by Rex Stout
I set my jaw. I was full of both feelings and words, but I knew they had to be held in. This was not for me. This was far and away the worst Cramer had ever pulled. It was up to Wolfe. I looked at him. The blood had gone back down again; he was white With fury, and his mouth was pressed to so tight a line that there we^nolips.
“It’s routine,” Cramer said aggressively. Wolfe said icily, “That’s a lie. It is not routine.” “It’s my routine—in a ease like this. Your office is not just an office. Ifs the place where more fancy tricks have been played than any other spot in New York. When a woman is murdered there, soon after a talk with Goodwin far which we have no word but his, I say sealing”it is routine.”
womb’s head came forward an inch, his chin out. ?Nb; Mr. Cramer. Ffl te^ you what it is. It is the malefic spite of a sullen little soul and a crabbed and envious mind. It is the childish rancor of a primacy too often1 challenged and offended. It is the feeble wrig
The door came open to let Mrs. Orwin in.
Curtains for Three 179
Mrs. Carlisle the husband had come along. With .Orwin it was the son. His expression and manner * so different I would hardly have known him. Up his tone had been mean and his face had been Now his narrow little eyes were doing their st to look frank and cordial and one of the , He leaned across the table at Cramer, extending
Cramer? I’ve been hearing about you s! I’m Eugene Orwin.” He glanced to his right, already had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Wolfe Mr. Goodwill—earlier today, before this terrible ; happened. It is terrible.” ifes,” Cramer agreed. “Sit down.” will in a moment. I do better with words standI would like to make a statement on behalf of tier and myself, and I hope you’ll permit it. I’m of the bar. My mother is not feeling well At st of your men she went in with me to idene body of Miss Brown, and it was a bad shock, e’ve been detained now more than two hours.” i mother’s appearance corroborated him. Sitting i her head propped on a hand and her eyes closed, ily she didn’t care as much about the impression made on the inspector as her son did. It was whether she was paying any attention to her son was saying.
|A statement would be welcome,” Cramer told him, es relevant.”
thought so,” Gene said approvingly. “So many I have an entirely wrong idea of police methods! i you know that Miss Brown came here today mother’s guest, and therefore it might be sup 180 Rex Stoat
posed that my mother knows her well But actually she doesn’t. That’s what I want to make clear.”
“Go ahead.”
Gene glanced at the shorthand dick. “If it’s taken down J3^c(ifld like to go over it when convenient.”
“You Sway.”
“Then here are the facts. In January my mother was in Florida. You meet all kinds hi Florida. My mother met a man who called himself Colonel Percy Brown^-a British colonel in the Reserve, he said. Later On he introduced his sister Cynthia to her. My mother saw a great deal of them. My father is dead, and the estate, a rather large one, is in her control. She lent Brown some money—not much; that was just an opener. A week ago—”
Mrs. Orwin’s head jerked up. “It was only five thousand dollars, and I didn’t promise him anything,” she said wearily, and propped her head on her hand
“AHbright, Mother.” Gene patted her shoulder, “A week ago she returned to New York, and they;came albn|f;The first time I met them I thought they were impostors. He didn’t Sound like an Englishman, and certainly she didn’t. They weren’t very free with family details, but from them and Mother, chiefly Mother, I got enough to inquire about and sent a cable to London. I got a reply Saturday and another one this morning, and there was more than enough to confirm my suspicion, but not nearly enough to put it up to my mother. When she likes people she can be very stubborn about them—not a bad trait, not at all; I don’t want to be misunderstood and I don’t want her to be. I was thinking it over, what step to take next. Meanwhile, I thought it best not to let them be alone with her if I could help hv-as yon see, I’m being utterly
Curtains for Three 181
That’s why I came here with them today—my is a member of that flower club; I’m no gar
myself.” lis tone implied a low opinion of male gardeners,
was none too bright if his idea was to get solid ; Wolfe as well as Cramer. le turned a palm up. “That’s what brought me My mother came to see the orchids, and she in! Brown and his sister to come simply because she
i-hearted. But actually she doesn’t know them,
*‘knows nothing about them, because what they ‘ told her is one thing and what they really are i��� else. Then this happened, and in the past
*, after she recovered a little from the shock of ; taken in there to identify the corpse, I have ex
to her what the situation is.” s put his hands on the table and leaned on them, at Cramer. “I’m going to be quite frank, In or. Under the circumstances, I can’t see that it serve any useful purpose to let it be published thai woman came here with nay mother. What would it do? How would it further the cause of e? I want to make it perfectly dear that we have to evade our responsibility as citizens. Bat would it help to get my mother’s name in the aes?” He straightened, backed up a step, and looked af
ately at Mother, frames in headlines aren’t what I’m after” ner told him, “but I don’t run the newspapers. If re already got it I can’t stop them. I’d like to say I your frankness. So you only met Miss i a week ago. How many times had you seen her
rr . ‘ ‘ - ‘ ‘Three times, Gene said. Cramer had plenty of ques
182 Bex Stout
tions for both mother and son. It was in the middle of them that Wolfe passed me a slip of paper on which he had scribbled:
Tell Fritz to bring sandwiches and coffee for you and me. Also for those left in the front room. No one else. Of course Saul and Theodore.
