Stout Rex - Champange for One стр 42.

Are you through? I asked.

Yes.

Well. I could make some assumptions too, but whats the use? Besides, Im at a disadvantage. My mother used to tell me never to stay where I wasnt wanted, and you heard Mrs Robilotti. I guess Im too sensitive, but Ive stood it as long as I can.

I turned and went. Voices cameSkinners and Celias and Robilottisbut I marched on.

Chapter 12

Wolfe said it that Friday night when I got home and reported. When I finished I made a comment. You know, I said, its pretty damn silly. A police commissioner and a district attorney and an inspector of Homicide all biting nails just because if they say suicide one obscure citizen may let out a squeak.

They know me, Wolfe said.

Beat that if you can. I admit it was justified by the record. They did know him. What if they officially called it suicide, and then, in a day or a week or a month, Wolfe phoned WA9-824I to tell them to come and get the murderer and the evidence? Not that they were sure that would happen, but past experience had shown them that it was at least an even-money bet that it might happen. My point is not that it wasnt justified, but that it would have been more becoming just to describe the situation.

He saved his breath. He said, They know me, and picked up his book.

The next day, Saturday, we had words. The explosion came right after lunch. Saul had phoned at eight-thirty, as I was on my second cup of breakfast coffee, to report no progress. Marjorie Betz had stayed put in the apartment all evening, so the Wyatt lock had not been tackled. At noon he phoned again; more items of assorted information, but still no progress. But at two-thirty, as we returned to the office after lunch, the phone rang and he had news. They had found her. A man from a messenger service had gone to the apartment, and when he came out he had a suitcase with a tag on it. Of course that was pie. Saul and Orrie had entered a subway car right behind him. The tag read: Miss Edith Upson, Room 911, Hotel Christie, 523 Lexington Avenue . The initials E.U. were stamped on the suitcase.

Getting a look at someone who is holed up in a hotel room can be a little tricky, but that situation was made to order. Saul, not encumbered with luggage, had got to the hotel first and gone to the ninth floor, and had been strolling past the door of Room 911 at the moment it opened to admit the messenger with the suitcase; and if descriptions are any good at all, Edith Upson was Elaine Usher. Of course, Saul had been tempted to tackle her then and there, but also of course, since it was Saul, he had retired to think it over and to phone. He wanted to know, were there instructions or was he to roll his own?

You need a staff, I told him. Ill be there in twelve minutes. Where

No, Wolfe said, at his phone. Proceed, Saul, as you think best. You have Orrie. For this sort of juncture your talents are as good as mine. Get her here.

Yes, sir.

Preferably in a mood of compliance, but get her here.

Yes, sir.

That was when we had words. I cradled the receiver, not gently, and stood up. This is Saturday, I said, and Ive got my cheque for this week. I want a months severance pay.

Pfui.

No

phooey. I am severing relations. It has been eighty-eight hours since I saw that girl die, and your one bright idea, granting that it was bright, was to collect her mother, and I refuse to camp here on my fanny while Saul collects her. Saul is not ten times as smart as I am; hes only twice as smart. A months severance pay will be

Shut up.

Gladly. I went to the safe for the chequebook and took it to my desk.

Archie.

I have shut up. I opened the chequebook.

This is natural. That is, it is in us, and we are alive, and whatever is in life is natural. You are headstrong and I am magisterial. Our tolerance of each other is a constantly recurring miracle. I did not have one idea, bright or not; I had two. We have neglected Austin Byne. It has been two days and nights since you saw him. Since he got you to that party, pretending an ailment he didnt have, and since he told Laidlaw he had seen Miss Usher at Grantham House, and since he chose Miss Usher as one of the dinner guests, he deserves better of us. I suggest that you attend to him.

I turned my head but kept the chequebook open. How? Tell him we dont like his explanations and we want new ones?

Nonsense. You are not so ingenuous. Survey him. Explore him.

I already have. You know what Laidlaw said. He has no visible means of support, but he has an apartment and a car and plays table-stakes poker and does not go naked. The apartment, by the way, hits my eye. If you hang this murder on him, and if our tolerance miracle runs out of gas, Ill probably take it over. Are you working yourself up to saying that you want to see him?

No. I have no lever to use on him. I only feel that he has been neglected. If you approach him again you too will be without a lever. Perhaps the best course would be to put him under surveillance.

If I postpone writing this cheque is that an instruction?