Rex Stout_Nero Wolfe 07

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Rex Stout_Nero Wolfe 07 Page 19

by Over My Dead Body


  With one hand gripping the edge of the desk hard enough to bleach the knuckles, he said, “Unh.” He looked as bewildered and terrified as a corpulent uncle who had been inveigled into taking a ride on the Ziparoo at Coney Island.

  I looked around. “Where is she?”

  He said, “Unh.”

  There were two doors besides the one I had entered by. I trotted across and opened one, and saw only gleaming tiles and a washbowl and sittery. I closed that and went and opened the other one, and looked into a small room with filing cabinets, a bookcase, and a de luxe secretary’s desk. The secretary sat there staring at me with big round blue eyes, and a more glittering stare was bestowed on me from a chair in a corner occupied by Carla Lovchen.

  She didn’t say anything, just goggled at me. My elbow was grabbed from behind, and I was agreeably surprised to find that Nat Driscoll could grip like that. I pulled away, and we were both inside the small room, and I shut the door.

  I demanded, “What did you figure on doing? Keeping her here till after the funeral?”

  Carla asked in a low tense voice, without altering her stare, “Where’s Neya?”

  “She’s all right. For a while anyhow. You were tailed to this building—”

  “Tailed?”

  “Shadowed. Followed by policemen. There are a dozen of them downstairs now, covering all the elevators and exits.”

  Driscoll dropped onto a chair and groaned. The blue-eyed secretary inquired in a cool business-like tone:

  “Are you Archie Goodwin of Nero Wolfe’s office?”

  “I am. Pleased to meet you.” I met Carla’s stare. “Did you kill Rudolph Faber?”

  “No.” A shiver ran over her, and she controlled it and sat rigid again.

  Driscoll mumbled at me, “You mean Ludlow. Percy Ludlow.”

  “Do I? I don’t.” I fired at the secretary, “What time did Driscoll get here this morning?”

  “Ask him,” she said icily.

  “I’m asking you. Let me tell you folks something. I may not be your best and dearest friend, but I’m quite a pal compared to the guys downstairs I mentioned. Otherwise I would have brought them up here. That can be done at any moment. What time did Driscoll get here this morning?”

  “About half past eleven.”

  “That was his first appearance here today?”

  “Yes.”

  “What time did he leave?”

  “He didn’t leave at all. He had some lunch brought in on account of Miss Lovchen.”

  “She got here at 11:20.”

  “Yes.” The secretary was getting no warmer. “How did you know that? How did you know she was here?”

  “Intuition. I’m an intuitive genius.” I shifted to Driscoll. “So you didn’t kill Faber, huh?”

  He stammered, “You mean … you must mean Ludlow—”

  “I mean Rudolph Faber. A little before noon today he was found in the apartment occupied by Neya Tormic and Carla Lovchen, lying on the floor dead. Stabbed. Miss Tormic and I went there looking for Miss Lovchen, and found him.”

  The secretary looked impressed. Driscoll’s eyes widened and his mouth stood open. I snapped at Carla:

  “He was there when you went there. Either alive or dead, or alive and then dead.”

  “I didn’t—I wasn’t there—”

  “Can it. What do you think this is, hide and seek? They were tailing you. You went in there at 11:05 and came out again at 11:15. Faber was there.”

  She shivered again. “I didn’t kill him.”

  “Was he there?”

  She shook her head and took a deep jerky breath. “I’m not … going to say anything. I am going away, away from America.” She clasped her hands at me. “Pliz you must help me! Mr. Driscoll would help me! Oh you must, you must—”

  Driscoll demanded in an improved voice, “You say Faber was there in her apartment stabbed to death?”

  “Yes.”

  “And she had just been there?”

  “She left there about thirty minutes before the body was found.”

  “Good God.” He stared at her. The secretary was staring at her too.

  I said briskly. “She says she didn’t do it. I don’t know. The immediate point is that Nero Wolfe wants to see her before the cops get hold of her. What were you going to do, help her get away?”