I left the room, found Fritz in the kitchen, delivered the message, and returned.
Gene stayed cooperative to the end, and Mrs. Orwin tried, though it was an effort They said they had been together all the time, which I happened to know wasn’t so, having seen them separated at least twice during the afternoon—and Cramerdid too, since I had told him. They said a lot of other things, among them that they hadn’t left the plant rooms between their arrival arid their departure with Wolfe; that they had stayed until most of the others were gone because Mrs. Orwin wanted to persuade Wolfe to sell her some plants; that Colonel Brown had wandered off by himself once or twice; that they had been only mildly concerned about Cynthia’s absence because of assurances from Colonel Brown and me; and so on and so forth. Before they left, Gehe made another try fora commitment to keep his mother’s name out of it, and Cramer appreciated his frankness so much that he promised to do his best I couldn’t blame Cramer; people like them might be in a position to call almost anybody, even the commissioner or the mayor, by his first name.
Fritz had brought trays for Wolfe and me, and we were making headway with them. In the silence that followed the departure of the Orwins, Wolfe could plainly be heard chewing a mouthful of mixed salad.
Curtains for Three 183
sat frowning at us. He spoke not to Wolfe
|io me. “Is that imported ham?” shook my head and swallowed before I answered. |j Georgia. Pigs fed on peanuts and acorns. Cured to J Wolfe’s specifications. It smells good but it tastes I’better. Ill copy the recipe for you—no, damn it, I , because the typewriter’s in the office. Sorry.” I lie sandwich down and picked up another. “I-like st’a bit of ham, then sturgeon, then [then sturgeon …”
could see him controlling himself. He turned his “Levy! Get that Colonel Brown in.”
sir. That man you wanted—Vedder—he’s
en IH take him first.”
.. .. . ,vi: .’”’ -.-, ; .’:
i the plant rooms Malcolm Vedder had caught my |by the way he picked up a flowerpot and held it. As ok a chair across the dining table from Cramer e, I still thought he was worth another good l
ook, fatter his answer to Cramer’s third question I reI and concentrated on my sandwiches. He was an ‘ and had had parts in three Broadway plays. Of ; that explained it. No actor would pick tip a flow; just normally, like you or me. He would have to it some way, and Vedder had happened to a way that looked to me like fingers closing 1 a throat.
low he was dramatizing this by being wrought up [indignant about the cops dragging him into an in of a sensational murder. He kept running long fingers of both his elegant hands through Ms
1$4 EeXfStont
hair in a way that looked familiar, and I remembered I had seen him the year before as the artist guy in The Primtiveji,
“Typicall” he told Cramer, his eyes flashing and his voicethroal^with feeling. “Typical of police elumsiness! Pulling me into this! The newspapermen out fix>nt recognized me, of course, and the damned photographers! My God!”
“Yeah,” Cramer said sympathetically, “It’ll be tough for an actor, having your picture in the paper. We need help, us clumsy police, and you were among these present. You’re a member of this flower club?”
