The Second Confession (13 page)

'Here’s the key,' Mom said, displaying it. 'You see, that proves it!' 'Give it here.' Fenner took a step. 'Let me take a look at it.' I reached for his arm and swivelled him. 'Why drag it out'No matter how brave and strong you are, three of us could probably hold you while the lady goes through your pockets. Save time and energy, Mac. Maybe they planted it on you when you weren’t looking.' He was so stubborn and game that his eyes got nearly as high as my knees before he surrendered. Then they dropped again, and his hand went into his pants pocket and emerged with a tight little roll between his fingers. I took it and unrolled it enough to see a fifty, two twenties, and a ten, and offered it back. That was the only time his eyes got higher; they came clear up to mine, wildly astonished.

'Take it and beat it,' I told him. 'I just wanted a look. Wait a minute.' I went to get the key from Mom and handed that to him too. 'Don’t lend it again without phoning me first. I’ll lock up when I leave.' He was speechless. The poor goof didn’t have enough wits left even to ask my name.

When he had gone Saul and I sat down again. 'You see,' I said genially, 'we’re easily satisfied as long as we get the truth. Now we know how you got in. What did you come for?' Mom had it ready and waiting, having been warned it was going to be required.

'You remember,' she said, 'that my husband thought Louis was a Communist?' I said I did.

'Well, we still thought so-I mean, after what Mr Wolfe told us Monday afternoon.

We still thought so.' 'Who is we?' 'My son and I. We talked it over and we still thought so. Today when my husband told us that Mr Wolfe didn’t believe what Webster said in his statement and it might mean more trouble about it, we thought if we came here and found something to prove that Louis was a Communist and showed it to Mr Wolfe, then it would be all right.' 'It would be all right,' I asked, 'because if he was a Communist Mr Wolfe wouldn’t care who or what killed him'Is that it?' 'Of course, don’t you see?' I asked Saul, 'Do you want it?' 'Not even as a gift,' he said emphatically.

I nodded. I switched to Jimmy. 'Why don’t you take a stab at it'The way your mother’s mind works makes it hard for her. What have you got to offer?' Jimmy’s eyes still looked mean. They were straight at mine. 'I think,' he said glumly, 'that I was a boob to stumble in here like this.' 'Okay. And?' 'I think you’ve got us, damn you.' 'And?' 'I think we’ve got to tell you the truth. If we don’t-' 'Jimmy!' Mom gripped his arm. 'Jimmy!' He ignored her. 'If we don’t you’ll only think it’s something worse. You brought my sister’s name into this, insinuating she had a key to this apartment. I’d like to push that down your throat, and maybe I will some day, but I think we’ve got to tell you the truth, and I can’t help it if it concerns her. She wrote him some letters-not the kind you might think-but anyhow my mother and I knew about them and we didn’t want them around. So we came here to get them.' Mom let go of his arm and beamed at me. 'That was it!' she said eagerly. 'They weren’t really bad letters, but they were-personal. You know?' If I had been Jimmy I would have strangled her. The way he had told it, at least it wasn’t incredible, but her gasping at him when he said he was going to tell the truth, and then reacting that way when he went on to tell it, was enough to make you wonder how she ever got across a street. However, I met her beam with a deadpan. From the expression of Jimmy’s eyes I doubted if another squeeze would produce more juice, and if not, it ought to be left that their truth was mine.

So my deadpan was replaced with a sympathetic grin.

'About how many letters?' I asked Jimmy, just curious.

'I don’t know exactly. About a dozen.' I nodded. 'I can see why you wouldn’t want them kicking around, no matter how innocent they were. But either he destroyed them or they’re some place else. You won’t find them here. Mr Panzer and I have been looking for some papers-nothing to do with your sister or you-and we know how to look. We had just finished when you arrived, and you can take it from me that there’s no letter from your sister here-let alone a dozen. If you want me to sign a statement on that I’d be glad to.' 'You might have missed them,' Jimmy objected, ‘You might,' I corrected him. 'Not us.' 'The papers you were looking for-did you find them?' 'No.' 'What are they?' 'Oh, just something needed for settling his affairs.' 'You say they don’t concern-my family?' 'Nothing to do with your family as far as I know.' I stood up. 'So I guess that ends it. You leave empty-handed and so do we. I might add that there will be no point in my reporting this to Mr Sperling, since he’s no longer our client and since you seem to think it might disturb him.' 'That’s very nice of you, Andy,' Mom said appreciatively. She arose to come to inspect me. 'I’m so sorry about your face!' 'Don’t mention it,' I told her. 'I shouldn’t have startled you. It’ll be okay in a couple of months.' I turned. 'You don’t want that gun, do you, Saul?' Saul took it from his pocket, shook the cartridges into his palm, and went to Jimmy and returned his property.

