The Rubber Band/The Red Box 2-In-1 (22 page)

Johnny strode out. I think he practiced striding. I started to follow, but turned to ask Wolfe, “Are you going to grab time by the forelock? Will there be a party when I get back?”

“I couldn’t say.” Wolfe’s hand was resting on the desk; he was waiting for the door to close behind me, to ring for beer. “Well await the confirmation.”

“Shall I phone?”

“No. Bring it.”

“Okay.” I turned.

The telephone rang. From force of habit I wheeled again and stepped to my desk for it, though I saw that Wolfe had reached for his receiver. So we both heard it, a voice that sounded far away but thin and tense with excitement:

“Nero Wolfe! Nero—”

I snapped, “Yes. Talking.”

“I’ve got him! Come up here … 55th Street … Mike Walsh this is … I’ve got him covered … come up—”

It was cut off by the sound of a shot in the receiver—a
sound of an explosion so loud in my ear that it might have been a young cannon. Then there was nothing. I said “Hello, Walsh! Walsh!” a few times, but there was no answer.

I hung up and turned to Wolfe. “Well, by Godfrey. Did you hear anything?”

He nodded. “I did. And I don’t understand it.”

“Indeed. That’s a record. What’s the program, hop up there?”

Wolfe’s eyes were shut, and his lips were moving out and in. He stayed that way a minute. I stood and watched him. Finally he said, “If Walsh shot someone, who was it? But if someone shot him, why now? Why not yesterday or a week ago? In any case, you might as well go and learn what happened. It may have been merely a steel girder crashing off its perch; there was enough noise.”

“No. That was a gun.”

“Very well. Find out. If you—ah! The doorbell. Indeed. You might attend to that first. Mr. Perry is punctual.”

As I entered the hall Saul Panzer came out of the kitchen, and I sent him back. I turned on the stoop light and looked through the panel because it was getting to be a habit, and saw it was Perry. I opened the door and he stepped inside and put his hat and gloves on the stand.

I followed him into the office.

Wolfe said, “Good evening sir. —I have reflected, Archie, that the less one meddles the less one becomes involved. You might have Saul phone the hospital that there has been an accident. —Oh no, Mr. Perry, nothing serious, thank you.”

I went to the kitchen and told Saul Panzer: “Go to Allen’s on 34th Street and phone headquarters that you think you heard a shot inside the building construction on 55th near Madison and they’d better investigate at once. If they want to know who you are, tell them King George. Make it snappy.”

That was a nickel wasted, but I didn’t know it then.

Perry Glanced at me as I got into my chair and opened my notebook. He was saying, “I don’t remember that anything ever irritated me more. I suppose I’m getting old. You mustn’t think I bear any ill-will; if you preferred to represent Miss Fox, that was your right. But you must admit I played your hand for you; so far as I know there wasn’t the faintest shred of evidence with which you could have enforced your threat.” He smiled. “You think, of course, that my personaler—respect for Miss Fox influenced my attitude and caused me to bring pressure on Muir. I confess that had a great deal to do with it. She is a charming young lady and also an extremely competent employee.”

Wolfe nodded. “And my client. Naturally, I was pleased to learn that the charge had been dropped.”

“You say you heard it from the police? I hoped I was bringing the good news myself.”

“I got it from Inspector Cramer.” Wolfe had got his beer. He poured some, and resumed, “Mr. Cramer told me that he had been advised of it by a Mr. Frisbie, an Assistant District Attorney. It appears that Mr. Frisbie is a friend of Mr. Muir.”

“Yes. I am acquainted with Frisbie. I know Skinner, the District Attorney, quite well.” Perry coughed, watched Wolfe empty his glass, and resumed, “So I’m not the bearer of glad tidings. But,” he smiled, “that wasn’t the chief purpose of my call.”

“Well, sir?”

