Part 10 (2/2)

I said, ”It took brains to think up one as good as that.” Wolfe looked at Orrie, shut his eyes for a few seconds, and opened them again. He said: ”There are no ubiquitous handkerchiefs in this collection. Mr. Chapin is an epicure. Archie. Repack the box, with feeling, lock it, wrap it up, and find a place for it in the cabinet. Orrie, you may resume; you know your instructions.

You have not brought us the solution of our case, but you have lifted the curtain to another room of the edifice we are exploring. Telephone at five after six as usual.” ^ Orrie went down the hall whistling.

'y

12.

I had a nice piece of leather of my own, not as big as Paul Chapin's treasure box, but fancier. Sitting at my desk around five o'clock that Wednesday afternoon, killing time waiting for a visitor who had phoned, I took it out of my inside breast pocket and looked at it; I had only had it a couple of weeks. It was brown, ostrichskin, and was tooled in gold all over the outside. On one side the tooling was fine lines about half an inch apart, with flowers stemming out from them; the flowers were orchids; the workmans.h.i.+p was so good that you could tell Wolfe had given the guy a Cattleya to work from.

The other side was covered with Colt automatics, fifty-two perfect little gold Pistols all aiming at the center. Inside was stamped in gold: A. G. from N. W. Wolfe had given it to me on October 23rd, at the dinnertable, and I didn^t even know he knew when my birthday was. I carried my police and fire cards in it, and my operators license. I might have traded it for New York City if you had thrown in a couple of good suburbs.

When Fritz came and said Inspector Cramer was there I put it back in my pocket.

I let Cramer get eased into a chair and then I went upstairs to the plantrooms.

Wolfe was at the potting-bench with Horstmann, spreading out some osmundine and leaning over to smell it; a dozen or so pots of Odontoglossums, overgrown, were at his elbow. I waited until he looked around, and I felt my throat drying up.

”Well?”

I swallowed. ”Cramer's downstairs. The rugged Inspector.” ^ ”What of it? You heard me speaking to him on the telephone.”

f'Look here,” I said, ”I want this distinctly understood. I came up here only for one reason, because I thought maybe r^ you had changed your mind and would like to see him. Yes or no will do it. If you give me a bawling out it will be nothing but pure childishness. You know what I think.”

I Wolfe opened his eyes a little wider, winked the left one at me, twice, and , * turned to face the potting-bench again. ^ All I could see was his broad back that might have been something in a Macy Thanksgiving Day parade. He said to Horstmann: o ”This will do. Get the charcoal. No _ sphagnum, I think.” r I went back down to the office and told Cramer, ”Mr. Wolfe can't come down.

He's too infirm.” The Inspector laughed. ”I didn't expect

him to. I've known Nero Wolfe longer than you have, sonny. You don't suppose I thought I was going to tear any secrets M^ out of him? Anything he would tell me he

has already told you. Can I light a pipe?”

”Shoot. Wolfe hates it. To h.e.l.l with him.”

H ”What's this, you staging on me?”

Cramer packed his pipe, held a match to it, and puffed. ”You don't... need to.

Did Wolfe tell you what... I told him on the phone?” I heard it.” I patted my notebook.

”I've got it down.”

”The h.e.l.l you have. Okay. I don't want George Pratt riding me, I'm too old to enjoy it. What went on here night before last?”

I grinned. ”Just what Wolfe told you.

That's all. He closed a little contract.”

”Is it true that he nicked Pratt for four thousand dollars?”

”He didn't nick anybody. He offered something for sale, and they gave him the .order.” ^ ”Yeah.” He puffed. ”You know Pratt?

Pratt thinks that it's funny that he has to sh.e.l.l out to a private d.i.c.k when the city maintains such a magnificent force of brave and intelligent men to cope with such problems. He said cope. I was there. He was talking to the Deputy Commissioner.”

”Indeed.” I bit my lip. I always felt like a sap when I caught myself imitating Wolfe. ”Maybe he was referring to the Department of Health. That never occurred to me before, a cop coping.”