  Driscoll nodded. Then he shook his head. “I don’t know. Good God—she didn’t tell me about Faber. She said …” He flung out his hands. “Damn it, she appealed to me! She swore she had nothing to do with—Ludlow—but she didn’t need to! She has been damn fine with me down there—that fencing—greatest pleasure I ever had in my life—she has been damn fine and understanding! She is a very fine young woman! I would be proud to have her for a sister and I’ve told her so! Or daughter! Daughter would be better! She came here and appealed to me to help her get away from trouble, and by God I was doing it, and I didn’t consult any lawyer either! And by God I’ll still do it! Do you realize that she appealed to me? I don’t care if her apartment was as full of dead bodies as the morgue, that young woman is no damn murderer!”

  “I understand,” said the secretary with ice still in her voice box, “that it is perfectly legal to help anyone go anywhere they want to, provided they have not committed a crime.”

  “I don’t give a damn,” Driscoll declared, “whether it’s legal or not! To hell with legal!”

  “Okay.” I pushed a palm at him. “Don’t yell so loud. The point—”

  “I want you to understand—”

  “Pipe down! I understand everything. You’re a hero. Skip it. Here’s the way it stands. You can’t go ahead and send her on a world cruise, because to begin with you don’t stand a chance of getting her out of here and away, and to end with I won’t let you. Nero Wolfe wants to see her. Whatever Nero Wolfe wants he gets or he has a tantrum and I get fired. I have no idea whether she’s a very fine young woman or a murderer or what, but I do know that the next thing on her program is a talk with Nero Wolfe, and I’m in charge of the program.”

  “I suppose,” said the secretary crushingly, “that you stand a chance of getting her out of here.”

  “Chance is right,” I agreed grimly. “May I use your phone?”

  She pushed it across the desk and I asked the anteroom employee to get me a number. In a moment I had the connection.

  “Hello, Hotel Alexander? Let me talk to Ernie Flint. The house detective.”

  In two minutes I had him.

  “Hello, Ernie? Archie Goodwin. That’s right. How’s about things? Fine, thanks, everything rosy, I’m studying to be a detective. Not on your life. Say, listen, I’m pulling a stunt and I want you to do me a favor. Send a bellboy in uniform over to the Maidstone Building, Room 3259. Wait, get this. A small one, about five foot three, and not a fat one. With a cap on, don’t forget the cap. With a dark complexion if you’ve got one like that. Yep, dark hair and eyes. Good. Have him bring a parcel with him containing all his own clothes, everything, including hat. Right. Oh, not long. He can be back there within an hour, only you’ll have to give him another uniform. Oh, no. Just a stunt I’m pulling. I’m playing a trick on a feller. I’ll describe it when I see you. Make it snappy, will you, Ernie?”

  I rang off, took the expense roll from my pocket, peeled off a ten, and tendered it to the secretary. “Here, run down to the nearest store and get a pair of black low-heeled oxfords that will fit her. Like what a bellboy might wear. Step on it.”

  She looked critically at Carla’s feet. “Five?”

  Carla nodded. Driscoll told the secretary:

  “Give him back that money.” He got out his wallet and produced a twenty-dollar bill. “Here. Get a good pair.”

  She took it, handed me mine, and went. She may have been chilly, but she wasn’t a goof.

  Carla said, “I won’t go.”

  “Oh.” I looked at her. “You won’t?”

  “No.”

  “Would you rather go to police headquarter
s and entertain the homicide squad?”

  “I won’t—I want to go away. I must go away. Mr. Driscoll said he would help me.”

  “Yeah, well, he wasn’t quick enough on his feet. Even after all his fencing lessons. Anyway, you would have been nabbed downstairs. Do you realize at all the kind of spot you’re inhabiting right now?”

  “I realize—” She stopped to make her voice work. “I’m in a terrible fix. Oh—terrible! You don’t know how terrible!”

  “Wrong again. I do know. Would I be staging a damn fool stunt like this to get you to Nero Wolfe if I didn’t?”

  “It won’t do any good to take me to Nero Wolfe. I won’t talk to him. I won’t talk to anybody.”

