Rex Stout_Nero Wolfe 46 by A Family Affair Read Free Book Online

spotted the man who had killed Pierre before I did, he didn’t want me to say sure, his father spoke French.
    But I kept the grin inside. “Maybe later,” I said. “It can wait. Did he tell you anything relevant?”
    “He may have. He knew about Pierre’s habit of betting on horse races, and they frequently discussed it. He said that Pierre never asked him for money on account of it, but that was a lie. That was one of the few points, very few, about which he was not candid. Also it is one of the points on which you may want a full report later. I mention it now only because it was in a discussion about the betting that Pierre told him about a man giving him a hundred dollars. Last Wednesday morning, six days ago, Pierre told him that one day the preceding week—Mr. Ducos thinks it was Friday but isn’t sure—there had been a slip of paper left on a tray with the money by a customer, and later when he went to return it the customer was gone. And the day before, Tuesday—the day before the talk with his father—a man had given him a hundred dollars for the slip of paper.”
    Wolfe turned a palm up. “That’s all. But a hundred dollars for a slip of paper? Even with the soaring inflation, that seems extravagant. And another point. Was the man who gave Pierre that hundred dollars the man who had left the slip of paper on the tray? Of course I tried to get the exact words used by Pierre in the talk with his father, and perhaps I did—the important ones. Mr. Ducos is certain that he did not use the word
rendre
. Return. Give back. If he had been returning the slip to the man who had left it on the tray, a hundred dollars could have been merely exuberant gratitude,but if it was not the same man—I don’t need to descant on that.”
    I nodded. “A dozen possibles. And if it was the same man, why did Pierre wait four days to return it? Or why didn’t he just give it to Felix and ask him to mail it to him? I like it. Is that the crop?”
    “Yes. Of course other things that Mr. Ducos told me might possibly repay inquiry, but this was much the most likely.” He turned his head to look at the clock. “Nearly two hours to dinner. If you go now?”
    “I doubt it. Felix, I suppose, and maybe some of the waiters, but Philip is by far the best bet, and you know how it is in the kitchen at this hour, especially for a sauce man. Also I had four hours’ sleep and I’m not—”
    The doorbell. I went to the hall for a look, stepped back in, and said, “Cramer.”
    He made a noise. “How the devil—was he across the street?”
    “No, but someone was and phoned. Naturally.”
    “You’ll have to stay.”
    He rarely uses breath to say things that are obvious, but of course that was. I went and slid the bolt and swung the door open.
    Inspector Cramer of Homicide South has been known to call me Archie. He also has been known to pretend he doesn’t remember my name, and that time maybe he really didn’t. He marched on by, to the office door and in, and when I got there he was saying, “… and every goddam minute from the time you woke up until now. You
and
Goodwin. And you’ll sign it.”
    Wolfe was shaking his head, tilted back. “Pfui,” he said.
    “Don’t phooey me! Of all the—”
    “Shut up!”
    Cramer gawked. He had heard Wolfe tell a hundred people to shut up, and I had heard him tell a thousand, including me, but never Cramer. He didn’t believe it.
    “I don’t invite you to sit,” Wolfe said, “or to remove your coat and hat, because I am going to tell you nothing. No, I retract that. I do tell you that I know nothing about the death of Pierre Ducos except what Mr. Goodwin has told me, and he has told Mr. Stebbins everything he told me. Beyond that I shall tell you absolutely nothing. Of course I had to permit examination of that room by qualified men, and I left instructions to admit them. They are still up there. If we are taken in custody as material witnesses, by either you or the District