“Well … I think you owe me something. Look at it this way. By threatening me with a procedure which would have meant most distasteful publicity for my corporation, you forced me to exert my authority and compel Muir to drop his charge.
Muir isn’t an employee; he is the highest officer of the corporation after myself and he owns a fair proportion of the stock. It wasn’t easy.” Perry leaned forward and got crisper. “I surrendered to you. Now I have a right to know what I surrendered to. The only possible interpretation of your threat was that Miss Fox had been framed, and you wouldn’t have dared to make such a threat unless you had some sort of evidence for it.” He sat back and finished softly, “I want to know what that evidence is.”

“But, Mr. Perry.” Wolfe wiggled a finger. “Miss Fox is my client. You’re not.”

“Ah.” Perry smiled. “You want to be paid for it? I’ll pay a reasonable amount.”

“Whatever information I have gathered in the interest of Miss Fox is not for sale to others.”

“Rubbish. It has served her well. She has no further use for it.” He leaned forward again. “Look here, Wolfe. I don’t need to try to explain Muir to you, you’ve talked with him. If he has got so bad that he tries to frame a girl out of senile chagrin and vindictiveness, don’t you think I ought to know it? He is our senior vice-president. Wouldn’t our stockholders think so?”

“I didn’t know stockholders think.” Wolfe sighed. “But to answer your first question: yes, sir, I do think you ought to know it. But you won’t learn it from me. Let us not go on pawing the air, Mr. Perry. This is definite: I did have evidence to support my threat, but under no circumstances will you get from me any proof that you could use against Mr. Muir. So we won’t discuss that. If there is any other topic …”

Perry insisted. He got frank. His opinion was that Muir was such an old goat that his active services were no longer of any value to the corporation. He wanted to deal fairly with Muir, but after all his first duty was to the organization and its stockholders. And so on. He had suspected from the first that there was something odd about the disappearance of that $30,000, and he reasserted his right to know what Wolfe had found out about it. Wolfe let him ramble on quite a while, but finally he sighed and sat up and got positive. Nothing doing.

Perry seemed determined to keep his temper. He sat and bit his lower lip and looked at me and back at Wolfe again.

Wolfe asked, “Was there anything else, sir?”

Perry hesitated. Then he nodded. “There was, yes. But I don’t suppose … however … I want to see Miss Fox.”

“Indeed.” Wolfe’s shoulders went up an inch and down
again. “The demand for that young woman seems to be universal. Did you know the police are still looking for her? They want to ask her about a murder.”

Perry’s chin jerked up. “Murder? What murder?”

“Just a murder. A man on the street with five bullets in him. I would have supposed Frisbie had told you of it.”

“No. Muir said Frisbie said something … I forget what … but this sounds serious. How can she possibly be connected with it? Who was killed?”

“A man named Harlan Scovil. Murder is often serious. But I think you needn’t worry about Miss Fox; she really had nothing to do with it. You see, she is still my client. At present she is rather inaccessible, so if you could just tell me what you want to see her about …”

I saw a spot of color on Perry’s temple, and it occurred to me that he was the fourth man I had that day seen badly affected in the emotions by either the presence or the name of Clara Fox. She wasn’t a woman, she was an epidemic. But obviously Perry wasn’t going to repeat Muir’s performance. I watched the spot of color as it faded. At length he said to Wolfe quietly:

“She is in this house. Isn’t she?”

“The police searched this house today and didn’t find her.”

“But you know where she is?”

“Certainly.” Wolfe frowned at him. “If you have a message for her, Mr. Goodwin will take it.”

“Can you tell me when and where it will be possible to see her?”

“No. I’m sorry. Not at present. Tomorrow, perhaps …”

Perry arose from his chair. He stood and looked down at Wolfe, and all of a sudden smiled. “All right,” he said. “I can’t say that my call here has been very profitable, but I’m not complaining. Every man has a right to his own methods if he can get away with them. As you suggest, I’ll wait till tomorrow; you may feel differently about it.” He put out his hand.

Wolfe glanced at the outstretched hand, then opened his eyes to look directly at Perry’s face. He shook his head. “No, sir. You are perfectly aware that in view of this … event, I am no friend of yours.”

