If Death Ever Slept (15 page)

Saturday

Told at 11:05 to come to library to join party with asst. DA, makes it at 11:45. 1:35 lunch with others. 2:30 to Clarinda Day's. 3:45 to movie at Duke's Screen Box on Park Avenue. 5:30 home to dress for early dinner. 8:10 to theater with OJ.

Sunday

Up at noon, big breakfast again. On terrace with papers. 2:00 went to park, back at 3:00, went to studio to watch television, is wakened by WJ at 5:00 for bridge with OJ, WJ, & NK. At 6:10 AG announces Corey Brigham's death.

WYMAN JARRELL

Thursday

9:30 breakfast with OJ, LJ, NK, & AG. 10:30 to 12:15, on terrace reading play in manuscript. 12:45 arrives at Sardi's and has lunch with three men to discuss financing of play he may produce (two of them have verified it). 2:45 to 4:30, auditions for casting play at Drew Theatre. 4:35 to 6:30, at Metropolitan Athletic Club, watching handball & drinking. 6:45 meets Susan at Sardi's, dinner, theater, home, bed.

Friday

9:30 family conference in library, then breakfast. Reads papers, waits around with SJ until Rowcliff has come & gone. In library with OJ & NK until 1:22, when phone call comes from AG; leaves, cashes check at bank, then to his office in Paramount Bldg. Lunch at Sardi's with same three men as on Thursday. 3:00 back to his office, gets call from OJ telling him to be at NW office at 6:00. Gets call from SJ. 3:45 SJ comes for him in Jaguar, they drive up to Briscoll's in Westchester for a drink, then back to town, arriving NW at 5:56. From there on with others as under OJ.

Saturday

9:10 breakfast with SJ, LJ, & AG. 10:10 in library with OJ until 11:00, when asst. DA arrives. 1:35 lunch with others. 3:00 meets Corey Brigham at Churchill men's bar, with him until 3:50. 4:00 to 5:40 with OJ at Metropolitan Athletic Club; they go home together, arriving at 6:00 for early dinner, 8:15 to theater with SJ.

Sunday

10:00 breakfast with SJ, LJ, NK, & AG. Reads papers and does crossword puzzles until 1:30 lunch with OJ, SJ, & AG. 2:40 leaves for Drew Theatre to hear auditions. 4:40 leaves theater, gets home at 5:00, goes to studio and wakes TJ, bridge with OJ, TJ, & NK. At 6:10 AG announces Corey Brigham's death.

SUSAN JARRELL

Thursday

10:30 breakfast alone. To Masson's, jeweler, 52nd & 5th Ave., to leave watch. Walks to park & in park, then home at 1:30 for lunch with OJ, TJ, & AG. 2:45 back to Masson's to get watch; buys stockings at Merrihew's, 58th & Madison. Arrives Clarinda Day's at 4:00, leaves at 6:30, meets WJ at Sardi's at 6:45. Dinner, theater, home, bed.

Friday

9:30 family conference in library, then breakfast. Waits around with WJ until Rowcliff has come & gone. 12:10 goes to Abingdon's, florist at 65th & Madison, to order plants for terrace. Back home. 1:45 lunch with OJ, LJ, & RF, is told to be at NW office at 6:00. Rings WJ's office three times, gets him at 3:20, gets Jaguar and goes for him. Rest of day & evening, corroborates WJ.

Saturday

9:10 breakfast with WJ, LJ, & AG. On terrace until 11:15, joins party in library with asst. DA. 1:35 lunch with others. 2:45 goes to Abingdon's to look at plants. Home at 3:45, in room until 4:40, leaves, arrives Clarinda Day's 5:05, leaves at 6:15, is late at home for early dinner. 8:15 to theater with WJ.

Sunday

10:00 breakfast with WJ, LJ, NK, & AG. 10:30 leaves for St. Thomas Church, 53rd & 5th Ave. After church walks home, arriving at 1:15. 1:30 lunch with OJ, WJ, & AG. Reads papers, looks at television, goes to room and takes nap, back to television at 5:30, is there with AG at 6:00 when news comes about Corey Brigham.

