Rex Stout - Nero Wolfe

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by Three at Wolfe's Door


  “No. I must have been—”

  “The ‘no’ is enough. But you did phone the police yesterday that you saw Mr. Goodwin on Miss Rowan’s terrace at half past three Monday afternoon?”

  “What?” Laura stared. “I never phoned the police anything!”

  “You must have. It is of no consequence now, but—”

  “I phoned the police,” Ellen Dunning said. “I phoned them and told them that because it was true, and I thought they ought to know.”

  “But you didn’t identify yourself.”

  “No, I didn’t. I was afraid to. I didn’t know what they might do because I hadn’t told about it before. But I thought they ought to know.”

  I wouldn’t have dreamed that the day would ever come when I would owe Laura an apology.

  “I doubt,” Wolfe said, “if you have earned their gratitude. Certainly not mine or Mr. Goodwin’s. To go back to Mr. Fox—by the way, Miss Karlin, you were released on bail this morning?”

  “Yes,” Nan said.

  “You were questioned at length?”

  “I certainly was.”

  “Did they worm it out of you that you had told Mr. Fox of your visit to Eisler’s apartment?”

  “Of course not! I hadn’t told him! He didn’t know about it until yesterday!”

  Wolfe’s eyes moved. “Do you confirm that, Mr. Fox?”

  “I sure do.” Mel was on the edge of his chair, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, his head tilted up. “If this is the suggestion you said you’d offer you can stick it somewhere.”

  “It isn’t. I’m merely clearing away the brush. Even if you and Miss Karlin are lying, if she did tell you, it can’t be proven. Therefore it is impossible to establish a motive for you. No, that is not my suggestion. I only—”

  “Wait a minute,” Roger Dunning blurted. “I’ve held off up to now, but I might have known I couldn’t forever. I told Mel about it—about Nan going to Eisler’s place and what he did.”

  “When?”

  “I told him Sunday night. I thought he ought to know because I knew he—”

  “You’re a dirty liar. Get on your feet.” Mel was on his. Dunning’s chair was right behind his, and Mel had turned to face him.

  “I’m sorry, Mel,” Dunning said. “I’m damn sorry, but you can’t expect—”

  “On your feet!”

  “That won’t help any, Mel. That won’t—”

  Mel smacked him on the jaw with his open hand, his right, and his left was on the way to countersmack him as his head swayed, but Saul Panzer and Fred Durkin were there. I was up, but they were closer. They got his arms and backed him up and turned him, and Wolfe spoke.

  “If you please, Mr. Fox. I’ll deal with him. I know he’s lying.”

  Mel squinted. “How the hell do you know he’s lying?”

  “I know a cornered rat when I see one. Move your chair and sit down. Saul, see if Mr. Dunning has a weapon. We don’t need any melodrama.”

  Dunning was on his feet, focused on Wolfe. “You said Miss Rowan’s not responsible,” he said, louder than necessary. “You said you are.” He turned to Lily. “You hired him. I advise you to fire him quick.”

  Lily looked at me. I shook my head. Fred moved behind Dunning and took his arms, and Saul went over him. Mel Fox moved his chair away and sat. Cal said something to Laura, and Anna Casado spoke to Harvey Greve. Saul turned and told Wolfe, “No gun.” Dunning said to his wife, “Come on, Ellen, we’re going.” She reached and grabbed his sleeve.

  Wolfe spoke. “You are not going, Mr. Dunning. When you do go you will be under escort. I repeat, I can’t say to you, ‘You killed Wade Eisler and I can prove it,’ but I do say that the probability of your guilt is so great that I stake my reputation on it. I must confess that this is impetuous, but your motive couldn’t be established without warning you; and I wished to gratify a caprice of my client, Miss Rowan, who invited me to her table for a memorable meal. She wants to deliver you to the District Attorney. Mr. Panzer and Mr. Durkin will go along to give him some information they have gathered. You are going willy-nilly. Do you want to challenge me here and now?”