Perry’s temple showed color again. But he didn’t say anything. He turned and steered for the door. I lifted myself and followed him. He already had his hat and gloves by the time I got to the hall stand, and when I opened the door for him I saw that he had a car outside, one of the new Wethersill
convertibles. I watched him climb in, and waited until he had glided off before I re-entered and slid the bolt to.

I stopped in the kitchen long enough to learn from Saul that he had phoned the message to headquarters but hadn’t been able to convince them that he was King George and so had rung off.

In the office, Wolfe sat with his eyes closed and his lips moving. After sitting down and glancing over my notebook and putting it in the drawer, I observed aloud:

“He’s wise.”

No reply, no acknowledgment. I added, “Which is more than you are.” That met with the same lack of encouragement. I waited a courteous interval and resumed, “The poor old fellow would give anything in the world to forestall unpleasant publicity for the Seaboard Products Corporation. Just think what he has sacrificed! He has spent the best part of his life building up that business, and I’ll bet his share of the profits is no more than a measly half a million a year. But what I want to know—”

“Shut up, Archie.” Wolfe’s eyes opened. “I can do without that now.” He grimaced at his empty glass. “I am atrociously uncomfortable. It is sufficiently annoying to deal with inadequate information, which is what one usually has, but to sit thus while surmises, the mere ghosts of facts, tumble idiotically in my brain, is next to insupportable. It would have been better, perhaps, if you had gone to 55th Street. With prudence. At any rate, we can try for Mr. Cramer. I told him I would telephone him by eight, and it lacks only ten minutes of that. I particularly resent this sort of disturbance at this time of day. I presume you know we are having guinea chicken
Braziliera
. See about Mr. Cramer.”

That proved to be a job. Cramer’s extension seemed to be permanently busy. After five or six tries I finally got it, and was told by someone that Cramer wasn’t there. He had left shortly after seven o’clock, and it wasn’t known where he was, and he had left no word about any expected message from Nero Wolfe. Wolfe received the information standing up, for Fritz had appeared to announce dinner. I reported Cramer’s absence and added, “Why don’t I go uptown now and see if something fell and broke? Or send Saul.”

Wolfe shook his head. “No. The police are there, and if there is anything to hear we shall hear it later by reaching Mr. Cramer, without exposing ourselves.” He moved to the door. “There is no necessity for Johnny to sit in the kitchen
at a dollar and a half an hour. Send him home. Saul may remain. Bring Miss Fox.”

I performed the errands.

At the dinner table, of course, business was out. Nothing was said to Clara Fox about the call for help from Mike Walsh or Perry’s visit. In spite of the fact that she had a rose pinned on her, she was distinctly down in the mouth and wasn’t making any effort in the way of peddling charm, but even so, appraising her coolly, I could see that she might be a real problem for any man who was at all impressionable. She had been in the plant rooms with Wolfe for an hour before six o’clock, and during dinner he went on with a conversation which they had apparently started then, about folk dances and that sort of junk. He even hummed a couple of tunes for her, after the guinea chicken had been disposed of, which caused me to take a firm hold on myself so as not to laugh the salad out of my mouth. At that, it was better than when he tried to whistle, for he did produce some kind of a noise.

With the coffee he told her that the larceny charge had been dropped. She opened her eyes and her mouth both.

“No, really? Then I can go!” She stopped herself and put out a hand to touch his sleeve, and color came to her cheeks. “Oh, I don’t mean … that was terrible, wasn’t it? But you know how I feel, hiding …”

“Perfectly.” Wolfe nodded. “But I’m afraid you must ask us to tolerate you a little longer. You can’t go yet.”

“Why not?”

“Because, first, you might get killed. Indeed, it is quite possible, though I confess not very likely. Second, there is a development that must still be awaited. On that you must trust me. I know, since Archie told you of Lord Clivers’s statement that he has paid—”

I didn’t hear the finish, because the doorbell rang and I wasn’t inclined to delay about answering it. I was already on pins and I would soon have been on needles if something hadn’t happened to open things up. I loped down the hall.