LOIS JARRELL

Thursday

9:30 breakfast with OJ, WJ, NK, & AG. 10:15 to 11:30 on terrace reading. 11:45 to 1:00 buying shoes at three shops: Zussman's, Yorio's, and Weeden's. Bought seven pairs altogether, not liking to go barefoot. 1:15 lunch at party on steamship Bolivar at dock in Hudson River. 3:00 got car from garage & drove to Net Club in Riverdale, tennis until 6:00. Home at 6:35 to change. Left at 7:30 for dinner and dancing with a group at Flamingo Club; wish I had been there.

Friday

Up at 7:00 for breakfast & ride on a horse in park. Home just in time for family conference in library at 9:30. Drives to Net Club for an hour of tennis, home at 1:15. 1:45 lunch with OJ, SJ, & RF, is told to be at NW office at 6:00. 3:00 to Evangeline's, 49th Street near Madison, to try on clothes. Home at 5:20, leaves at 5:30 with RF & NK to taxi to NW. From there on with others as under OJ.

Saturday

Up at 7:00 to ride in park, back for breakfast at 9:10 with WJ, SJ, & AG. Cancels tennis date because of party in library with asst. DA at 11:15. 1:35 lunch with others. 2:30 takes nap in her room. 4:15 goes for walk, goes to Abingdon's & cancels Susan's order for plants for terrace. Home at 5:45, dresses for early dinner. 8:20 goes with AG to Flamingo Club, home at 2:00 a.m.

Sunday

10:00 breakfast with WJ, SJ, NK, & AG. Goes for walk with AG, at 11:30 takes taxi to apartment of friends named Buchanan, 185 East River Drive, goes with them to Net Club for lunch, tennis, drinks. Home at 6:40, learns about Corey Brigham.

NORA KENT

Thursday

9:30 breakfast with OJ, WJ, LJ, & AG. Library all morning, lunch alone there, remains there alone until OJ returns at 6:00. After cocktails & dinner, pinochle with TJ & RF.

Friday

8:45 breakfast. 9:30 family conference in library. 11:00 with OJ when Rowcliff comes. Lunches in library, learns caliber of bullet that killed Eber, leaves at 1:45 to go to see NW. Home at 3:10, in library until 5:30, leaves with LJ & RF to go to the meeting at NW. From there on with others as under OJ.

Saturday

8:30 breakfast with OJ, then with him to library. 10:10 WJ comes for talk with OJ & she is told to beat it. In her room until 11:15, when she joins party in library with asst. DA. 1:35 lunch with others. 2:30 back to library with OJ; he leaves at 3:40. 3:45 gets phone call from Abingdon's about plants; she goes and cancels orders given by both SJ & LJ. Goes shopping, buys various personal items not specified. 5:45 gets home, dresses for early dinner. 7:50 leaves for meeting of Professional Women's League at Vassar Club, 58th Street. Home at 11:10.

Sunday

10:00 breakfast with WJ, SJ, LJ, & AG. 10:50 goes to church at 5th Ave. Presbyterian, 55th St. Lunch at Borgner's on 6th Ave., then to Picasso show at Modern Museum, 53rd St. Home at 5:00 for bridge with OJ, TJ, & WJ. At 6:10 AG announces Corey Brigham's death.

ROGER FOOTE

Thursday

7:00 breakfast alone. To Jamaica race track, loses $60 I lent him, home at 6:00. After cocktails and dinner, pinochle with TJ & NK.

Friday

9:30 family conference in library, then breakfast. On terrace & in his room until 1:45, then lunch with OJ, SJ, & LJ, is told to be at NW office at 6:00. 2:50 leaves to go to 49th Street to see if he can get into Eber's apartment to look for a record, if any, of the fact that he owed Eber $335. No luck, apartment sealed. Calls on a lawyer he knows, unnamed, to find out where he stands. Gets home at 5:00, goes to library to try to borrow $335 from OJ, is turned down. 5:30 leaves with LJ & NK for NW office.

Saturday

10:15 breakfast alone. 11:15 joins party with asst. DA in library. 1:35 lunch with others. 2:45 goes to Mitchell's Riding Academy on West 108th Street to look at a horse. 3:45 returns home and plays solitaire in his room until time for early dinner. After dinner invites AG to play gin, AG declines. Goes to bed at 9:00.