Cramer grunted. He sat back and looked at the vase of orchids, and pulled at his pipe. Pretty soon he said: (I had a funny experience this afternoon. A woman called up downtown and said she wanted Nero Wolfe arrested because he had tried to cut her throat.

They put her onto me because they knew I had Wolfe in mind about this case. I said I'd send a man up to get the details and she gave me her name and address. You could have flipped me cold with a rubber band when I heard it.”

I said, ”That's a hot one. I wonder who it could have been.”

”Sure you do. I'll bet you're puzzled.

Then a couple of hours later a guy came to see me. By invitation. He was a taxidriver.

He said that no matter how much diversion it offered he didn't care to take the rap for perjury, and that he saw blood on her when she got in his cab on Perry Street. That was one of the things I was wanting to mention to Wolfe on the Phone, but the picture in my mind's eye of him slicing a lady's gullet was so d.a.m.n remarkable that I didn't get it out.” He puffed at his pipe, lit a match, and got it going again. He went on, more forceful and rugged. ”Look here, Goodwin. What the h.e.l.l's the idea? I've tried that Chapin woman three times, and I couldn't get her to break down enough to tell me what her name was. She put on the clamp and left it. Wolfe gets in the case late Monday night, and here already, Wednesday morning, she's chasing up to his office to show him her operation. What the h.e.l.l is it about him that gets them coming like that?”

I grinned. ”It's his sympathetic nature, inspector.”

”Yeah. Who carved her neck?”

”Search me. She told you, Wolfe. Pull him in and give him the works.”

”Was it Chapin?”

I shook my head. ”If I know that secret, it's buried here.” I tapped my chest. I i ”Much obliged. Now listen to me. I'm being serious. Am I on the level?”

”Absolutely.” (I am?”; ”You know d.a.m.n well you are.” ”Okay. Then I'm telling you, I didn't come here to lift the silver. I've been after Chapin more than six weeks, ever since Dreyer was croaked, and what I've got on him is exactly nothing. Maybe he killed Harrison, and I'm d.a.m.n sure he killed Dreyer, and it looks like he got Hibbard, and he's got me feeling like a Staten Island flatfoot. He's as slick as a wet pavement. Right in a courtroom he confesses he committed murder, and the judge fines him fifty bucks for contempt of court! Later I find that he mentioned it beforehand to his publisher, as a publicity stunt! Covered everywhere. Is he slick?”

I nodded. ”He's slick.”

”Yes. Well, I've tried this and that. For one thing, I've got it figured that his wife hates him and she's afraid of him, and probably she knows enough about it to fill out a hand for us, if we could get her to spill it. So when I heard that she had dashed up here to see Wolfe, I naturally surmised that he had learned things. And I want to say this. You don't need to tell me a d.a.m.n thing if you don't want to.

Pm not trying to horn in. But whatever you got out of that Chapin woman, maybe you can make better use of it if you see whether it fits a few pieces Pve got hold of, and you're welcome -”

”But, inspector. Wait a minute. If you think she came here friendly, to dump the can, how do you account for her calling up to get Wolfe arrested?” ”

”Now, sonny.” Cramer's sharp eyes twinkled at me. ”Didn't I say I've known Nero Wolfe longer than you have? If he wanted me to think she hadn't got confidential with him, that would be .about exactly what he would tell her to do.”

I laughed. While I was laughing it occurred to me that it wouldn't do any particular harm if Cramer continued to nurse that notion, so I laughed some more. I said, ”He might, he sure might, but he didn't. Why she phoned you to arrest him wait till I get a chance to tell Wolfe about it why, she did that, she's psychopathic. So's her husband. They're both psychopathic.

That's Park Avenue for batty.”, Cramer nodded. ”I've heard the word.

We've got a department oh, well...”

”And you're d.a.m.n sure he killed Dreyer.”

He nodded again. ”I think Dreyer was murdered by Paul Chapin and Leopold Elkus.”

”You don't say!” I looked at him.

”That might turn out to be right. Elkus, huh?”

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