Relieved that Wolfe was there and my errand was done, I sat down and got my notebook and pen. Let him do the reacting.
He didn’t crane to look up at Oster but focused on Henchy, who was in one of the yellow chairs Saul had moved up. “This is going to be unpleasant for all of us,” he said. “Has Mr. Goodwin made the situation clear?”
Henchy nodded. “Clear enough so we’re here. We came.”
“You’ll listen to me,” Oster said, in charge. “We want to know what Vaughn said to Goodwin on the phone yesterday. What you say he said.”
Wolfe slanted his head back. “Mr. Oster. I don’t ask you to sit because I don’t want you to. You will join the others in the front room. I am no longer acting in cooperation with you; henceforth my only commitment is to Mr. Paul Whipple. With me your status is now, to use a cant term, that of a murder suspect.” He pointed. “That door.”
Oster made a noise, part snort and part snarl. He sat. “That crap,” he said. “The Great White Whosis. I’m a member of the bar, and what are you?”
Wolfe regarded him. “I really can’t blame you. If I were a Negro I would have been locked up long ago — or I would be dead. You actually believe that your skin color and mine are factors in my treatment of you. Pfui. I’m not a troglodyte. Archie, the relevant portion of your telephone conversation with Mr. Vaughn yesterday afternoon.”
I recited it for them as I had for Cramer, but slower and emphasizing “important,” and adding at the end that he hadn’t rung again. Henchy was frowning at me, concentrating. Oster was looking skeptical, but he was getting it. Wolfe spoke.
“Those were the last words, for us, from Mr. Vaughn. ‘It’s probably nothing.’ But unfortunately for him it wasn’t. It’s a conclusion, more than an assumption, that he was going to see again someone he had seen earlier, or at least explore some suspicion resulting from an earlier contact. It’s possible that that contact had not been at your office, but I know of none other he might have made relevant to the fate of Susan Brooke, and I doubt if the police do. It’s also a conclusion, not lightly to be abandoned, that he was killed by the person who killed Miss Brooke. Do you reject that, Mr. Oster?”
“Reject it, no. If he said what Goodwin says he did.”
“For me that is not moot. If it is for you, it will be a soliloquy. Are you willing to tell me what Mr. Vaughn said to you yesterday, and what you said to him?”
“He said nothing, and neither did I.”
“He didn’t see you?”
“He saw me, yes, but I exchanged no words with him. I was with Mr. Henchy in his room when Vaughn came, and I stayed and heard what they said, but I said nothing to Vaughn and he said nothing to me.”
“Had you ever seen him before?”
“No.”
“Had he ever seen you?”
“Not to my knowledge. I have been on television a few times.”
“Did you see him again yesterday? After five o’clock?”
“No. Next question, where was I last evening? If you have a right to ask any questions at all, which I don’t concede, you have a right to ask that. I’ll answer it by saying that I can’t produce witnesses for the entire evening and night. I wouldn’t, for you, but anyway I couldn’t.”
“Few people could. Now, sir, I’m sure you would like this to be as brief as possible, and you can help. While I talk with Mr. Henchy you can explain to the others—”
“I’m staying right here.”
“No. You’re leaving, if not the house, the room. You—”
“I’m staying in this chair.”
Wolfe’s head turned. “Archie, you’ll need Saul to help remove him; he’s of a size. Since it must be done by force, put him out of the house.”
“You wouldn’t,” Oster said.
I was up. “I have the build for it,” I said, “but you’ll be surprised to feel Saul Panzer in action. He’s the Little White Whosis.” I moved.
“Now wait a minute,” Henchy said. “Harold, I don’t like this. I don’t think it’s necessary.” To Wolfe: “What were you going to say?”
“That Mr. Oster can describe the situation to the others, including what Mr. Vaughn said to Mr. Goodwin on the telephone. He can also learn if any of them have alibis — from eight o’clock last evening to two o’clock this morning — that can be verified.” He turned to Oster. “Not difficult for a member of the bar.”
I thought, He meant it, that their skin colors weren’t factors. He was being as crusty with him as he would have been with a paleface. Oster thought he had something to say, first to Wolfe and then to Henchy, but apparently decided it would be more dignified to go without an exit line. A straight course to the connecting door to the front room would have taken him close to where I stood, and he made a point of circling wide. Also more dignified. When he was out and the door shut, I went back to my desk and notebook.
Wolfe said, “I’m obliged to you, Mr. Henchy. I don’t like turmoil in my house.”
The executive director nodded. “I don’t like it anywhere. Many people wouldn’t believe that, a man in my position, but I don’t like it. I like restraint. I like peace, and maybe I’ll get some before I die. I guess you want two things from me: what I said to Mr. Vaughn and where I was last evening.”
“Not necessarily where you were, unless you have an alibi that can be established.”
“I haven’t, not for the whole time from eight o’clock to two. I know a little about alibis; I’ve had experience. As for Mr. Vaughn, I don’t think I had ever seen him before. I see many people. I won’t try to tell you what I said to him yesterday word for word because I’m not good at that. I didn’t say much; it was really just one thing. Not about Susan’s — Miss Brooke’s — who killed her. He only asked about her and Dunbar, whether they were planning to marry. Of course I knew they were, but I didn’t tell him that. I said I knew nothing about it, that I never meddled in the personal affairs of members of the staff. That’s all there was to it.”
“Can’t you give me your exact words?”
He frowned and took five seconds. He shook his head. “I wouldn’t want to try to. But it was just what I said. He wasn’t with me more than four or five minutes. He wanted to see someone else, and I sent him to Mr. Faison.”
“Why Mr. Faison?”
“Well, he insisted on seeing someone, and Susan had worked under him.” Henchy’s head turned for a glance at me and returned to Wolfe. “Tell me something. I know about your reputation. Is it possible that you honestly believe that one of us killed him? And killed Susan Brooke?”
“I think it likely, yes.”
“Well, we didn’t.”
Wolfe nodded. “You would say that, naturally.”
“Not just ‘naturally.’” His hands were cupped over the ends of the chair arms, gripping them. “This is the truth if I ever spoke it, if anyone on our staff is a murderer I want him punished to the full extent. It will make it harder for us, it already has, Dunbar in jail, but if we expect to be treated like good citizens we must be good citizens. But you’re wrong, I’m positive you’re wrong. At noon today Mr. Ewing heard about the murder of Peter Vaughn on the radio and came and told me, and I got them in my room, all of them who spoke with Vaughn yesterday, and I put it to them straight. I told them the police might never learn that Vaughn had been there, but if they did, there was to be no covering up. I told them that if one of them was involved in any way, I wanted to know it then and there. I told them that if any one of them had the slightest suspicion about another one, he was to speak up, then and there.”