,N0, Redder said, he wasn’t. He had come with a friend, a Mrs. Beauchamp, and when she had left to keep ati appointment he had remained to look at more orchids. If only he had departed with her he would have avoided this dreadful publicity. They had arrived about three-thirty, and he had remained in the plant rooms continuously until leaving with me at his heels. He had seen no one that he had ever known or seen before, except Mrs. Beauchamp. He knew nothing of any Cynthia Brown or Colonel Percy Brown. Cramer went through all the regulation questions and got all the expected negatives, until he suddenly asked, “Did you know Doris Batten?” Ve4derfrowned. “Who?”
“Soris Batten. She was also—”
“Ah!* Vedder cried. “She was also strangled! I remember!”
“Right.”
Vedder made fists of his hands, rested them on the table, and leaned forward. His eyes had flashed again and then gone dead. “You know,” he said tensely, “that’s the, worst of all, strangling—especially a woman.” His fists opened, the fingers spread apart,
Curtains for Three 185
t he gazed at them. “Imagine strangling a beautiful
IP .. ‘ - V . ,-.’ ‘ “Did you know Doris Hatten?” ^Othello,” Vedder said in a deep resonant tone. His lifted to Cramer, and his voice lifted too. “No, I nt know her, I only read about her.” He shuddered t over and then, abruptly, he was out of his chair and ; his feet. ‘Damn it all,” he protested shrilly, “I only
here to look at orchids! God!” He ran his fingers through his hair, turned, and for the door. Levy looked at Gramer with his raised, and Cramer shook his head impatiently. I muttered at Woife, “He hammed it, maybe?” Wotfe wasn’t interested.
The next one in was Bill McNab, garden editor of Gazette. I knew him a little, but not well, most of newspaper friends not being on garden desks. He oked unhappier than any of the others, even Mrs. as he walked across to the table, to the end Wolfesat.
“I can’t teB you how much I regret this, Mr. Wolfe ” f said miserably; fDont try,” Wotfe growled. t “I wfeh I could, I certainly do. What a really, really rible thing! I wouldn’t have dreamed such a tiling I happen—the Manhattan flower Club! Of course, i wasn’t a member, but that only makes it worse in a jr/1 McNab turned to Cramer. “I’m responsible for
i? ‘ ‘ ‘.” - ‘ .- :
^^ouaref^
v*“Yes. It was my idea. I persuaded Mr. Wolfe to ‘ it. He let me word the invitations. And I was atulating myself on the great success! The club only a hundred and eighty-nine members, and were over two hundred people here. Then this!
1M Rex Stout
What can I do?” He turned. “I want you to know this, Mr. Wolfe. I got a message from my paper; they wanted me to do a story on it for the news columns, and I refused point-blank. Even if I get fired—I don’t think I will.”
“Sit down a minute,” Cramer invited him.
McNab varied the monotony on one detail, at least. He admitted that he had left the plant rooms three times during the afternoon, once to accompany a departing guest down to the ground floor, and twice to go down alone to check on who had come and who hadn’t. Aside from that, he was more of the same. He had never heard of Cynthia Brown. By now it was beginning to seem not only futile but silly to spend time on seven or eight of them merely because they happened to be the last to go and so were at hand. Also it was something new to me from a technical standpoint. I had never seen one stack up like that. Any precinct dick knows that every question you ask of everybody is aimed at one of the three targets: motive, means, and opportunity. In tins ease there were no questions to ask because those were already answered. Motive: the guy had followed her downstairs, knowing she had recognized him, had seen her enter Wolfe’s office and thought she was doing exactly what she was doing, ^getting set to tell Wolfe, and had decided to prevent that tiie quickest and best way he knew. Means: any piece of cloth; even his handkerchief would do. Opportunity: he was there—all of them on Saul’s fist were.
So if you wanted to learn who strangled Cynthia Brown, first you had to find out who had strangled Doris Hatten, and the cops had already been working on that for five months.
As soon as Bill McNab had been sent cm his way, Colonel Percy Brown was brought in.
