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Authors: Rex Stout

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BOOK: Prisoner's Base
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“Bourbon and water for me,” Viola Duday said promptly.

Wolfe rang for Fritz, and he came in to help, and Eric Hagh offered his services. There was some moving around during the process of serving, and when it was over I noticed that Hagh had homesteaded on the couch with Sarah. Andy Fomos was the only customer for the wine. Wolfe, of course, had beer. I had myself a tall glass of water—not that I don’t like something with more authority in off hours, but that hour was far from off. What I wasn’t getting in my notebook I was filing in my bean for future reference, and with that bunch I had no faculties to spare.

The idea of a Softdown walkout got no further mention. When all had been refreshed, Helmar stuck his jaw out and began, “On the question of the authenticity of that—”

Wolfe cut him off. “No, sir,” he said emphatically. “Your notion of the purpose of this meeting, and Mr. Hagh’s notion, and Mr. Fomos’s notion, are all different and all wrong. The purpose is an inquiry by me to try to learn whether any or all of you are implicated in the murder of Priscilla Eads. If I decide that you are not, the action by Mrs. Jaffee will be forgone. If I decide that you are or probably are, the action will be pursued.”

“This is fantastic,” Helmar declared. “We submit to
trial on a charge of murder, before you as judge and jury?”

“No, not as you put it. I may not apply sanctions; I have no electric chair in readiness. But if Mrs. Jaffee asks for an injunction, and you dispute it, and the court hears arguments, the degree of probability that one or more of you is implicated in murder will be a major point at issue and will be debated in court. That would be a disagreeable experience for you, and you may be able to prevent it by debating it here, privately, this evening. Do you want to try? If you do, we’d better start. It’s ten o’clock.”

They looked at one another. “What do you mean by inquiry?” Viola Duday demanded. “Do you mean you question us on anything you please, as the police have? Each of us has spent hours, many hours, with the police.”

Wolfe shook his head. “That would take days. I will want to ask some questions—for instance, I shall ask you about the secret talk which Mr. Fomos says you had last week with his wife—but not too many. I propose another method. I suggest an exposition from each of you. You have all been questioned exhaustively by the police, and so should have all pertinent facts and considerations freshly and clearly in mind. Put it this way: I say to you, Miss Duday, there is a suspicion current that you had something to do with the murder of Priscilla Eads, and also of Margaret Fomos, and even that you may have actually committed those crimes with your own hands. What have you to say to remove or discredit that suspicion? You may have half an hour. Well?”

“That’s a subtle and dangerous trick, Viola,” Helmar warned her.

“How dangerous to the innocent?” Wolfe demanded.

Miss Duday took a sip of her bourbon and water, which was half gone. When she swallowed, a ripple ran down her scrawny neck. There was no sign of lipstick on her. “I think I’ll take a chance on the danger,” she said in her clear, pleasant voice, “though I doubt if I’ll need half an hour. I don’t suppose you know, Mr. Wolfe, that in my case the motive was much less weighty than with the others. It is true that I’ll get a large block of stock, as they will, but they can outvote me and push me out if they feel like it. Whereas if Priscilla had lived I would soon have been the active head of the corporation, in complete control. That seems pertinent?”

Wolfe nodded. “Mr. Goodwin told me of your comment to him, and Mrs. Jaffee was told by Miss Eads that she intended to make you president. Did you know that Mrs. Fomos was to be a director?”

“Yes. That was because Priscilla wanted all the directors to be women, and we wanted five. She and I and Sarah Jaffee would be three, and a Miss Drescher, a superintendent at the factory, a fourth, and we wanted another, and Margaret had been with Priscilla a long time and was very devoted to her, and we thought it could do no harm and would be a nice gesture.”

“That was the only reason?”

“Yes. I will say that I was not enthusiastic about it. Important matters, trade secrets and plans for future operations, are discussed at directors’ meetings, and if Margaret attended them naturally she would hear everything. Priscilla trusted her completely, and I had no reason to doubt her, but I wanted to know more about her relations with her husband. Women who are reliably discreet in all other respects will blab anything and everything to their husbands. That was why I went to Margaret’s home one evening last week, to meet her
husband and talk with both of them and see how they were together. There was nothing secret—”

“No!” Andy was loose again. He came tearing over, declaiming en route. I met him. He decided to come right on through me, and I had either to dive to keep from being trampled or dispose of him, and, choosing the latter, I overestimated his momentum and weight. The result was that my arm twist and hip lift not only repulsed him, they tumbled him and sent him rolling. By the time he got up and started for me I had a chair between us and was displaying the silencer in my hand.

