Rex Stout - Nero Wolfe (21 page)

“I been hunting my rope. When I drank that one glass I asked Miss Rowan if she minded if I looked and she said no. We had already looked inside and out front. Then when I come in here and found him I sat on that box a while to think it over. I decided the best thing was to get you.”

“Wasn't this door locked?”

“No, sir. It was shut but it wasn't locked.”

That was possible. It was often left unlocked in the daytime. I looked around. The room held all kinds of stuff—stacks of luggage, chairs, card tables, old magazines on shelves—but at the front, where we were, there was a clear space. Everything seemed to be in place; there was no sign that Eisler had put up a fight, and you wouldn't suppose a man would stand with his hands in his pockets while someone got a noose around his neck and pulled it tight. If he had been conked first, what with? I stepped to a rack against the wall on the left and put a hand out, but pulled it back. One of those three-foot stainless-steel rods, for staking plants, would have been just the thing, and the one on top was lying across the others. If I had had gloves and a glass with me, and there had been no rush, and Cal hadn't been there with his eyes boring at me, I would have given it a look.

I opened the door, using my handkerchief for the knob, and stepped out. There were six windows in the rear of the penthouse, but except for the two near the far corner, which belonged to the maid's room and bathroom, their view of the shack and the approach to it was blocked by the evergreens. That had been a
break for the murderer; there had certainly been someone in the kitchen. I went back inside, shut the door, and told Cal, “Here's how it is. I have to get the cops here before anyone leaves if I want to keep my license. I don't owe Wade Eisler anything, but this will be a sweet mess for Miss Rowan and I'm a friend of hers, so I'm curious. When did you first miss the rope?”

He opened his mouth and closed it again. He shook his head. “I guess I made a mistake,” he said. “I should have took that rope off and found it somewhere else.”

“You should like hell. It would have been a cinch for the police lab to prove it had been around his neck. When did you first miss it?”

“But I had told you about last night and how I was worked up and you had promised to keep it in, and I figured I couldn't expect you to be square with me if I wasn't square with you, so I went and got you. Now the way you take it, I don't know.”

“For God's sake.” I wasn't as disgusted as I sounded. “What did you think, I'd bring you a bottle of champagne? Wait till you see how the cops take it. When did you first miss the rope?”

“I don't know just what time. It was a while after you left, maybe twenty minutes. With people coming and putting things in that closet I thought I'd get it and hang on to it.”

“Had you put it in the closet yourself?”

“Yeah. On the shelf with my hat on top. The hat was there but the rope was gone.”

“Did you tell someone right away?”

“I looked all over the closet and then I told Laura and she told Miss Rowan. Miss Rowan asked everybody and she helped Laura and me look some, but people started coming.”

“At the time you missed the rope had anybody already
come? Was anyone here besides those who ate lunch with us?”

“No, sir.”

“You're sure?”

“I'm sure enough to put a no on it. They ain't much a man can be dead sure of. It might be someone came I didn't see, but I was right there and I'd have to—”

“Save it.” I glanced at my watch: five minutes to six. “At the time you missed the rope where was Wade Eisler?”

“I don't know.”

“When did you see him last?”

“I can't say exactly. I wasn't riding herd on him.”

“Did you see him after you missed the rope? Take a second. This is important. Take ten.”

He screwed up his lips and shut his eyes. He took the full ten seconds. His eyes opened. “No, sir, I didn't.”

“Sure enough to put a no on it?”

“I already did.”

“Okay. Do you know if anyone else was worked up about Wade Eisler?”

“I wouldn't say worked up. I guess nobody wanted him for a pet.”

“As it looks now, someone who ate lunch with us killed him. Have you any idea who?”

“No, sir. I don't expect to have none.”

“That's noble. Don't be
too
noble. There's plenty more, but it will have to wait. If I leave you here while I go in and tell Miss Rowan and call the cops will you stay put and keep your hands off of that rope?”

“No, sir. I'm going to see Laura. I'm going to tell her if they ask her anything she better leave it out about last night.”