Cnrtains for Tkree 187
frown was not exactly at ease, but lie had himself in hand. You would never have picked him for a , and neither would I. His mouth and jaw
think,” Brown said in a cool even tone, “it will rtime if I state my position. I will answer fully and aD questions that relate to what I saw or heard since I arrived here this afternoon. Tb that ex Ill help you all I can. Answers to any other ques ? will have to wait until I consult my attorneyi* nodded, “I expected that. The trouble is sore I don’t give a damn what you saw or 1 this afternoon. We’ll come back to that. I want to I to you. As you see, I’m not even want know why you tried to break away before we ���/ - =. :… ;., ; -;’: . ”’ . -/” -””
iinerely wanted to phone-^ forget it” Cramer put the remains of his second not more than a scraggfy inch, in the ashtray, received, I think it’s like this. The who called herself Cynthia Brown, murdered ay, was not your sister. You met her in Florida eight weeks ago. She went in with yon on an of which Mrs. Orwin was the subject, and her to Mrs. Orwin as your sister. You to New York with Mrs. Orwin a week ago, i operation well under way. As far as I’m Con1, that is only background. Otherwise I’m not in in it. My work is homicide, and that’s what
; onnow.” was listening politely.
188 Re* Stout
SFor use,” Cramer^went or, “the point is that for quite a period you have been closely connected with this Miss Brown, associating with her in a confidential operation. You must have had many intimate conversations with her. You were having her with you as your sister, and she wasn’t, and she’s been murdered. We could give you merry hell on that score alone.”
Brown had no use for his tongue. His face said no comment. ;: . - .’-..-.:..-;-. ‘ ’”—.. ;
“full never be too late togive^you hell,” Gramer assured him, “but I wanted to give you a chance first. For tw��� months you’ve been on intimate terms with Gynthia Brown. She certainly must have mentioned an experience she had last October. A friend of hers named Doris Hatten was murdered—strangled. Gynthia Brown had information about the murderer which she kept to herself; if she had come out with it she’d be alive now. She must have mentioned that to you; you can’t tell me she didn’t. She must have told you all about it. Now you can tell me. If you do we can nail him for what he did here today, and it might even make things a little smoother for you. Well?”
Brown had pursed his lips. They straightened out again, and his hand ca
me up for a finger to scratch his cheek.
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“For what?”
“I’m sorry I can’t help.”
“Do you expect me to believe that during all those weeks she never mentioned the murder of her friend Dorffi Hatten?”
“I’m sorry I can’t help.”
Gramer got out another cigar and rolled it between his palms, which was wasted energy since he didn’t intend to draw smoke through it. Having seen him do
Curtains for Three 189
fare, I knew what it meant. He still thought he lit get something from this customer and was tak ; time out to control himself . IfFm sorry too,” he said, laying not to make it a “But she must have told you something of her dus career, didn’t she?” _ ‘m sorry.” Brown’s tone was firm and final. -,, pOkay. We’ll move on to this afternoon. On that you I you’d answer fully and freely. Do you remember a at when something about Cynthia Brown’s ap movement she made or the expres* t on her face—caused Mrs. Orwin to ask her what jpthe matter with her?”
crease was showing on Brown’s forehead. “I , believe I do,” he stated.
asking you”-to try. Try hard.” ^ Hence. Brown pursed his Mps and the crease in his deepened. Family he said, “I may not have right there at the moment. In those aisles—in a ” lake that—we weren’t rubbing elbows continu ‘. - ‘ .-.’.
STou do remember when she excused herself be BPBhe wasn’t feeling well?”
s, of course.”
STell,- this moment I’m asking about came shortly that. She exchanged looks with some man f, and it was her reaction to that that made Mrs. ask her what was the matter. What I’m interim is that exchange of looks. If you saw it and can it, and can describe the man she exchanged IWith, I wouldn’t give a damn if you stripped Mrs. i dean and ten more like her.” hdidn’t see it.” didn’t.”
Ijfc” - ‘ . :’ ‘ ‘ ‘ ‘
188 Rex Stoat
“For me,” Cramer went on, “the point is that for quite a period you have been closely connected with this Miss Brown, associating with her in a confidential operation. You must have had many intimate conversations with her. You were having her with you as your sister, and she wasn’t, and she’s been murdered. We could give you merry hell on that score alone.”