“Hold it, Junior,” I told him. “I don’t want to bust a knuckle on you, but I think it’s time for your nap. Sit down and stay sat, or else.” Keeping a corner of an eye on him, I asked Wolfe, “Do you want to let him recite?”

“Not now. We’ll see later. Go on, Miss Duday.”

She waited for Fomos to return to his chair, then resumed. “My call on Margaret Fomos and my talk with her had no significance whatever other than what I have said. I was talking about motive. Should I deal further with that?”

“Whatever you think might help.”

“It will be difficult without giving a false impression, but I’ll try. I don’t want to give the impression that I think it probable that one of my business associates is a murderer, but facts are facts. Although Priscilla was not fond of me personally, she had great confidence in my intelligence and ability. Also she thought that women should have more positions of power in all fields. And in addition, when she decided some eighteen months ago to take an interest in the affairs of Softdown and learn the ropes, she resented it that the men—and especially the four men present here—treated her with what she regarded as servility but did not conceal—”

Two of them made noises. She halted. Wolfe darted a glance at them. They subsided.

“But did not conceal their doubt of her ability to understand the mysterious process of making and selling towels. If I shared their doubt at all I had brains enough not to show it, and Priscilla appreciated that. More and more she came to me, and only to me, for her lessons and experience. The result was that I had reason to expect great personal advantage from her approaching assumption of ownership and active control. As for what these men had to expect, they can tell you that.”

She twisted her lips, considering. “I might add this. In nineteen forty-one when Mr. Eads was alive and I was assistant to the president, my salary was forty thousand dollars. Last year, nineteen fifty-one, with Mr. Helmar in control as trustee, it was eighteen thousand. Priscilla told me that my beginning salary as president would be fifty thousand. Mr. Brucker’s is sixty-five.”

Wolfe grunted, a little peevishly I thought, possibly at the news that a mere towel merchant was making half as much as him. He asked, “Did these gentlemen know that Miss Eads intended to put you in charge?”

“I’d rather let them answer that. Except—if they say no, may I speak to it?”

“Yes. Go on, Miss Duday.”

“Well—as for opportunity, I understand that the theory is that the same person killed both of them, and that Margaret Fomos was killed after half-past ten, and Priscilla was killed before two o’clock. During those three and a half hours I—”

“If you please,” Wolfe cut in. “We won’t spend time on that.”

“No?” Her brows went up.

“No. If one of you has an invulnerable alibi and it has been checked by the police, he can afford to tell me to go to the devil and will surely do so. Moreover, an alibi would convince me of nothing. Consider the crimes. Mrs. Fomos was waylaid on a street at night, dragged or propelled into a vestibule, strangled, and her bag taken. In the bag were keys. Using one of them, the murderer gained access to the apartment of Miss Eads, lay in ambush, and upon her entry struck her and strangled her. Looking at you, Miss Duday, I would think it highly doubtful that you committed those crimes as described, but there is no reason why you shouldn’t have contrived them. What would you have to pay? Ten thousand? Twenty? No, I’ll leave your alibi or lack of one to the police.”

He frowned at her. “As you see, we’re severely circumscribed. Motive requires no scrutiny; it blares and brandishes. Means is no problem—a piece of cord two feet long. Opportunity offers no path to a conclusion, since the murders may well have been vicarious, with enough at stake to make them worth planning and paying for. How can I harass you or devise a trap? The best I can do is induce you to talk, and hope for something. How are Mr. Helmar and Mr. Brucker getting along with Miss O’Neil?”

That started a minor commotion. Brucker, who had been letting himself sprawl some, jerked up straight. Pitkin emitted a sound that seemed to be the start of a giggle, but he stopped it. Helmar’s jaw fell and then closed and clamped.

Miss Duday kept her composure. “I really don’t know,” she said. “Of course this has changed the situation—temporarily, at least.”

“You told Mr. Goodwin that as soon as Miss Eads was in control Miss O’Neil would lose her job.”

“Did I? Well, now she won’t.”

“You also told Mr. Goodwin that she was playing Mr. Helmar and Mr. Brucker against each other. What was the connection between that fact and the murder of Miss Eads?”