“You are not.” I was emphatic. “You've got no brand
on her, you said so. You may think you know how she'll take a going-over by experts, but you don't. Every move anybody makes from now on will get on the record, and if you go and call her away from that baboon she's sitting with, what does she say and what do you say when they ask you why? She'll either leave it out or she won't, and you'll only make it worse if you tell her to. If you won't promise you'll stick here I'll just open the door and yell for Miss Rowan, and she can call the cops.”

His jaw was working. “You said you believed me.”

“I do. If I change my mind I'll let you know first. What you told me and what you asked me to do, I said I'd keep it in and I will, provided you do too. We were discussing the saddle. Well?”

“I figure to keep everything in. But if I could just tell her—”

“No. She probably won't spill it, but if she does and says she told you about it that won't break any bones. You left it out because you didn't want to cause her trouble. Everybody leaves things out when cops ask questions. Do I yell for Miss Rowan?”

“No. I'll stay hitched.”

“Come outside and stand at the door. You've already touched the knob twice and that's enough. If anyone comes keep them off.” Using my handkerchief again, I opened the door. He stepped out and I pulled the door shut as I crossed the sill. “Be seeing you,” I said, and went.

I entered at the rear and glanced in at the kitchen on the chance that Lily was there. No. Nor the living room. The piano and fiddles were playing “These Fences Don't Belong.” I found her on the terrace, caught her eye and gave her a sign, and she came. I
headed for the dining room, and when she had followed me in I closed the door.

“One question,” I said. “That's all there's time for. When did you last see Wade Eisler?”

She cocked her head and crinkled her eyes, remembering. I have mentioned a part of her that wasn't mine; this was a part of her that was mine. No what or why; I had asked her a question and she was digging up the answer. She took longer than Cal had. “It was soon after you left,” she said. “He put his cup down and I asked him if he wanted more coffee and he said no. Someone did want some and the pot was nearly empty and I went to the kitchen for more. Felix and Robert were arguing about when the champagne should be put on ice, and I sent Freda to the terrace with the coffee and stayed there to calm them down. Who's worrying about Wade Eisler?”

“Nobody. How long did you stay in the kitchen?”

“Oh, ten minutes. Felix can be difficult.”

“Eisler wasn't there when you went back?”

“I didn't notice. They had scattered. Some of them were in the living room. Then Laura Jay told me Cal Barrow's rope was gone and I helped them look, and then people came.”

“When did you notice that Eisler wasn't around?”

“Some time later. Roger Dunning wanted someone to meet him and asked me where he was. I didn't know and didn't care. I supposed he had left without bothering to thank me for the meal. He would.” She tossed her head. “That's four questions. What's the point?”

“Cal Barrow was looking for his rope and found Eisler's body on the floor of the shack with the rope around his neck. He came and got me. He's there guarding the door. Will you phone the police or do you want me to?” I glanced at my wrist: four minutes after
six. “It's already been sixteen minutes since I saw him and that's enough.”

“No,” she said.

“Yes,” I said.

“Wade Eisler hung himself?”

“No. He's not hanging, he's on the floor. Also after the noose was pulled tight the rope was wound around his neck a dozen times. He didn't do that.”

“But how could—who would—
no!
”

“Yes. It would be me to hand you something like this, but at that I'm glad it is. I mean since it happened I'm glad I'm here. Do you want me to phone?”

She swallowed. “No, I will. It's my house.” She touched my sleeve. “I'm
damn
glad you're here.”

“Spring seven, three one hundred. I'll repeat that number: Spring seven—”

“You clown! All right, I needed it, that helped. I'll phone from the bedroom.”

She moved, but I stopped her. “Do you want me to collect the guests and tell them the cops are coming?”

“Oh my God. Here in my house—but of course that's routine. That's etiquette—when you're having a party and someone finds a body you collect the guests and make an announcement and say you hope they'll come again and—”

“You're babbling.”

“So I am.” She went, and I had to step to get to the door ahead of her.