  Dunning turned his head to see where his chair was, and sat. He pulled his shoulders up and lifted his chin. “What information?” he asked.

  “I’ll tell you its nature,” Wolfe said. “I doubt if the District Attorney would want me to give you the particulars. But first, what fixed my attention on you? You did—something that you said when you were here yesterday morning. I didn’t worm it out of you, you volunteered it, that on Monday at Miss Rowan’s place you noticed that Mr. Eisler wasn’t on the terrace and you looked around for him, inside and outside. I asked you when, and you said—I quote you verbatim: ‘It wasn’t long after Miss Rowan went in for some more coffee—maybe three minutes, maybe more than that.’ That was entirely too pat, Mr. Dunning. You were accounting for your absence in case it had been remarked on by anyone, and more important, you were accounting for your appearance in the rear of the penthouse in case you had been observed. And you did it gratuitously; I hadn’t asked for it.”

  “I said it because it was true.” Dunning licked his lips.

  “No doubt. But it suggested the question, what if, instead of looking for him, you were killing him? What if, having got the rope from the closet and concealed it under your jacket, you got Eisler to go with you to that shack on some pretext, or to meet you there? That attracted me. Of the persons there you were the only one whose absence during that period could be established; you yourself avowed it. But then the question, what impelled you? Had you had a cogent motive? To avenge his misconduct with Miss Karlin or with another woman or women?”

  Wolfe shook his head. “That seemed unlikely, though not impossible. More probably it had been some other factor of your relations with him. But when I put Mr. Panzer and Mr. Durkin on your trail I told them to explore all avenues, and they did so. They found no hint that you had a personal interest in any of the young women Mr. Eisler had pestered, but they gathered facts that were highly suggestive. By the way, a detail: on the phone last evening I asked Miss Rowan if you knew of that shack in the rear of the penthouse, and she said that you not only knew of it, you had been in it. You went there on Sunday to make sure that the terrace would be cleared of obstructions so the ropes could be manipulated, and she took you to the shack to see the grouse that were hanging there. Is that correct, Miss Rowan?”

  Lily said yes. She didn’t look happy. Since it was beginning to look as if she was going to get her money’s worth, she should have been pleased, but she didn’t look it.

  “That’s a lie,” Dunning said. “I didn’t know about that shack. I never saw it.”

  Wolfe nodded. “You’re desperate. You knew I wouldn’t arrange this gathering unless I had discovered something of consequence, so you start wriggling; you try to implicate Mr. Fox, your word against his, and you deny you knew of the shack, your word against Miss Rowan’s. Indeed, you started wriggling yesterday, when you had your wife phone the police in an effort to implicate Mr. Goodwin. Probably you have learned that something has been taken from your hotel room. Have you inspected the contents of your suitcase since ten o’clock last evening? The old brown one in the closet that you keep locked?”

  “No.” Dunning swallowed. “Why should I?”

  “I think you have. I have reason to believe that an envelope now in my safe came from that suitcase. I have examined its contents, and while they don’t prove that you killed Wade Eisler they are highly suggestive of a possible motive. I said I’ll tell you the nature of the information I have but not the particulars. However, you may have one detail.” His head turned. “Mr. Greve. You told Mr. Panzer that in the past two years you have purchased some three hundred horses, two hundred steers and bulls, and a hundred and fifty calves, in behalf of Mr. Dunning. Is that correct?”

  Harvey didn’t look happy either. “That’s about right,” he said. “That’s just rough figures.”

&nb
sp; “From how many different people did you buy them?”

  “Maybe a hundred, maybe more. I scouted around.”

  “How did you pay for them?”

  “Some I gave them a check, but mostly cash. They like cash.”

  “Your own checks?”

  “Yes. Roger made deposits in my account, eight or ten thousand dollars at a time, and I paid out of that.”

  “Did Mr. Dunning tell you not to divulge the amounts you paid for the animals?”

  Harvey screwed up his mouth. “I don’t like this.”

  “Neither do I. I am earning a fee. You are exposing a man who made you a party to a swindle and who is almost certainly a murderer. Did he tell you not to divulge the amounts?”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “Has anyone asked you to?”