Sunday

7:00 breakfast alone. To Belmont race track to look at horses. Home at 7:00 p.m., learns about Corey Brigham. Has given police details of his day at Belmont, but they are too confused & complicated to be worth copying.

AT A QUARTER PAST TEN Thursday morning, Memorial Day, I arrived at Jamaica race track to start the damnedest four days of detecting, or non-detecting, that I have ever put in.

After Wolfe had picked up the timetables, at six o'clock Wednesday, he had read them in twenty minutes, and then had gone over them for more than an hour, until dinner time. Back in the office after dinner, he had asked a few dozen assorted questions. What did I know about Mr. and Mrs. Herman Dietz'Practically nothing. Had Trella Jarrell's hour in the park from two o'clock to three on Sunday been checked'No, and probably it never would be. If I wanted to leave a revolver in Central Park where I was reasonably certain it wouldn't be discovered for three days, but where I could get it when I wanted it, where would I hide it'I made three suggestions, none of them any good, and said I'd have to think it over. Who was Clarinda Day'She was a woman who ran an establishment on 48th Street just off Fifth Avenue where women could get almost anything done that occurred to them-to their hair, their faces, their necks, their busts, their waists, their hips, their legs, their knees, their calves, their ankles-and where they could sweat, freeze, rest, or exercise forty-two different ways. Her customers ran all the way from stenographers to multi-millionairesses.

Did Nora Kent have keys to all the files in Jarrell's library and the combination to the safes'Don't know. Had a thorough search been made of the Jarrell duplex'Yes; a regiment of experts, with Jarrell's permission, had spent all day Tuesday at it. Including the library'Yes, with Jarrell present. Who had told me so'Purley Stebbins. Where was the Metropolitan Athletic Club'Central Park South, 59th Street. How long would it take to get from where the steamship Bolivar was docked to Eber's apartment on 49th Street'Between ten and thirty minutes, depending on traffic. Average, say eighteen minutes. How difficult would it have been for Nora Kent to get from the library to the street, and, later, back in again, without being observed'With luck, using the service entrance, fairly simple. Without luck, impossible.

Etc.

At ten-thirty Wolfe leaned back and said, 'Instructions.'

'Yes, sir.'

'Before you go to bed get Saul, Fred, and Orrie, and ask them to be here at eleven in the morning.'

'Yes, sir.'

'Tomorrow is a holiday. I don't suppose Miss Bonner will be at her office. If possible, get her tonight and ask her to breakfast with me at eight.'

I looked at him. He meant business, though what business I couldn't say. Add his opinion of women to his opinion of other detectives, and you get his opinion of female detectives. Circumstances had compelled him to use Dol Bonner a year or so back, but now he was asking for it, and even inviting her to breakfast. Fritz would be on needles.

'I have her home number,' I told him, 'and I'll try, but she may already be gone for the long week end. If so, is it urgent enough to dig her out?'

'Yes. I want her. Now for you. You will go early in the morning to Jamaica race track and-'

'No racing at Jamaica now. It's closed.'

'What about Belmont?'

'Open. Big day tomorrow.'

'Then we'll see. You will act on this hypothesis: that Roger Foote took Jarrell's gun and hid it in his room or elsewhere on the premises. Thursday afternoon he shot Eber with it. Since he intended to say he had spent the day at Jamaica, he went there so as to be seen, and he hid the gun somewhere there. To speculate as to why he hid it instead of disposing of it is pointless; we know he did hide it because it was used again on Sunday. Either he hid it at Jamaica or, having made an appearance there, he went to Belmont and hid it there. In either case, on Sunday he went and retrieved it, returned to New York, met Brigham by appointment, and killed him. Acting on that hypothesis, your job is to learn where he left the gun from Thursday to Sunday, and you may start either at Jamaica or at Belmont. It's barely possible you'll even find the gun. He may have thought he might have further use for it and went back and hid it again in the same place after killing Brigham. He didn't get home Sunday until seven o'clock.'

I said-not an objection, just a fact-'Of course he had all of New York City too.'

'I know, but that's hopeless. He had to go to Jamaica on Thursday and to Belmont on Sunday, to be seen, and since we know he was there we'll look there. We know little or nothing of his movements in New York City; we know of no place particularly available to him where he could hide a gun and count on getting it again. First explore the possibilities at Jamaica and Belmont.'