  Driscoll went over and stood in front of her. “Look here, Miss Lovchen,” he said, “I don’t think that’s a sensible attitude. If you don’t want to talk to the police, I can understand that. You may have a reason that’s absolutely commendable. But sooner or later you’ll have to talk to somebody, and if you’re not careful it will be a lawyer, and then you are up against it. From what I have heard of this Nero Wolfe …”

  He was still jabbering away when the phone announced that the bellboy was in the anteroom.

  I shooed Driscoll and Carla into Driscoll’s room and had the bellboy sent in to me. He looked about right, maybe an inch taller than her, but not too skinny or too husky. He was grinning because he could see it was a good joke. I opened the parcel for him while he took his uniform off, and handed him a couple of dollars and told him:

  “Put your clothes on and sit here. It’s a nice view from the window. Maybe twenty minutes. A blue-eyed girl will come and tell you when to go. Return to the hotel and they’ll give you another uniform to work in. That two bucks was just for your trouble. Here’s a finif if its effect will be to keep your trap entirely closed regarding the fun we’re having. Okay?”

  He said it was, and sounded believable. I gave him the five-spot, gathered up the uniform and cap and wrapping paper, and went to the other room, shutting him in.

  Carla, on the edge of the chair, and the secretary, kneeling on the rug in front of her, were busy getting her shoes changed, while Driscoll, with his lips screwed up and his hands in his pockets, gazed down at the operation. Carla stood up and stamped, and said they were all right. I handed the uniform to her and said go ahead but she would have to take off her clothes or it would look bunchy, and told Driscoll:

  “Turn your back.”

  He blushed rosy. “I … I can go in there—”

  “I forgot you’re modest. Suit yourself. Back-turning will do me.”

  He went and looked through a window, and I, facing the same way, regarded him suspiciously. It was getting dark outdoors and the lights were on in the room, and under those circumstances a windowpane is a fairly good mirror. I admit I may have been doing him an injustice. I spread the wrapping paper out on his desk and, when the secretary handed me Carla’s clothes, including coat and hat, made a bundle and got it tied up.

  The secretary said, “Look, it’s tight around under the arms.”

  I looked. “Naturally. What would you expect? I think it’ll do. Walk to the door and back.” Carla walked. I frowned. “The hips are bad. I mean they’re good, but you understand me. Put the cap on … No, you’ll have to stuff the hair under better than that. There by the left ear. That’s it. I believe we’ll make it. What do you think?”

  The secretary said coldly, “I hope so. It’s your idea.”

  Driscoll crabbed, “It’s no good. I’d know her across the street.”

  “Oh,” I said sarcastically, “we wouldn’t try to fool you. There’s hundreds of people going and coming in that lobby and why should they be interested in a bellboy? Anyway, we’ll take a shot at it.” I got the parcel under my arm and confronted Carla. “Now. We have nothing to fear on this floor. We’ll go down in the same elevator. You’ll leave the elevator before me at the main floor. Walk straight to the Lexington Avenue entrance and on out, and don’t look behind or around. I’ll be following you all right. Turn right and keep going on across 43rd Street. Between 43rd and 42nd there’ll be taxis at the curb. Hop into one and tell the driver to take you to 37th Street and Tenth Avenue—”

  The secretary put in an oar: “You’ll be with her—”

  “I’ll be behind her in another taxi. There’s a chance that one of those birds in the lobby knows me and will be curious enough to follow me out, in which case I don’t want to be seen going for a ride with a bellboy, especially a bellboy with hips. 37th Street and Tenth Avenue. Got that?”

  Carla nodded.

  “Okay. Stay there in the taxi till I come. I’ll probably be right behind you, but you stay there. If you try a trick, you’re done. Every cop in New York is looking for you. Understand?”

  “Yes, but I want—I must—”

  “What you want is a different matter entirely, like the guy that fell out of the airplane. Will you go to that corner and stay there in the taxi?”

  “Yes.”

  “Right. Good-bye, folks. In ten minutes, not sooner, send the bellboy home. I’ll take you on with the epee some day, Driscoll.”

  He looked as if he was about ready to cry as he shook hands with her. The secretary looked as arctic as ever, but I noticed her voice was a little husky as she wished Carla good luck.