“None that I know of.”

“No, that won’t do.” Wolfe was crisp. “Mr. Goodwin said he was there to investigate the murder, and you volunteered that information. You are much too intelligent to blatter irrelevancies. What was the connection?”

She smiled, a thin tight smile. “Goodness, am I cornered? Do you suppose in some dark crevice of my mind there was the thought that I wouldn’t dream of thinking either of those men capable of murdering for profit, but in their blind passion for that creature—there was no telling? And I blurted it out to Mr. Goodwin that day? Am I like that?”

“I couldn’t say.” Wolfe skipped it. “When and where did you last see Miss Eads?”

“One week ago today. Last Thursday afternoon, at the office.”

“What office?”

“The Softdown office at One ninety-two Collins Street.”

“What happened, and what was said? Tell me about it.”

Viola Duday hesitated. She opened her mouth, closed it again, and hesitated some more. Finally she spoke. “This is a detail,” she said, “where we acted like idiots—these four men and I. We had a discussion Tuesday afternoon—it was interrupted by your man, Mr. Goodwin, and we agreed on the account we would give of what had happened on Thursday. We knew that would come up in the investigation of the murder, and
we agreed on what to say. It was the only time in my life I have ever been a complete fool. Miss O’Neil was present, because she had been concerned in the events of Thursday. Since she is totally brainless, it didn’t take a competent policeman more than ten minutes alone with her to tangle her up. In the end, naturally, they learned exactly what had happened Thursday, so I might as well tell you. Do you want it in full?”

“Full enough. I can always stop you.”

“Priscilla came downtown and had lunch with me. She said that she had talked with Sarah Jaffee the day before, and Sarah had refused to be elected a director, that she wouldn’t even come to a stockholders’ meeting on July first as we had planned. Priscilla and I discussed getting someone else for a fifth director, and other things. After lunch she went back to the office with me. It had got so it was always tense around that place when Priscilla was there, and that day it was worse than usual. I wasn’t in the room when the scene between Priscilla and Miss O’Neil started, so I don’t know how it began, but I heard the last of it. Priscilla told her to leave the building and not come back, and she refused to go. That had happened once before.”

“On the former occasion,” Mr. Brucker put in, “Miss Eads had been completely in the wrong.”

Viola Duday ignored him. She didn’t even spend a glance on him, but kept at Wolfe. “Priscilla was furious. She phoned Helmar at his law office and asked him to come, and when he arrived she told him and Brucker that she had decided to have a new board of directors and put me in as president. They called in Quest and Pitkin, and the four of them spent three hours trying to persuade her that I was incompetent and would ruin the business. I don’t think they succeeded. I know that when she left she came to my room and said it would be
only eleven more days, and that she was going away for the weekend, and she shook hands. That was the last time I saw her.”

“As far as you knew, it was still her intention to make you president?”

“Yes. I’m sure it was.”

“Do you know that she came here Monday afternoon and spent some hours in this house?”

“Yes, I know.”

“Do you know what she came for?”

“I know nothing definite. I have heard conjectures.”

“I won’t ask you from whom or what. I am aware, Miss Duday, that in coming here this evening you people were impelled only partly by the threat of a legal action by Mrs. Jaffee. You also hoped to learn what Miss Eads came to see me for and what she said. I’m afraid I’ll have to disappoint you. I have given a complete report to the police, or Mr. Goodwin has, and if they don’t care to publish it neither do I. But I will ask you, do you know of any reason why, on Monday, Miss Eads should have decided to seek seclusion? Was she being harassed or frightened by anyone?”

“On Monday?”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know.” She bit her lip, regarding him. “Having no knowledge of it, I could only offer a guess.”

“Try a guess.”

“Well, I know that Perry Helmar had an appointment with her at her apartment for Monday evening. I learned that only yesterday. I know that these men were desperate, and they spent hours Monday at the Softdown office going through records for years back and compiling memoranda. I thought then that they were probably collecting evidence to prove my incompetence and demonstrate it to Priscilla, and I now think
that Helmar made that appointment with her Monday, insisted on it, in order to show her that evidence and convince her that I could not be trusted. My guess is that if she decided to seek seclusion it was because they were pestering her, especially Helmar, and she had had enough of them.”

BOOK: Prisoner's Base
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