  “Yes. Wade Eisler. About ten days ago. I told him Roger had all the records and he’d have to ask him.”

  “Did you tell Mr. Dunning that Mr. Eisler had asked you?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s a lie,” Dunning said.

  Wolfe nodded. “Again one person’s word against yours. But I have the envelope, and I have the names of three other men who have made purchases for you under similar arrangements, and Mr. Durkin and Mr. Panzer have spoken with them. Two of them were asked for figures recently by Wade Eisler, as was Mr. Greve. I don’t know how much you cheated Eisler out of, but from the contents of the envelope I surmise that it was many thousands.” His head turned. “Saul and Fred, you will escort Mr. Dunning to the District Attorney’s office and deliver the envelope and the information you have collected. Archie, get the envelope from the safe.”

  I moved. As I passed behind Dunning’s chair he started up, but Saul’s hand on one shoulder and Fred’s on the other stopped him. As I opened the safe door Wolfe said, “Give it to Saul. Miss Rowan, do you want Mr. Goodwin to phone the District Attorney to expect you?”

  I had never seen Lily so completely got. “Good lord,” she said, “I didn’t realize. You couldn’t drag me. I wish I hadn’t … No, I don’t … but I didn’t realize how—how hard it is.”

  “You’re not going?”

  “Of course not!”

  “You, Mr. Greve? You might as well. If you don’t you’ll be sent for later.”

  “Then I’ll go later.” Harvey was on his feet. “We’ve got a show on.” He looked at Cal and Mel. “What about it? Think you can handle a calf if I hold his tail?”

  “But we can’t,” Nan Karlin said. “Just go and—we can’t!”

  “The hell we can’t,” Cal Barrow said. “Come on, Laura.”

  VIII

  One snowy morning in January I got a letter from Cal Barrow.

  Dear Archie:

  You used them two dots like that when you wrote me on the typewriter so if you can I can. I read in the paper today about Roger Dunning getting convicted and Laura said I ought to write you and I said she ought to and she said did I want her writing letters to the man she should have married instead of me: and so it went. Remember when I said about that blowout I didn’t want to stink it up, well it sure got stunk up. We are making out pretty well here in Texas but it is cold enough to freeze the tits on a steer if he had any. Laura says to give you her love but don’t believe it. Best regards.

  Yours truly:

  Cal

  The World of

  Rex Stout

  Now, for the first time ever, enjoy a peek into the life of Nero Wolfe’s creator, Rex Stout, courtesy of the Stout Estate. Pulled from Rex Stout’s own archives, here are rarely seen, some never-before-published memorabilia. Each title in “The Rex Stout Library” will offer an exclusive look into the life of the man who gave Nero Wolfe life.

  Three at Wolfe’s Door

  The second story in this collection, Method Three for Murder, first appeared alongside this illustration in the January 30, 1960 edition of The Saturday Evening Post. The picture depicts a rare scene—Wolfe emerging from his brownstone as he bellows, “What the devil is all this?”

  This book is fiction. No resemblance is intended between any character herein and any person, living or dead; any such resemblance is purely coincidental.

  THREE AT WOLFE’S DOOR

  A Bantam Crime Line Book / published by arrangement with Viking Penguin

  PUBLISHING HISTORY

  Viking edition published April 1960

  Bantam edition / August 1961

  Bantam reissue edition / September 1995

  CRIME LINE and the portrayal of a boxed “cl” are trademarks of Bantam Books, a division of Random House, Inc.

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 1960 by Rex Stout.

  Introduction copyright © 1995 by Margaret Maron.

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  For information address: Bantam Books.

  eISBN: 978-0-307-75622-0

  Bantam Books are published by Bantam Books, a division of Random House, Inc. Its trademark, consisting of the words “Bantam Books” and the portrayal of a rooster, is Registered in U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries. Marca Registrada. Bantam Books, 1540 Broadway, New York, New York 10036.

  v3.0

 

 

 


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