I explored them for four straight days, equipped with five hundred bucks in small bills from cash reserve and eight pictures of Roger Foote, procured early Thursday morning from the files at the Gazette. I went to Jamaica first because Belmont would have such a mob on the holiday that I would merely have got trampled.

Meanwhile, throughout the four days, Wolfe presumably had the gang busy working on other hypotheses-including Dol Bonner-though he never told me who was after what, except that I gathered Saul Panzer was on Otis Jarrell himself. That was a compliment to the former client, since Saul's rate was sixty bucks a day and expenses and he was worth at least five times that. Fred Durkin was good but no Saul Panzer. Orrie Cather, whom you have seen at my desk, was yes and no. On some tricks he was unbeatable, but on others not so hot. As for Dol Bonner, I didn't know much about her firsthand, but the word around was that if you had to have a female dick she was it. She had her own office and a staff-with one of which, Sally Colt, I was acquainted.

By Sunday night I knew enough about Jamaica and Belmont, especially Belmont, to write a book, with enough left over for ten magazine articles. I knew four owners, nine trainers, seventeen stable boys, five jockeys, thirteen touts, twenty-eight miscellaneous characters, one lamb, three dogs, and six cats, to speak to. I had aroused the suspicions of two track dicks and become close friends with one. I had seen two hundred and forty-seven girls it would have been fun to talk to but was too busy. I had seen about the same number of spots where a gun could be hid, but could find no one who had seen Roger Foote near any of them. None of them held a gun at the time I called, nor could I detect any trace of oil or other evidence that a gun had been there. One of them, a hole in a tree the other side of the backstretch, was so ideal that I was tempted to hide my own gun in it. Another good place would have been the bottom of a rack outside Gallant Man's stall, but there were too many eagle eyes around. Peach Fuzz wasn't there.

Sunday night I told Wolfe there was nothing left to explore unless he wanted me to start looking in horses' mouths, and he said he would have new instructions in the morning.

But he never gave them to me, for a little after ten on Monday a call came inviting me to visit the DA's office, and, after buzzing Wolfe in the plant rooms to tell him where to find me, I went. After thirty minutes with Mandelbaum and a dick I knew one thing, that the several hundred city and county employees working on the case had got exactly as far as I had at Jamaica and Belmont. After another thirty minutes I knew another thing, that the police commissioner and the district attorney had decided it had become necessary to find out what I was doing at Jarrell's under an assumed name, no matter how Jarrell felt about it. I said I wanted to phone Mr. Wolfe and was told that all the phones were busy. At noon I was taken in to the DA himself and had forty minutes with him that did neither of us any good. At one o'clock I was allowed to take my pick of ham or turkey in a sandwich; no corned beef. I insisted on milk and got it. At two-thirty I decided it had gone far enough and was walking out, but was stopped. Held as a material witness. Then, of course, they had to let me make a phone call, and within ten minutes there was a call for Mandelbaum from Nathaniel Parker, who is Wolfe's lawyer when Wolfe is driven to the extremity of using one.

I didn't get locked up at all. The DA had another try at me and then sent me into another room with a dick named O'Leary, and in two hours I won $3.12 from him at gin. I was perfectly willing to give him a chance to get it back, but someone came and took me to Mandelbaum's room, and Nathaniel Parker was there. As I shook hands with him Mandelbaum warned me not to leave the jurisdiction, and I said I wanted it in writing, and he said to go to hell, and I said I didn't know that was in the jurisdiction, and Parker steered me out.

Down on the sidewalk I asked him, 'How high am I priced this time?'

'No bail, Archie. No warrant. I persuaded Mandelbaum that the circumstances didn't call for it, and promised that you will be available when needed.'

I was a little disappointed because being out on bail is good for the ego. It gives you a sense of importance, of being wanted; it makes you feel that people care. However, I didn't reproach Parker; he had acted for the best. We took a taxi together uptown, but he said he had a dinner appointment and didn't get out when we reached the old brownstone on West 35th Street. So I thanked him for the rescue and the lift. As I crossed the sidewalk to the stoop my wrist watch said 6:23.

Wolfe, at his desk reading a book, lifted his eyes to grunt a greeting and returned them to the book. I went to my desk to see if there were any memos for me, found none, sat, and inquired, 'Anything happen?'