'I don’t see,' Mom said, 'why we can’t stay and look around some more, just to make sure about those letters.' 'Oh, come on,' Jimmy said rudely.

They went.

Saul and I followed soon after. On our way down in the elevator he asked, 'Did any of that stick at all?' 'Not on me. You?' 'Nope. It was hard to keep my face straight.' 'Do you think I should have kept on trying?' He shook his head. 'There was nothing to pry him loose with. You saw his eyes and his jaw.' Before leaving I had gone to the bathroom for another look at my face, and it was a sight. But the blood had stopped coming, and I don’t mind people staring at me if they’re female, attractive, and between eighteen and thirty; and I had another errand in that part of town. Saul went with me because there was a bare possibility that he could help. It’s always fun to be on a sidewalk with him because you know you are among those present at a remarkable performance. Look at him and all you see is just a guy walking along, but I honestly believe that if you had shown him any one of those people a month later and asked him if he had ever seen that man before, it would have taken him not more than five seconds to reply, 'Yes, just once, on Wednesday, June twenty-second, on Madison Avenue between Thirty-ninth and Fortieth Streets.' He has got me beat a mile.

As it turned out he wasn’t needed for the errand. The building directory on the wall of the marble lobby told us that the offices of Murphy, Kearfot and Rony were on the twenty-eighth floor, and we took the express elevator. It was the suite overlooking the avenue, and everything was up to beehive standard. After one glance I had to reconsider my approach because I hadn’t expected that kind of a set-up. I told the receptionist, who was past my age limit and looked good and tough, that I wanted to see a member of the firm, and gave my name, and went to sit beside Saul on a leather couch. Before long another one, a good match for the receptionist only older, appeared to escort me down a hall and into a corner room with four big double windows.

A big broad-shouldered guy with white hair and deep-set blue eyes, seated at a desk even bigger than Wolfe’s, got up to shake hands with me.

'Archie Goodwin?' he rumbled cordially, as if he had been waiting for this for years. 'From Nero Wolfe’s office'A pleasure. Sit down. I’m Aloysius Murphy.

What can I do for you?' Not having mentioned any name but mine to the receptionist, I felt famous. 'I don’t know,' I told him, sitting. 'I guess you can’t do anything.' 'I could try.' He opened a drawer. 'Have a cigar?' 'No, thanks. Mr Wolfe has been interested in the death of your junior partner, Louis Rony.' 'So I understand.' His face switched instantly from smiling welcome to solemn sorrow. 'A brilliant career brutally snipped as it was bursting into flower.' That sounded to me like Confucius, but I skipped it. 'A damn shame,' I agreed.

'Mr Wolfe has a theory that the truth may be holding out on us.' 'I know he has. A very interesting theory.' 'Yeah, he’s looking into it a little. I guess I might as well be frank. He thought there might be something around Rony’s office-some papers, anything-that might give us a hint. The idea was for me to go and look. For instance, if there were two rooms and a stenographer in one of them, I could fold her up-probably gag her and tie her-if there was a safe I could stick pins under her nails until she gave me the combination-and really do a job. I brought a man along to help, but even with two of us I don’t see how we can-' I stopped because he was laughing so hard he couldn’t hear me. You might have thought I was Bob Hope and had finally found a new one. When I thought it would reach him I protested modestly, 'I don’t deserve all that.' He tapered off to a chuckle. 'I should have met you long ago,' he declared.

'I’ve been missing something. I want to tell you, Archie, and you can tell Wolfe, you can count on us here-all of us-for anything you want.' He waved a hand. 'The place is yours. You won’t have to stick pins in us. Louis’s secretary will show you anything, tell you anything-all of us will. We’ll do everything we can to help you get at the truth. For a high-minded man truth is everything. Who scratched your face?' He was getting on my nerves. He was so glad to have met me at last, and was so anxious to help, that it took me a full five minutes to break loose and get out of the room, but I finally made it.

I marched back to the reception room, beckoned to Saul, and, as soon as we were outside the suite, told him, 'The wrong member of the firm got killed. Compared to Aloysius Murphy, Rony was the flower of truth.'

