Rex Stout - Nero Wolfe 24 (21 page)

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Authors: Three Men Out

Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Mystery & Detective, #Political, #Wolfe; Nero (Fictitious Character), #Detective and Mystery Stories, #Private Investigators, #Westerns, #New York, #Private Investigators - New York (State) - New York - Fiction, #New York (State), #Wolfe; Nero (Fictitious Character) - Fiction

BOOK: Rex Stout - Nero Wolfe 24
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“I do not have fainting spells,” he said apologetically, “but at the moment I am a little unstrung. Seeing my niece here with you was a real shock for me. I came back here to consider what it might mean, but reached no conclusion. Perhaps you’ll explain?”

“Your niece will. Tell him, Lila.”

She started to twist around in the chair, but he commanded her, “No, my dear, stay as you were. Face Mr. Goodwin.” He took another sniff at the bottle, keeping it in his hand.

She obeyed. “It’s Bill,” she said. “They’re going to arrest him for murder, and they mustn’t. They won’t, if we tell them how you offered to pay him for fixing the game and he wouldn’t do it. He won’t tell them on account of me, so we have to. I know I promised you I wouldn’t, but now I’ve got to. You see how it is, Uncle Dan, I’ve got to. I told Mr. Goodwin, to get him to come along. The best way—”

“You haven’t told the police, Lila dear?”

“No. I thought the best way was to come and get you to go with me, and I was afraid to come alone, because I know how bad it will be for you—but it will be worse for Bill if we don’t. Don’t you see, Uncle—”

“Keep your back turned, Lila. I insist on it. That’s right, stay that way.” He had been talking in an even low tone, but now it became thin and strained, as though his throat had tightened. “I’ll tell why I want your back to me, so I can’t see your face. Remember, Goodwin, don’t move. This is a bottle of pure sulphuric acid. I was smelling it just to explain why I had it; of course it has no smell. I suppose you know what it will do. This bottle is nearly full, and I’m holding it carefully, because one drop on your skin will
scar you for life. That’s why I want your back to me, Lila. I’m very fond of you—sit still! And I don’t want to see your face if I have to use this acid. If you move, Lila dear, I’ll use it. Or you, Goodwin—especially you. I hope you both understand?”

Lila was stiff, white, pop-eyed, gazing at me. I may have been stiff too; anyhow, I didn’t move. His hand holding the bottle was raised, hovering six inches above her head. She looked as if she might keel over, and I urged her, “Sit tight, Lila, and for God’s sake don’t scream.”

“Yes,” Uncle Dan said approvingly, “I should have mentioned that. Screaming would be as bad as moving. I had to tell you about the acid before I discussed matters. I’m not surprised at your fantastic suggestion, Lila, because I know how foolish you can be, but I’m surprised at you, Goodwin. How would you expect me to take a suggestion that I consent to my complete ruin? When I saw her and recognized you I knew she must have told you. Of course you couldn’t know what kind of man you had to deal with, but you know now. Did Lila persuade you that I am an utter fool, a jellyfish?”

“I guess she must have,” I admitted. “What kind of a man are you?”

He proceeded to tell me, and I proceeded to pretend I was listening. I also tried to keep my eyes on his pale tight-skinned face, but that wasn’t easy because they were fascinated by the damn bottle he was holding. Meanwhile my brain was buzzing. Unless he was plain loony the only practical purpose of the bottle must be to gain time, and for what?

“… and I will,” he was saying. “This won’t kill you, Lila dear, but it will be horrible, and I don’t want to do it unless I have to. Only you mustn’t think I won’t. You don’t really know me very well, because to you I’m just Uncle Dan. You didn’t know that I once had a million dollars and I was an important man and a dangerous man. There were people who knew me and feared me, but I was unlucky. I have gambled and made fortunes, and lost them. That affects a man’s nerves. It changes a man’s outlook on life. I borrowed enough money to buy this place, and for years I worked hard and did well—well enough to pay it all back, but that was my ruin. I owed nothing and had a
little cash and decided to celebrate by losing a hundred dollars to some old friends—just a hundred dollars—but I didn’t lose, I won several thousand. So I went on and lost what I had won, and I lost this place. I don’t own this place, my friends do. They are very old friends, and they gave me a chance to get this place back. I’m telling you about this, Lila dear, because I want you to understand. I came to you and Bill with that offer because I had to, and you promised me, you swore you would tell no one. I have been an unlucky man, and sometimes a weak one, but I am never going to be weak again—don’t move!”