He said no, without looking up.

'Parker said to give you his regards. I am not under bail. He talked Mandelbaum out of it.'

He grunted.

'They've decided that Jarrell's private affairs are no longer private. They'll be after you any time, in the morning at the latest. Do you want a report?'

He said no, without looking up.

'Any instructions?'

He lifted his eyes, said, 'I'm reading, Archie,' and lowered them back to the book.

The best thing to throw at him would have been the typewriter, but I didn't own it. Next best would have been the telephone, but I didn't own that, either, and the cord wasn't long enough. I got up and left, mounted the two flights to my room, showered, decided not to shave, put on a clean shirt and a lighter suit, and was sewing buttons on pajamas when Fritz called up that dinner was ready.

It was at the table that I caught on that something was up. Wolfe wasn't being crusty because the outlook was dark; he was being smug because he had tasted blood, or was expecting to. He always enjoyed his food, whether in spite of circumstances or in harmony with them, and after ten thousand meals with him I knew all the shades. The way he spread pate on a cracker, the way he picked up the knife to slice the filet of beef in aspic, the way he used his fork on the salad, the way he made his choice from the cheese platter-no question about it, he had something or somebody by the tail, or at least the tail was in sight.

I was thinking that when we were back in the office with coffee he might think it was time to let me have a taste too, but no. After taking three sips he picked up his book. That was a little too much, and I was deciding whether to go after him head on or take him from the flank, when the doorbell rang and I went to answer it. In view of Wolfe's behavior I wouldn't have been surprised if it had been the whole gang, all seven of them, with a joint confession in triplicate signed and ready to deliver, but it was merely a middle-aged man in a light brown suit and no hat whom I had never seen before.

When I opened the door he spoke before I did. 'Is this Nero Wolfe's house?'

'Right.'

'Are you Archie Goodwin?'

'Right again.'

'Okay.' He extended a hand with a little package. 'This is for Nero Wolfe.'

I took it and he turned and was going. I told him to wait, but he called over his shoulder, 'No receipt,' and kept going. I looked at the package. It was the size of a box of kitchen matches, wrapped in brown paper, fastened with Scotch tape, and if it bore any name or address it was in invisible ink.

I shut the door and returned to the office and told Wolfe, 'The man who handed me this said it was for you, but I don't know how he knew. There's no name on it. It doesn't tick. Shall I open it under water?'

'As you please. It's hardly large enough to be dangerous.'

That seemed optimistic, remembering the size of the capsule that had once exploded in that office inside a metal percolator, blowing the percolator lid at the wall, missing Wolfe's head by an inch. However, I could stand it if he could. I got out my knife to cut the tape, removed the paper wrapping, and disclosed a cardboard box with no label. Putting it on the desk midway between us, which was only fair, I eased the lid off. Cotton. I lifted the cotton, and there was more cotton, with an object resting in its center. Bending over for a close-up, I straightened and announced, 'A thirty-eight bullet. Isn't that interesting?'

'Extremely.' He reached for the box and gave it a look. 'Very interesting. You're sure it's a thirty-eight?'

'Yes, sir. Quite a coincidence.'

'It is indeed.' He put the box down. 'Who brought it?'

'A stranger. Too bad I didn't invite him in.'

'Yes. Of course there are various possibilities-among them, that some prankster sent it.'

'Yeah. So I toss it in the wastebasket?'

'I don't think so. There is at least one other possibility that can't be ignored. You've had a long day and I dislike asking it, but you might take it to Mr. Cramer, tell him how we got it, and suggest that it be compared with the bullets that killed Mr. Eber and Mr. Brigham.'

'Uh-huh. In time, say in a week or so, that might have occurred to me myself. My mind's not as quick as yours.' I replaced the top layer of cotton and put the lid on. 'I'd better take the wrapping paper too. If the bullet matches, and it just might, he'll want it. Incidentally, he'll want me too. If I take him a thirty-eight bullet, with that suggestion, and with that story of how we got it, I'll have to shoot my way out if you want to see me again tonight.'

'The devil.' He was frowning, 'You're quite right. That won't do.' He thought a moment. 'Your notebook. A letter to Mr. Cramer.'

I got at my desk and took notebook and pen.