Prisoner's Base by Rex Stout Read Free Book Online Page A

Eads left.”
    “Uh-huh.” He got out a cigar. “What paper do you read?”
    “The
Times
, but today I’ve seen only page one and sports.”
    “It didn’t make the
Times.
A little after one o’clock last night the body of a woman was found in a vestibule on East Twenty-ninth Street. She had been strangled with some kind of cord, not very thick. There was trouble identifying her because her bag had been taken, but she lived in a nearby tenement and it didn’t take too long. Her name was Margaret Fomos, and she worked as a maid at the apartment of Miss Priscilla Eads on Seventy-fourth Street. It was a full-time job, but she lived on Twenty-ninth Street with her husband. She usually got home around nine, but last evening she phoned her husband that she wouldn’t arrive until eleven. He says she sounded upset, and he asked her why, and she said she would tell him when she saw him.”
    “So she was killed about eleven o’clock?”
    “Not known. The building on Seventy-fourth Streetis a private house done over into luxes, one to a floor, except Miss Eads—she had the two top floors—and the elevator is self-service, so there is no staff around to see people coming and going. The ME puts it between ten-thirty and midnight.”
    Cramer glanced at his wrist, stuck the cigar between his teeth at the left corner of his mouth, and clamped down on it. He never lit one. “I was home in bed. Rowcliff took it. He had four men on it, following routine, and around four o’clock one of them, a young fellow named Auerbach, decided he had brains and he might as well give ’em a chance. It occurred to him that he had never heard of a bag-snatcher going so far as to strangle the victim, and there was no evidence of any attempt at rape. What was there about her, or about the bag, that called for strangling? According to the husband, nothing about her, nor the bag either. But listing the contents of the bag as well as he could with the husband’s help, one item struck Auerbach as worth considering—Mrs. Fomos’s key to the apartment where she worked.”
    “He’ll have your job someday.”
    “He’s welcome to it now. He went to Seventy-fourth Street and rang the bell to the Eads apartment and got no answer. He got the janitor and had him open the door and take a look. The body of Priscilla Eads was there on the floor, half in a bathroom and half in a hall. She had been hit on the side of the head with the poker from her fireplace and then strangled with some kind of cord, not very thick. Her hat was lying near her, and she had her jacket on, so he had probably been there waiting for her when she came in. We’ll know more about that when we find the hackie, which should be soon with what you gave me. The ME puts it between one and two.”
    “Then she didn’t go straight home. As I told you, I put her in the taxi about twenty to twelve.”
    “I know. Auerbach got Rowcliff, and the boys moved in. The crop of prints was below average—I guess Mrs. Fomos was a good cleaner and duster—and the best of the lot were some nice fresh ones on the luggage. When the word came that they were yours Rowcliff phoned me, and I decided to drop by here on my way downtown. He doesn’t know how to handle Wolfe at all, and you have the same effect on him as a bee on a dog’s nose.”
    “Some day I’ll describe the effect he has on me.”
    “I’d rather not.” Cramer looked at his wrist. “I had it in mind to have a word with Wolfe, but I know how he is about being disturbed up there about a little thing like a homicide, and I’d just as soon take it from you, so long as I get it.”
    “You’ve got it all right.”
    “I believe you, for a change.” He left his chair. “Especially since he has no client, and none in sight that I can see. He’ll be in one hell of a humor, and I don’t envy you. I’ll be going. You understand you’re a material and you’ll be around.”
    I said I would.
    When I went back down the hall after