Lila, who had lifted her head a little, stiffened. I sat gazing at Gale. Obviously he was stalling for time, but what could he expect to happen? It could be only one thing: he expected somebody to come. He expected help. Then he had asked for it, and it was no trick to guess when. As soon as he had seen us he had scooted back here to phone somebody. Help was on the way, and it had to be the kind of help that would deal with Lila and me efficiently and finally; and bigtime gamblers who can provide ten grand to fix a game are just the babies to be ready with that kind of help. In helping with Lila and me they would probably also settle Uncle Dan, since they like to do things right, but that was his lookout, not mine.

Either he was loony or that was it. Doping that was a cinch, but then what? They might come any second; he couldn’t be expected to stand and dangle the damn bottle all night; they might be entering the drugstore right now. At a knock on the door he would reach behind him and push the bolt—and here they are. Any second…

He was talking. “… I didn’t think you would, Lila, after all I’ve done for you. You promised me you wouldn’t. Now, of course, you’ve told Goodwin and it can’t be helped. If I just tip this bottle a little, not much—”

“Nuts,” I said emphatically, but not raising my voice. “You haven’t got it staged right.” I had my eyes straight at his specs. “Maybe you don’t want to see her face, but the way you’ve got her, with her back to you, it’s no good. What if she suddenly ducked and dived forward? You might get some on her clothes or her feet, but the chair would be in your way. Have you considered that? Better still, what if she suddenly darted sideways in between
those cartons? The instant she moved I would be moving too, and that would take her out of my path, and before you could get at her with that stuff I’d be there. She’d be taking a chance, but what the hell, that would be better than sitting there waiting for the next act. Unquestionably it would be better for her to go sideways, with her head down and her arms out. You see how bum your arrangement is? But if you make her turn around facing you—”

She moved. She went sideways, to her left, her head down and her arms out, diving for the cartons.

I lost a tenth of a second because I hadn’t dared to pull my feet back ready for the spring, but that was all I lost. I didn’t leap, I just went, with all the force my leg muscles could give it. My target was the bottom of the left front leg of the chair, and I went in flat, face down, and had the leg before he could get under way. The impact of the chair knocked him back against the door, and I kept going and grabbed his ankle and jerked. Of course the bottle could have landed right on me, but I had to get him off his feet. As I yanked his ankle I kept my face down, and as he tumbled I felt nothing hit me. The next thing I knew I was on top of him, pinning him, with a grip on his throat, looking around for the bottle. It had never reached the floor. It had landed on a carton six feet to my right and was there on its side, the stuff gurgling out. The floor slanted toward the wall, and no flood threatened me.

“Okay, Lila,” I said. “I need help.”

She was scrambling to her feet. “Did he—did it—” She giggled.

“No. If you have hysterics I’ll tell Bill. Slap yourself, I can’t. It’s there on a carton, and don’t go near it.”

“But he—my God, he—”

“Shut up. Company’s coming, and we’ve got to get out of here. I want some adhesive tape, quick. Find some.” She moved and started looking on shelves and in drawers. I kept talking, thinking it would help. “A drugstore is a handy place—sulphuric acid, adhesive tape, everything you might need. Watch your step; it’s spreading on the floor. When I said I was good with uncles I didn’t mean uncles like him. He’s a lulu. He may have been—”

“Here it is.”

“Good girl. Tear off a piece six inches long—that’s it.
No, you’ll have to do it; if I turn loose of his throat he’ll squawk. Across his mouth, good and tight—not that way, diagonal. That’s right. Now one the other way. That ought to do it, thank you, nurse. Now find some nice sterile bandage …”

She found that too and held his arms while I sat on his knees and tied his ankles. Then I fastened his wrists behind him and anchored the strip of bandage to the handle of a locked drawer. I squatted for a look at the tape on his mouth, gave it a rub, stood up, went to the door and pushed the bolt, and told her, “Come on.”

“But we ought to make—”

“Come on, damn it! If company is on its way, and I think it is, it won’t be bottle-danglers. If you like this place you can stay, but I’m going. Well?”

I opened the door, and she passed through. I followed and pulled the door to. There were customers on the fountain stools, though not the same ones, and Henry was selling a man a pack of cigarettes. I paused on my way to the street door to tell him that Mr. Gale would be out soon, then opened the door for Lila. On the sidewalk I told Lila to go wait in the car while I made a phone call. Then I saw she was trembling all over, so I escorted her and got her safely on the front seat.

