouth to speak again, then clamped it shut. He shook his head resolutely. “No. Why should I spoil it?”

I paid him off outside the Gazette building and went in and got my prize. It was a square pale-blue envelope, and the printed return on the flap said:

Mrs W. T. Michaels 890 East End Avenue

New York City 28 Inside was a single sheet matching the envelope, with small neat handwriting on it:

BOX P304:

Regarding your advertisement, I am not a former subscriber to either of the publications, but I may be able to tell you something. You may write me, or call Lincoln 3-4808, but do not phone before ten in the morning or after five-thirty in the afternoon. That is important.

Hilda Michaels.

It was still forty minutes this side of her deadline, so I went straight to a booth and dialled the number. A female voice answered. I asked to speak to Mrs Michaels.

“This is Mrs Michaels.”

“This is the Gazette advertiser you wrote to, BOX P304. I've just read- “What's your name?” She had a tendency to snap.

“My name is Goodwin, Archie Goodwin. I can be up there in fifteen minutes or less-”

“No, you can't. Anyway, you'd better not. Are you connected with the Police Department?”

“No. I work for Nero Wolfe. You may have heard of Nero Wolfe, the detective?”

“Of course. This isn't a convent. Was that his advertisement?”

“Yes.He-”

“Then why didn't he phone me?”

“Because I just got your note. I'm phoning from a booth in the Gazette building.

You said not-”

“Well, Mr Goodman, I doubt if I can tell Mr Wolfe anything he would be interested in. I really doubt it.”

“Maybe not,” I conceded. “But he would be the best judge of that. If you don't want me to come up there, how would it be if you called on Mr Wolfe at his office? West Thirty-fifth Street-it's in the phone book. Or I could run up now in a taxi and-”

“Oh, not now. Not today. I might be able to make it tomorrow-or Friday-”

I was annoyed. For one thing, I would just as soon be permitted to finish a sentence once in a while, and for another, apparently she had read the piece about Wolfe being hired to work on the Orchard case, and my name had been in it, and it had been spelled correctly. So I took on weight: “You don't seem to realize what you've done, Mrs Michaels. You-”

“Why, what have I done?”

“You have landed smack in the middle of a murder case. Mr Wolfe and the police are more or less collaborating on it. He would like to see you about the matter mentioned in his advertisement, not tomorrow or next week, but quick. I think you ought to see him. If you try to put it off because you've begun to regret sending this note he'll be compelled to consult the police, and then what? Then you'll-”

“I didn't say I regret sending the note.”

“No, but the way you-”

“I'll be at Mr Wolf e's office by six o'clock.”

“Good! Shall I come-”

I might have known better than to give her another chance to chop me off. She said that she was quite capable of getting herself transported, and I could well believe it.

Chapter Seventeen There was nothing snappy about her appearance. The mink coat, and the dark red woollen dress made visible when the coat had been spread over the back of the red leather chair, unquestionably meant well, but she was not built to co-operate with clothes. There was too much of her and the distribution was all wrong. Her face was so well padded that there was no telling whether there were any bones underneath, and the creases were considerably more than skin deep. I didn't like her. From Wolfe's expression it was plain, to me, that he didn't like her. As for her, it was a safe bet that she didn't like anybody.

Wolfe rustled the sheet of pale-blue paper, glanced at it again, and looked at her. “You say here, madam, that you may be able to tell me something. Your caution is understandable and even commendable. You wanted to find out who had placed the advertisement before committing yourself. Now you know. There is no need-”

“That man threatened me,” she snapped. That's not the way to get me to tell something-if I have something to tell.”

“I agree…Mr Goodwin is headstrong-Archie, withdraw the threat.”

I did my best to grin at her as man to woman. 1 take it back, Mrs Michaels. I was so anxious - “If I tell you anything,” she said to Wolfe, ignoring me, “it will be because I want to, and it will be completely confidential. Whatever you do about it, of course I have nothing to say about that, but you will give me your solemn word of honour that my name will not be mentioned to anyone. No one is to know I wrote you or came to see you or had anything to do with it.”

Wolfe shook his head. “Impossible. Manifestly impossible. You are not a fool, madam, and I won't try to treat you as if you were. It is even conceivable that you might have to take the witness stand in a murder trial. I know nothing about it, because I don't know what you have to tell. Then how could I-”

“All right,” she said, surrendering. “I see I made a mistake. I must be home by seven o'clock. Here's what I have to tell you: somebody I know was a subscriber to that What to Expect that was published by that woman, Beula Poole. I distinctly remember, one day two or three months ago, I saw a little stack of them somewhere-in some house or apartment or office. I've been trying to remember where it was, and I simply can't I wrote you because I thought you might tell me something that would make me remember, and I'm quite willing to try, but I doubt if it will do any good.”

“Indeed.” Wolfe's expression was fully as sour as hers. “I said you're not a fool. I suppose you're prepared to stick to that under any circum-”

“Yes, I am.”

“Even if Mr Goodwin gets headstrong again and renews his threat?”

“That!” She was contemptuous.

“It's very thin, Mrs Michaels. Even ridiculous. That you would go to the bother of answering that advertisement, and coming down here-”

“I don't mind being ridiculous.”

Then I have no alternative.” Wolfe's lips tightened. He released them. “I accept your conditions. I agree, for myself and for Mr Goodwin, who is my agent, that we will not disclose the source of our information, and that we will do our utmost to keep anyone from learning it. Should anyone ascertain it, it will be against our will and in spite of our precautions in good faith. We cannot guarantee, we can only promise, and we do so.”

Her eyes had narrowed. “On your solemn word of honour.”

“Good heavens. That ragged old patch? Very well. My solemn word of honour.

Archie?”

“My solemn word of honour,” I said gravely.

Her head made an odd ducking movement, reminding me of a fat-cheeked owl I had seen at the Zoo getting ready to swoop on a mouse.