Since a prowl car was certainly in the neighborhood there wasn't much time, and I went to the terrace and sang out, “Everybody inside! Don't walk, run! Inside, everybody!” I entered the living room and mounted a chair. I wanted to see their faces. You seldom get anything helpful from faces, especially when there are more than twenty of them, but you always think you
might. Those already inside approached, and those coming from the terrace joined them. I turned to the musicians and patted the air, and they broke off. Mel Fox said in a champagne-loud voice, “She's gone and got a saddle for me.” Laughter. When you've been drinking champagne for an hour laughing comes easy.

I raised a hand and waggled it. “I've got bad news,” I said. “I'm sorry, but here it is. A dead body has been found on the premises. The body of Wade Eisler. I have seen it. He was murdered. Miss Rowan is notifying the police and they will soon be here. She asked me to tell you. Of course nobody will leave.”

What broke the silence was not a gasp but a giggle, from Nan Karlin. Then Roger Dunning demanded, “Where is he?” and Laura Jay moved, darting to the door to the terrace and on out, and the faces I had wanted to see turned away as Lily appeared through the arch.

She came on. She raised her voice. “All right, I got you here and we're in for it. I don't go much by rules, but now I need one. What does the perfect hostess do when a guest murders another guest? I suppose I ought to apologize, but that doesn't seem …”

I had stepped down from the chair. It wasn't up to me to welcome the cops, it was Lily's house and she was there, and anyway it would only be a pair from a prowl car. The homicide specialists would come later. Circling the crowd, I made for a door at the other side of the room, passed through, and was in what Lily called the kennel because a guest's dog had once misused the rug there. There were book shelves, and a desk and safe and typewriter, and a phone. I went to the phone and dialed a number I could have dialed with my eyes shut. Since Wolfe's afternoon session up in the plant rooms with orchids was from four to six, he would
have gone down to the office and would answer it himself.

He did. “Yes?”

“Me. Calling from the library in Miss Rowan's apartment. Regarding Wade Eisler. The one with a pudgy face and a scratch on his cheek. I gathered from your expression when he called you Nero that you thought him objectionable.”

“I did. I do.”

“So did somebody else. His body has been found in a storage room here on the roof. Strangled with a rope. The police are on the way. I'm calling to say that I have no idea when I'll be home, and I thought you ought to know that you'll probably be hearing from Cramer. A man getting croaked a few hours after he ate lunch with you—try telling Cramer you know nothing about it.”

“I shall. What do you know about it?”

“The same as you. Nothing.”

“It's a confounded nuisance, but it was worth it. The grouse was superb. Give Miss Rowan my respects.”

I said I would.

The kennel had a door to the side hall, and I left that way, went to the side terrace, and headed for the shack. As I expected, Cal was not alone. He stood with his back against the door, his arms folded. Laura Jay was against him, gripping his wrists, her head tilted back, talking fast in a voice so low I caught no words. I called sharply, “Break it up!” She whirled on a heel and a toe, her eyes daring me to come any closer. I went closer. “You damn fool,” I said, reaching her. “Snap out of it. Beat it! Get!”

“She thinks I killed him,” Cal said. “I been trying to tell her, but she won't—”

What stopped him was her hands pressed against
his mouth. He got her wrists and pulled them away. “He knows about it,” he said. “I told him.”

“Cal! You didn't! You mustn't—”

I got her elbow and jerked her around. “If you want to make it good,” I said, “put your arms around his neck and moan. When I poke you in the ribs that'll mean a cop's coming and you'll moan louder and then turn and let out a scream, and when he's close enough, say ten feet, you leap at him and start clawing his face. That'll distract him and Cal can run to the terrace and jump off. Have you got anything at all in your skull besides air? What do you say when they ask you why you dashed out to find Cal when I announced the news? That you wanted to be the first to congratulate him?”

Her teeth were clamped on her lip. She unclamped them. She twisted her neck to look at Cal, twisted back to look at me, and moved. One slow step, and then she was off, and just in time. As she passed the first evergreen the sound came of the back door of the penthouse closing, and heavy feet, and I turned to greet the company. It was a harness bull.