The pictures came out pretty well, considering. Since Wolfe had told me to order four prints of each, there was about half a bushel. That evening after dinner, as Saul and I sat in the office inspecting and assorting them, it seemed to me there were more of Madeline than I remembered taking, and I left most of them out of the pile we were putting to one side for Wolfe. There were three good ones of Rony-one full-face, one three-quarters, and one profile-and one of the shots of the membership card was something to be proud of. That alone should have got me a job on Life. Webster Kane wasn’t photogenic, but Paul Emerson was.

I remarked on that fact to Wolfe as I went to put his collection on his desk. He grunted. I asked if he was ready for my report for the afternoon, and he said he would go through the pictures first.

Paul Emerson was one of the causes for the delay on my report. Saul and I had got back to the office shortly after six, but Wolfe’s schedule had been shattered by the emergency on the roof, and he didn’t come down until 6.28. At that minute he strode in, turned the radio on and dialled to WPIT, went to his chair behind the desk, and sat with his lips tightened.

The commercial came, and the introduction, and then Emerson’s acid baritone: 'This fine June afternoon it is no pleasure to have to report that the professors are at it again-but then they always are-oh, yes, you can count on the professors. One of them made a speech last night at Boston, and if you have anything left from last week’s pay you’d better hide it under the mattress. He wants us not only to feed and clothe everybody on earth, but educate them also& ' Part of my education was watching Wolfe’s face while Emerson was broadcasting.

His lips, starting fairly tight, kept getting tighter and tighter until there was only a thin straight hairline and his cheeks were puffed and folded like a contour map. When the tension got to a certain point his mouth would pop open, and in a moment close, and it would start over again. I used it to test my powers of observation, trying to spot the split second for the pop.

Minutes later Emerson was taking a crack at another of his pet targets: '& they call themselves World Federalists, this bunch of amateur statesmen, and they want us to give up the one thing we’ve got left-the right to make our own decisions about our own affairs. They think it would be fine if we had to ask permission of all the world’s runts and funny looking dimwits every time we wanted to move our furniture around a little, or even to leave it where it is& ' I anticipated the pop of Wolfe’s mouth by three seconds, which was par. I couldn’t expect to hit it right on the nose. Emerson developed that theme a while and then swung into his finale. He always closed with a snappy swat at some personality whose head was temporarily sticking up from the mob.

'Well, friends and fellow citizens, a certain so-called genius has busted loose again right here in New York, where I live only because I have to. You may have heard of this fat fantastic creature who goes by the good old American name of Nero Wolfe. Just before I went on the air we received here at the studio a Press release from a firm of midtown lawyers-afirmwhich is now minusapartner because one of them, a man named Louis Rony, got killed in an automobile accident Monday night. The authorities have investigated thoroughly and properly, and there is no question about its being an accident or about who was responsible. The authorities know all about it, and so does the public, which means you.

'But this so-called genius knows more than everybody else put together-as usual. Since the regrettable accident took place on the property of a prominent citizen-a man who I have the honour to know as a friend and as a great American-it was too good a chance for the genius to miss, to get some cheap publicity. The Press release from the firm of lawyers states that Nero Wolfe intends to pursue his investigation of Rony’s death until he learns the truth. How do you like that'What do you think of this insolent abuse of the machinery of justice in a free country like ours'If I may be permitted to express an opinion, I think we could get along very well without that kind of a genius in our America.

'Among four-legged brutes there is a certain animal which neither works for its food nor fights for it. A squirrel earns its acorns, and a beast of prey earns its hard-won meal. But this animal skulks among the trees and rocks and tall grass, looking for misfortune and suffering. What a way to live! What a diet that is, to eat misfortune! How lucky we are that it is only among four-legged brutes that we may find such a scavenger as that!

'Perhaps I should apologize, my friends and fellow citizens, for this digression into the field of natural history. Good-bye for another ten days.

Tomorrow, and for the remainder of my vacation, Robert Burr will be with you again in my place. I had to come to town today, and the temptation to come to the studio and talk to you was too much for me. Here is Mr Griswold for my sponsor.' Another voice, as cordial and sunny as Emerson’s was acid, began telling us of the part played by Continental Mines Corporation in the greatness of America. I got up and crossed to the radio to turn it off.

