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Very well. Then hes in a pickle.

Thats too bad. Someone else is too, apparently. Yesterday when I was invited to the party and given the names of the male guests, I wanted to know who they were and phoned Lon Cohen. One of them, Edwin Laidlaw, is a fairly important citizen for a man his age. He used to be pretty loose around town, but three years ago his father died and he inherited ten million dollars, and recently he bought a controlling interest in the Malvin Press, book publishers, and apparently he intends to settle down and

Is this of interest?

It may be. Hes in the front room. He came to see me, and since my only contact with him was last night it could be of interest. I can talk with him there, but I thought I should tell you because you might possibly want to sit inor stand in. At the hole. In case I need a witness.

Pfui.

Yeah, I know. I dont want to shove, but we havent had a case for two weeks.

He was scowling at me. It wasnt so much that he would have to leave his chair and walk to the hall and on to the alcove, and stand at the holeafter all, that amount of exercise would be good for his appetiteas it was that the very best that could come of it, getting a client, would also be the worst, since he would have to work. He heaved a sigh, not letting it interfere with the scowl, muttered, Confound it, put his palms on the desk rim to push his chair back, and got up and went.

The hole was in the wall, at eye level, eight feet to the right of Wolfes desk. On the office side it was covered by a picture of a pretty waterfall. On the other side, in a wing of the hall across from the kitchen, it was covered by nothing, and you could not only see through but also hear through. I had once stood there for four solid hours, waiting for someone to appear from the front room to snitch something from my desk. I allowed Wolfe a minute to get himself posted and then went and opened the door to the front room and spoke.

In here, Laidlaw. Its more comfortable. I moved one of the yellow chairs around to face my desk.

Chapter 5

Laidlaw sat and looked at me. Three seconds. Six seconds. Evidently he needed priming, so I obliged.

I thought it was a nice party up to a point, didnt you? Even with the protocol.

I cant remember that far back. He leaned forward. His hair was still perfectly uncombed. Look, Goodwin. I want to ask you a straight question, and I hope youll answer it. I dont see why you shouldnt.

I may not either. What?

About what you said last night, that you thought that girl was murdered. You said it not only to us, but to the police and the District Attorney. I can tell you confidentially that I have a friend, it doesnt matter who or where, who has given me a little information. I understand that they would be about ready to call it suicide and close the investigation if it werent for you, so your reason for thinking it was murder must be a pretty good one. Thats my question. What is it?

Your friend didnt tell you that?

No. Either he wouldnt, or he couldnt because he doesnt know. He says he doesnt know.

I crossed my legs. Well, I cant very well say that. So Ill say that I have told only the police and the D.A.s office and Mr Wolfe, and for the present thats enough.

You wont tell me?

At the moment, no. Rules of etiquette.

Dont you think the people who are involved just because they were theredont you think they have a right to know?

Yes, I do. I think they have a right to demand that the police tell them exactly why they are going ahead with a homicide investigation when everything seems to point to suicide. But they have no right to demand that I tell them.

I see. He considered that. But the police refuse to tell us.

Yeah, I know. Ive had experiences with them. Ive just had one with Inspector Cramer.

He regarded me. Four seconds. Youre in the detective business, Goodwin. People hire you to get information for them, and they pay for it. Thats all I want, information, an answer to my question. Ill give you five thousand dollars for it. I have it in my pocket in cash. Of course, I would expect a definitive answer.

You would deserve one, for five grand, I was finding that meeting his eyes halfway, not letting them come on through me, took a little effort. Five grand in cash would suit me fine, since the salary Mr Wolfe pays me is far from extravagant. But Ill have to say no even if you double it. This is how it is. When the police make up their minds about it one way or the other, that Im right or Im wrong, no matter which, Ill feel free to tell you or anybody else. But if I go spreading it around before then they will say I am interfering with an official investigation, and they will interfere with me. If I lost my licence as a private detective your five grand wouldnt last long.

Ten would last longer.

Not much.

I own a publishing business. Id give you a job.

Youd soon fire me. Im not a very good speller.

His eyes were certainly straight and steady. Will you tell me this? How good is your reason for thinking it was murder? Is it good enough to keep them on it the whole way, in spite of the influence of a woman in Mrs Robilottis position?

I nodded. Yes, Ill answer that. It was good enough to bring Inspector Cramer here when he hadnt had much sleep. In my opinion it is good enough to keep them from crossing it off as suicide until they have dug as deep as they can go.

I see. He rubbed his palms together. Then he rubbed them on the chair arms. He had transferred his gaze to a spot on the rug, which was a relief. It was a full minute before he came back to me. You say you have told only the police, the District Attorney, and Nero Wolfe. I want to have a talk with Wolfe,

I raised my brows. I dont know.

You dont know what?

Whether I let it trail, screwing my lips. He doesnt like to mix in when Im involved personally. Also hes pretty busy. But Ill see. I arose. With him you never can tell. I moved.

As I turned left in the hall Wolfe appeared at the corner of the wing. He stood there until I had passed and pushed the swing door, and then followed me into the kitchen. When the door had swung shut I spoke.

I must apologize for that crack about salary. I forgot you were listening.

He grunted. Your memory is excellent and you shouldnt disparage it. What does that man want of me?

I covered a yawn. Search me. If I had had some sleep I might risk a guess, but its all I can do to get enough oxygen for my lungs so my brains doing without. Maybe he wants to publish your autobiography. Or maybe he wants you to make a monkey of me by proving it was suicide.

I wont see him. You have supplied a reason: that you are involved personally.

Yes, sir. I am also involved personally in the income of your detective business. So is Fritz. So is the guy who wrote you that letter from New Guinea , or hed like to be.

He growled, as a lion might growl when it realizes it must leave its cosy lair to scout around for a meal. I admit that for him a better comparison would be an elephant, but elephants dont growl. Fritz, at the table shucking clams, started humming a tune, very low, probably pleased at the prospect of a client. Wolfe glared at him, reached for a clam, popped it into his mouth, and chewed. When I pushed the door open and held it, he waited until the clam was down before passing through.

He doesnt like to shake hands with strangers, and when we entered the office and I pronounced names he merely gave Laidlaw a nod en route to his desk. Before I went to mine I asked Laidlaw to move to the red leather chair so I wouldnt have him in profile as he faced Wolfe. As I sat, Laidlaw was saying that he supposed Goodwin had told Wolfe who he was, and Wolfe was saying yes, he had.