Some half an hour later Fred showed up, and they ?iascended to the studio together and found that Alberto ?;lra8 there all right, but no longer upright or intact. That picture left room for a whole night of quess, but Wolfe concentrated on what he regarded as |3ttie essentials. Even so, we went into the third hour the third notebook. He completely ignored some ots that I thought needed filling in; for instance, had I^Jberto had a habit of stepping over the line with lather men's daughters and/or wives, and if so, names Spplease. From things they said I gathered that Alberto |%ad been broad-minded about other men's women, but ^apparently Wolfe wasn't interested. Along toward the tSend he was back on the gun again, and when they had
14 Sex Stoat
,
nothing new to offer he scowled and got caustic. When they stayed glued he finally snapped at them, "Which one of you is lying?."
They looked hurt. "That won't get you anywhere," Fred Weppler said bitterly, "or us either."
"It would be silly," Peggy Mion protested, "to come here and give you that check and then lie to you. Wouldn't it?"
"Then you're silly," Wolfe said coldly. He pointed a finger at her. "Look here. All of this might be worked out, none of it is preposterous, except one thing. Who put the gun on the floor beside the body? When you two entered the studio it wasn't there; you both swear to that, and I accept it. You left and started downstairs; you fell, and he carried you to your room. You weren't unconscious. Were you?"
"No." Peggy was meeting his gaze. "I could have walked, but he--he wanted to carry me."
"No doubt. He did so. You stayed in your room. He went to the ground floor to compile a list of those who had made themselves available as murder suspects-- showing admirable foresight, by the way--came back up and phoned the police and then the doctor, who arrived without delay since he lived in the building. Not more than fifteen minutes intervened between the moment you and Mr. Weppler left the studio and the moment he and the doctor entered. The door from the studio to the public hall on the thirteenth floor has a lock that is automatic with the closing of the door, and the door was closed and locked. No one could possibly have entered during the fifteen minutes. You say that you had left your bed and gone to the living room, and that no one could have used that route without being seen by you. The maid and cook were in the
Curtains for Three 15
itchen, unaware of what was going on. So no one en|tered the studio and placed the gun on the floor." "Someone did," Fred said doggedly. Peggy insisted, "We don't know who had a key." "You said that before." Wolfe was at them now. f^Even if everyone had keys, I don't believe it and nei er would anyone else." His eyes came to me. "Ar |ehie. Would you?"
"I'd have to see a movie of it," I admitted. "You see?" he demanded of them. "Mr. Goodwin fIsn't prejudiced against you--on the contrary. He's llready to fight fire for you; see how he gets behind on i notes for the pleasure of watching you look at each father. But he agrees with me that you're lying. Since i one else could have put the gun on the floor, one of y'o.n did. I have to know about it. The circumstances ay have made it imperative for you, or you thought gheydid."
He looked at Fred. "Suppose you opened a drawer Ijaf Mrs. Mion's dresser to get smelling salts, ~and the fjjpm was there, with an odor showing it had been re fseently fired--put there, you would instantly conjec l�ure, by someone to direct suspicion at her. What fpprould you naturally do? Exactly what you did do: take |it upstairs and put it beside the body, without letting know about it. Or--" "Rot," Fred said harshly. "Absolute rot." Wolfe looked at Peggy. "Or suppose it was you who pound it there in your bedroom, after he had gone |tiownstairs. Naturally you would have--"
"This is absurd," Peggy said with spirit. "How fcould it have been in my bedroom unless I put it there? My husband was alive at five-thirty, and I got home efore that, and was right there, in the living room and
16 Rex Stout
my room, until Fred came at seven o'clock. So unless you assume--"
"Very well," Wolfe conceded. "Not the bedroom. But somewhere. I can't proceed until I get this from one of you. Confound it, the gun didn't fly. I expect plenty of lies from the others, at least one of them, but I want the truth from you."
"You've got it," Fred declared.
"No. I haven't."
"Then it's a stalemate." Fred stood up. "Well, Peggy?"
They looked at each other, and their eyes went through the performance again. When they got to the place in the script where it said, "It must be wonderful always," Fred sat down.
But Wolfe, having no part in the script, horned in. "A stalemate," he said dryly, "ends the game, I believe."
Plainly it was up to me. If Wolfe openly committed himself to no dice nothing would budge him. I arose, got the pretty pink check from his desk, put it on mine, placed a paperweight on it, sat down, and grinned at him.
"Granted that you're dead right," I observed, "which is not what you call apodictical, someday we ought to make up a list of the clients that have sat here and lied to us. There was Mike Walsh, and Calida Frost, and that cafeteria guy, Pratt--oh, dozens. But their money was good, and I didn't get so far behind with my notes that I couldn't catch up. All that for nothing?"
"About those notes," Fred Weppler said firmly. "I want to make something clear."
Wolfe looked at him.
He looked back. "We came here," he said, "to tell
Curtains for Three 17
in confidence about a problem and get you to in jpestigate. Your accusing us of lying makes me wonder ' we ought to go on, but if Mrs. Mion wants to I'm ng. But I want to make it plain that if you divulge at we've told you, if you tell the police or anyone that we said there was no gun there when we ent in, we'll deny it in spite of your damn notes. We'll eny it and stick to it!" He looked at his girl. "We've of to, Peggy! All right?"
"He wouldn't tell the police," Peggy declared, with conviction.
"Maybe not. But if he does, you'll stick with me on >ie denial. Won't you?" f& -"Certainly I will," she promised, as if he had asked er to help kill a rattlesnake.
Wolfe was taking them in, with his lips tightened. t>viously, with the check on my desk on its way to the he had decided to add them to the list of clients irho told lies and go on from there. He forced his eyes ride open to rest them, let them half close again, and oke.
"We'll settle that along with other things before jfve're through," he asserted. "You realize, of course, at I'm assuming your innocence, but I've made a Dusand wrong assumptions before now so they're not orth much. Has either of you a notion of who killed Mion?"
They both said no. He grunted. "I have." They opened their eyes at him. He nodded. "It's only another assumption, but I Ie it. It will take work to validate it. To begin with, I oust see the people you have mentioned--all six of |them--and I would prefer not to string it out. Since jyou don't want them told that I'm investigating a mur
18 Rex Stout
der, we must devise a stratagem. Did your husband leave a will, Mrs. Mion?"
She nodded and said yes.
"Are you the heir?"
"Yes, I--" She gestured. "I don't need it and don't want it."
"But it's yours. That will do nicely. An asset of the estate is the expectation of damages to be paid by Mr. James for his assault on Mr. Mion. You may properly claim that asset. The six people I want to see were all concerned in that affair, one way or another. I'll write them immediately, mailing the letter tonight special delivery, telling them that I represent you in the matter and would like them to call at my office tomorrow evening."