'I hope he spelled your name right,' I remarked to Wolfe. 'What do you know'He went to all that trouble right in the middle of his vacation just to give you a plug. Shall we write and thank him?' No reply. Obviously that was no time to ask if he wanted our report for the afternoon, so I didn’t And later, after dinner, as I have said, he decided to do a survey of the pictures first.

He liked them so much that he practically suggested I should quit detective work and take up photography. There were thirty-eight different shots in the collection I put on his desk. He rejected nine of them, put six in his top drawer, and asked for all four prints of the other twenty-three. As Saul and I got them together I noticed that he had no outstanding favourites. All the family and guests were well represented, and of course the membership card was included. Then they all had to be labelled on the back and placed in separate envelopes, also labelled. He put a rubber band around them and put them in his top drawer.

Again the report got postponed, this time by the arrival of Doc Vollmer. He accepted Wolfe’s offer of a bottle of beer, as he always did when he called in the evening, and after it had been brought by Fritz and his throat was wet he told his story. His reception at White Plains had been neither warm nor cold, he said, just businesslike, and after a phone call to Wolfe an Assistant DA had escorted him to the morgue. As for what he had found, the best he could do was a guess. The centre of the impact of the car’s wheels had been the fifth rib, and the only sign of injury higher on Rony than that was a bruise on the right side of his head, above the ear. Things that had happened to his hips and legs showed that they had been under the car, so his head and shoulders must have been projecting beyond the wheels. It was possible that the head bruise had been caused by contact with the gravel of the drive, but it was also possible that he had been struck on the head with something and knocked out before the car ran over him. If the latter, the instrument had not been something with a sharp edge, or with a limited area of impact like the head of a hammer or wrench, but neither had it had a smooth surface like a baseball bat. It had been blunt and rough and heavy.

Wolfe was frowning. 'A golf club?' 'I shouldn’t think so.' 'A tennis racket?' 'Not heavy enough.' 'A piece of iron pipe?' 'No. Too smooth.' 'A piece of a branch from a tree with stubs of twigs on it?' 'That would be perfect if it were heavy enough.' Vollmer swallowed some beer.

'Of course all I had was a hand glass. With the hair and scalp under a microscope some evidence might be found. I suggested that to the Assistant District Attorney, but he showed no enthusiasm. If there had been an opportunity to snip off a piece I would have brought it home with me, but he didn’t take his eyes off me. Now it’s too late because they were ready to prepare the body for burial’ 'Was the skull cracked?' 'No. Intact. Apparently the medical examiner had been curious too. The scalp had been peeled back and replaced.' 'You couldn’t swear that he had probably been knocked down before the car struck him?' 'Not 'probably'. I could swear he had been hit on the head, and that the blow might have been struck while he was still ereot-as far as my examination went.' 'Confound it,' Wolfe grumbled. 'I hope to simplify matters by forcing those people up there to do some work. You did all you could, Doctor, and I’m grateful.' He turned his head. 'Saul, I understand that Archie gave you some money for safe keeping the other evening?' 'Yes, sir.' 'Have you got it with you?' 'Yes, sir.' 'Please give it to Doctor Vollmer.' Saul got an envelope from his pocket, took some folded bills from it, and stepped to Vollmer to hand them over.

Doc was puzzled. 'What’s this for?' he asked Wolfe.

'For this afternoon, sir. I hope it’s enough?' 'But-I’ll send a bill. As usual.' 'If you prefer it, certainly. But if you don’t mind I wish you’d take my word for it that it is peculiarly fitting to pay you with that money for examining Mr Rony’s head in an effort to learn the truth about his death. It pleases my fancy if it doesn’t offend yours. Is it enough?' Doc unfolded the bills and took a look. 'It’s too much.' 'Keep it. It should be that money, and all of it.' Doc stuck it in his pocket. 'Thanks. Anything to be mysterious.' He picked up his beer glass. 'As soon as I finish this, Archie, I’ll take a look at your face. I knew you’d try to close in too fast some day.' I replied suitably.

After he had gpne I finally reported for Saul and me. Wolfe leaned back and listened to the end without interrupting. In the middle of it Fred Durkin and Orrie Gather arrived, admitted by Fritz, and I waved them to seats and resumed.

When I explained why I hadn’t insisted on something better than Jimmy’s corny tale about letters Gwenn had written Rony, in spite of the way Mom had scrambled it for him, Wolfe nodded in approval, and when I explained why I had walked out of the law office of Murphy, Kearfot and Rony without even trying to look in a wastebasket, he nodded again. One reason I like to work for him is that he never rides me for not acting the way he would act. He knows what I can do and that’s all he ever expects; but he sure expects that.

