He did not dismount. There is no easier way in the world to feel superior to a man than to talk to him from on top of a horse.
Speaking, I handled things so as not to seem out of breath. “You were here?”
“Right here.”
“And he was going north.”
“Yep.” He gestured. “That direction.”
“You saw him. Did he see you?”
“Yes. He lifted his crop to me and I waved back. We often did that.”
“But he didn’t stop or gaze straight at you.”
“He didn’t gaze straight or crooked. He was out for a ride. Listen, brother.” The mounted man’s tone indicated that he had decided to humor me and get it over. “I’ve been through all this with the Homicide boys. If you’re asking was it Keyes, it was. It was his horse. It was his bright yellow breeches, the only ones that color around, and his blue jacket and his black derby. It was the way he sat, with his shoulders hunched and his stirrups too long. It was Keyes.”
“Good. May I pat your horse?”
“No.”
“Then I won’t. It would suit me fine if the occasion arose someday for me to pat you. When I’m dining with the inspector this evening I’ll put in a word for you, not saying what kind.”
I hoofed it out of the park and along Sixty-sixth Street to Broadway, found a drugstore and a phone booth, wriggled onto the stool, and dialed my favorite number. It was Orrie Cather’s voice that answered. So, I remarked to myself, he’s still there, probably sitting at my desk; Wolfe’s instructions for him must be awful complicated. I asked for Wolfe and got him.
“Yes, Archie?”
“I am phoning as instructed. Officer Hefferan is a Goodwin-hater, but I swallowed my pride. On the stand he would swear up and down that he saw Keyes at the place and time as given, and I guess he did, but a good lawyer could shoot it full of ifs and buts.”
“Why? Is Mr. Hefferan a shuttlecock?”
“By no means. He knows it all. But it wasn’t a closeup.”
“You’d better let me have it verbatim.”
I did so. By years of practice I had reached the point where I could relay a two-hour conversation, without any notes but practically word for word, and the brief session I had just come from gave me no trouble at all. When I had finished Wolfe said, “Indeed.”
Silence.
I waited a full two minutes and then said politely, “Please tell Orrie not to put his feet on my desk.”
In another minute Wolfe’s voice came. “Mr. Pohl has telephoned again, twice, from the Keyes office. He’s a jackass. Go there and see him. The address—”
“I know the address. What part of him do I look at?”
“Tell him to stop telephoning me. I want it stopped.”
“Right. I’ll cut the wires. Then what do I do?”
“Phone in again and we’ll see.”
It clicked off. I wriggled off the stool and out of the booth and stood muttering to myself until I noticed that the line of girls on stools at the soda fountain, especially one of them with blue eyes and dimples, was rudely staring at me. I told her distinctly, “Meet me at Tiffany’s ring counter at two o’clock,” and strode out. Since I wouldn’t be able to park within a mile of Forty-seventh and Madison, I decided to leave my car where it was and snare a taxi.
IX
One quick look around the Keyes establishment on the twelfth floor was enough to show where a good slice of the profits had gone, unless that was what Pohl’s hundred grand had been used for. Panels of four kinds of blond wood made up both the walls and ceiling, and the furniture matched. The seats of the chairs for waiting callers were upholstered in blue and black super-burlap, and you had to watch yourself on the rugs not to twist an ankle. Everywhere, in glass cases against the walls, on pedestals scattered around, and on platforms and tables, were models of almost anything you could think of, from fountain pens to airplanes.
When a woman with pink earrings learned that I sought Mr. Pohl she gave me a wary and reproachful look, but she functioned. After a little delay I was waved through a door and found myself at the end of a long wide corridor. There was no one in sight and I had been given no directions, so it was a case of hide and seek. The best opening move seemed to be to walk down the corridor, so I started, glancing into open doors on either side as I passed. The same scale of interior architecture seemed to prevail throughout, with wide variations in style and color. At the fourth door on the right I saw him, and he called to me, simultaneously.
“Come in, Goodwin!”
I entered. It was a big room with three wide windows, and at a quick glance appeared to be the spot where they had really decided to spread themselves. The rugs were white and the walls were black, and the enormous desk that took all of one end was either ebony or call in an expert. The chair behind the desk, in which Pohl was seated, was likewise.
“Where’s Wolfe?” Pohl demanded.
“Where he always is,” I replied, negotiating rugs. “At home, sitting down.”
He was scowling at me. “I thought he was with you. When I phoned him a few minutes ago he intimated that he might be. He’s not coming?”
“No. Never. I’m glad you phoned him again because, as he told you this morning in my hearing, he’ll need the cooperation of all of you.”
“He’ll get mine,” Pohl stated grimly. “Since he’s not coming for it himself, I suppose I ought to give this to you.” He took papers from his breast pocket, looked through them, selected one and held it out. I stepped to the desk to take it.
It was a single sheet, with “Memo from Sigmund Keyes” on it, printed fancy, and scrawled in ink was a list of towns:
Dayton, Ohio Aug. 11 & 12
Boston Aug. 21
Los Angeles Aug. 27 to Sept. 5
Meadville, Pa. Sept. 15
Pittsburgh Sept. 16 & 17
Chicago Sept. 24–26
Philadelphia Oct. 1
“Much obliged,” I thanked him, and stuck it in my pocket. “Covers a lot of country.”
Pohl nodded. “Talbott gets around, and he’s a good salesman, I admit that. Tell Wolfe I did just as he said, and I got it out of a record right here in Keyes’ desk, so no one knows anything about it. Those are all the out-of-town trips Talbott has made since August first. I have no idea what Wolfe wants it for, but by God it shows he’s on the job, and whoever does know what a detective is after? I don’t give a damn how mysterious it is as long as I can help him get Talbott.”
I had an eye cocked at him, trying to decide whether he was really as naïve as he sounded. It gave me one on Wolfe, knowing that he had tried to keep Pohl away from a phone by giving him work to do, and here Pohl had cleaned it up in no time at all and was ready to ask for more. But instead of asking Wolfe for more, he asked me. He shot it at me.
“Go out and get me some sandwiches and coffee. There’s a place on Forty-sixth Street, Perrine’s.”
I sat down. “That’s funny, I was about to ask you to get me some. I’m tired and hungry. Let’s go together.”
“How the hell can I?” he demanded.
“Why not?”
“Because I might not be able to get in again. This is Keyes’ room, but Keyes is dead, and I own part of this business and I’ve got a right here! Dorothy has tried to chase me out — damn her, she used to sit on my lap! I want certain information, and she has ordered the staff not to give me any. She threatened to get the police to put me out, but she won’t do that. She’s had enough of the police this last week.” Pohl was scowling at me. “I prefer corned beef, and the coffee black, no sugar.”