Up twenty paces was a bar and grill, and I walked to it, entered, found a phone booth, dialed WA 9–8241, asked for Sergeant Purley Stebbins, and got him. He wanted to know if I was up at the Polo Grounds.

I told him no. “Where I am,” I said, “is top secret. I’m giving you a hot one. Put this down; Gale’s Pharmacy, nine-two-three-two Eighth Avenue. Get a prowl car there fast, and plenty of reinforcements. Gale, the owner, on information received, was the go-between for the gamblers who fixed the ball game. He is in the back room of his store, gagged and tied. The reason—”

“Is
this
a gag?”

“No. The reas—”

“Where are you?”

“Quit interrupting or I’ll ring off. The reason for the hurry is that I think Gale sent for a rescue squad to deal with certain parties who are no longer there, and it would be nice to get there in time to welcome them. So PD cars
should not park in front. Be sure to tell them not to step in the stuff on the floor that looks like water, because it’s sulphuric acid. That’s all. Got the address?”

“Yes, and I want—”

“Sorry, I’ve got a date. This could make you a lieutenant. Step on it.”

I went out and back to the car. Lila was on the driver’s side, gripping the steering wheel with both hands. As I opened the door her head turned to me.

“Move over,” I said. “I’ll do the driving this time.”

She slid across, and I got in and pulled the door to. I sat. Half a minute went by.

“Where are we going?” she asked. Her voice was so low and weak I barely got it.

“Polo Grounds. Where Bill is.” Maybe he was.

“Why don’t we start?”

“I phoned for cops. If others come before the cops do I want to get a look at them. In case I forget it later, I want to mention that that was a beautiful dive you made, and the timing couldn’t have been better. I’m for you—only spiritual, of course, since you’re happily married.”

“I want to get away from here. I want to see Bill.”

“You will. Relax.”

We sat, but not for long. It couldn’t have been more than four minutes before a pair of cops swung around the corner, headed for the entrance to Gale’s Pharmacy, and entered. Glancing at Lila and seeing that her eyes were closed, I pushed the starter button.

7

It was only half an hour short of midnight when I stopped the Curtis at the curb across the street from the main entrance to the Polo Grounds. The mob had dwindled to a few small knots, and of the long line of police cars only three were left. Two cops were having a těte-à-těte in front of the entrance, and another one was leaning against a wall.

Lila was a quick mover. She had got out and circled the car to my side by the time I hit the pavement and shut the door. I gave her the ignition key, and we were
crossing the street when suddenly she let out a squawk and gripped my arm, and then let go and started to run. I took another step and stopped. Bill Moyse was there, emerging from the entrance, with a dick on either side of him and one behind. Lila ended her run in a flying leap and was on him. The startled dicks were on her, or anyway at her. They were vocalizing, and so were Bill and Lila. The two uniformed cops started toward them.

I would have liked to deliver Lila to Wolfe, or at least to Hennessy, but there was a fat chance of tearing her loose from her second-string catcher. Also I did not care to get hung up explaining to a bunch of underlings how I happened to be chauffeuring for Mrs. Moyse, so I detoured around the cluster, made it inside the entrance, and headed for the stairs to the clubhouse. Hearing heavy footsteps above, starting down, and voices, one of them Hennessy’s, I slipped quietly to the rear and got behind a pillar. Surely Stebbins had informed the uptown contingent of my phone call about the situation at Gale’s Pharmacy, and if so, surely Hennessy would be inquisitive enough to want to take me along wherever he was going. I didn’t risk peeking around the pillar, but, judging from the footsteps, there were four or five of them. As soon as they had faded out I returned to the stairs and mounted. I was not chipper. I did not have Lila. I had been gone more than two hours. Wolfe might have gone home. They might all be gone.

But they weren’t. Wolfe was in the clubroom, still—or possibly again—on the leather couch, and Chisholm was standing there. As I entered, their heads turned to me.

As I crossed to them Wolfe spoke. “The police are looking for you,” he said coldly.

“Uh-huh.” I was indifferent. “I just dodged a squad.”

“What did you go to that drugstore for?”

I raised the brows. “Oh, you’ve heard about it?”

“Yes. Mr. Hennessy did, and he was kind enough to tell me.” He was dripping sarcasm. “It is a novel experience, learning of your movements through the courtesy of a policeman.”

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