  We departed. As she went along the corridor ahead of me on the way to the elevator, she looked kind of preposterous, but of course I saw not only what I saw but also what I knew. The other passengers in the elevator gave her a glance or two, but nothing alarming. At the main floor she preceded me out and marched through the lobby, dodging as necessary in the crowd, and it began to look like everything was jake when a call came from my right:

  “Hey, Goodwin! Archie!”

  Chapter 17

  It was Sergeant Purley Stebbins coming at me. The danger was Carla, but for once she acted as if she had some brains. She certainly heard my name called, but she didn’t scream or stop and turn around or break into a run. She just kept on going to the entrance. I saw that out of the corner of my eye as I greeted Purley with a hearty grin.

  “Well, well, well!”

  “It may be,” he growled. “What are you doing here?”

  I looked around stealthily to guard against eavesdroppers, put my mouth within two inches of his big red ear, and whispered into it, “None of your goddam business.”

  He grunted, “It’s quite a coincidence.”

  “What is?”

  “Your being here in this building.”

  I tapped him on the chest. “Now that’s funny.”

  “What’s funny?”

  “Your saying it’s quite a coincidence. It’s funny because that’s exactly what I was going to say. Mind if I say it? It’s quite a coincidence.”

  “Go to hell.”

  “Same to you and many of them. May I ask, what are you doing in this building?” I glanced around. “You and all your playmates.”

  “Go to hell.”

  “How’s the roads?”

  “Whatta you got in the bundle?”

  “Revolvers, daggers, narcotics, smuggled jewels, and a bottle of blood. Want to look at it?”

  “Go to hell.”

  I shrugged politely, told him I’d meet him at the corner of Fire and Brimstone, and left him.

  That was okay. But the danger was, with Carla having such a fixed idea about going away from America, that she might be keeping her promise and she might not. Even so, I didn’t jump into a taxi at the entrance. I hoofed it to the corner and popped into Bigger’s drugstore and stood there. Since it had another exit on 43rd, anyone Purley sent on my tail would either have to pop in after me or make it to the turn in a hurry where he could see both doors. No one did that. I left by 43rd, crossed the street and entered Grand Central the back way, did another maneuver in the smoking room to make doubly sure, went out to Madison Avenue, jumped into a taxi, and sat on the edge of the seat with my fingers crossed and sweat
on my brow until we got to the rendezvous and I saw she was there.

  I dismissed my taxi, went to hers and opened the door and beckoned her out, paid the driver and sent him off, and waited until he had rounded the corner out of sight before I steered her down the sidewalk to where I had parked the roadster. She wasn’t having anything to say. I told her to climb in and handed her the bundle.

  It was only a matter of three minutes across to Ninth, down to 34th, and west to the middle of the block. The day was gone and I stopped at a distance from a street light, shut off the engine, and told her:

  “There’s an assortment of cops in front of Wolfe’s house, so we’re going in the back way. Follow me and don’t say anything after we get inside the house. Just stay behind me.”

  “I must know …” Her voice quavered and she stopped. In a moment she went on, “I must know one thing. Is Neya there?”

  “I don’t know. She wasn’t when I left.”

  “Where was she?”

  “Police headquarters. Not under arrest, they were questioning her and she wasn’t answering. They may have brought her to Wolfe’s house or they may not. I don’t know. Inspector Cramer is there with Wolfe.”

  “But you said I would only have to see Mr. Wolfe—”

  “I said Wolfe wants to talk with you first. Come on.”

  I got out and went around to her side and opened the door. She had her teeth sunk into her lip. She sat that way a minute, then climbed out and followed me. I led her down the sidewalk to the entrance to the passageway between a warehouse building and a garage, and along the dark passage until we came to the door in the board fence. It was the door Zorka had used after her trip down the fire escape, only from the inside she had only needed to turn the knob of the spring lock, whereas I had to use my key. I guided her across the court and up the steps to the little porch, and used another key, and entered the kitchen ahead of her. No one was in there but Fritz.

  He stared at me. “Now, Archie, you ought to tap—”

  “Okay. I forgot. No cause for alarm. Keep Miss Lovchen here on the quiet for about four minutes till I get back.”

  He stared again, at her. “Miss Lovchen?”

 

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