When I got to the end I added, 'If I may make a suggestion, why not have one of the boys find out where Aloysius Murphy was at nine-thirty Monday evening'I’d be glad to volunteer. I bet he’s a D and a Commie both, and if he didn’t kill Rony he ought to be framed for it. You ought to meet him.' Wolfe grunted. 'At least the afternoon wasn’t wasted. You didn’t find the membership card?' 'Yeah, I thought that was how you’d take it.' 'And you met Mrs Sperling and her son. How sure are you that he invented those letters?' I shrugged. 'You heard me describe it.' 'You, Saul?' 'Yes, sir. I agree with Archie.' 'Then that settles it.' Wolfe sighed. 'This is a devil of a mess.' He looked at Fred and Orrie. 'Come up closer, will you'I’ve got to say something.' Fred and Orrie moved together, but not alike. Fred was some bigger than Orrie.

When he did anything at all, walk or talk or reach for something, you always expected him to trip or fumble, but he never did, and he could tail better than anybody I know except Saul, which I could never understand. Fred moved like a bear, but Orrie like a cat. Orrie’s strong point was getting people to tell him things. It wasn’t so much the questions he asked. As a matter of fact, he wasn’t very good at questions, it was just the way he looked at them. Something about him made people feel that he ought to be told things.

Wolfe’s eyes took in the four of us. He spoke.

'As I said, we’re in a mess. The man we were investigating has been killed, and I think he was murdered. He was an outlaw and a blackguard, and I owe him nothing. But I am committed, by circumstances I prefer not to disclose, to find out who killed him and why, and, if it was murder, to get satisfactory evidence.

We may find that the murderer is one who, by the accepted standards, deserves to live as richly as Mr Rony deserved to die. I can’t help that; he must be found.

Whether he must also be exposed I don’t know. I’ll answer that question when I am faced by it, and that will come only when I am also facing the murderer.' Wolfe turned a hand over. 'Why am I giving you this lecture'Because I need your help and will take it only on my own terms. If you work with me on this and we find what we’re looking for, a murderer, with the required evidence, any one or all of you may know all that I know, or at least enough to give you a right to share in the decision: what to do about it. That’s what I won’t accept. I reserve that right solely to myself. I alone shall decide whether to expose him, and if I decide not to, I shall expect you to concur; and if you concur you will be obliged to say or do nothing that will conflict with my decision. You’ll have to keep your mouths shut, and that is a burden not to be lightly assumed. So before we get too far I’m giving you this chance to stay out of it.' He pressed a button on his desk. 'I’ll drink some beer while you think it over.

Will you have some?' Since it was the first group conference we had had for a long time, all five of us, I thought it should be done right, so I went to the kitchen, and Fritz and I collaborated. It was nothing fancy-a bourbon and soda for Saul, and gin fizzes for Orrie and me, and beer for Fred Durkin and Wolfe. Straight rye with no chaser was Fred’s drink, but I had never been able to talk him out of the notion that he would offend Wolfe if he didn’t take beer when invited. So while the rest of us sat and enjoyed what we liked, Fred sipped away at what I had heard him call slop.

Since they were supposed to be thinking something over, they tried to look thoughtful, and I tactfully filled in by giving Wolfe a few sidelights on the afternoon, such as the bottle of Scotch Rony had kept in the bond box. But it was too much for Saul, who hated to mark time. When his highball was half gone he lifted the glass, drained it, put it down and spoke to Wolfe.

'What you were saying. If you want me to work on this, all I expect is to get paid. If I get anything for you, then it’s yours. My mouth doesn’t need any special arrangement to keep it shut.' Wolfe nodded. 'I know you’re discreet, Saul. All of you are. But this time what you’ll get for me may be evidence that would convict a murderer if it were used, and there’s a possibility that it may not be used. That would be a strain.' 'Yes, sir. I’ll make out all right. If you can stand it I can.' 'What the hell,' Fred blurted. 'I don’t get it. What do you think we’d do, play pattycake with the cops?' 'It’s not that,' Orrie told him impatiently. 'He knows how we like cops. Maybe you never heard about having a conscience,' 'Never did. Describe it to me.' 'I can’t I’m too sophisticated to have one and you’re too primitive.' 'Then there’s no problem.' 'There certainly isn’t.' Orrie raised his glass. 'Here’s to crime, Mr Wolfe.