Ballou reached a hand to tap the package. “And there’s this.”
“Yours. I haven’t accepted it. Nor shall I, until I have concluded with finality that you did not kill that woman. A blackmailer is not ipso facto a murderer. I’m obliged to you because we have spent four futile days trying to find someone with a likely motive and have failed. The motive you suggested for Mr. Cather fits Mr. Fleming admirably. A question. How soon after the first phone call from the blackmailer did you tell Miss Kerr about it?”
“Right away. A day or two later.”
“Was it ever mentioned again? By you or her?”
“Yes. She asked two or three times if it was continuing. I told her about the phone call in December. The last time she asked me was in January. Around the middle of January.”
Wolfe nodded. “She knew it must be her brother-in-law, and she told him it must stop, and he—”
“Better than that,” I cut in. “She was going to tell on him. Tell her sister. He might rather have called it off than kill her, but he would rather kill her than have his wife know. He may not be ipso facto a murderer, but ipso Archie Goodwin he is.”
“Mr. Goodwin is sometimes a little precipitate,” Wolfe told Ballou. “He has seen and spoken with them — Mr. and Mrs. Fleming. At length.” He pointed to the package. “That money. If I earn it I want it, but you can’t engage me now. My purpose is to clear Mr. Cather; yours is to prevent disclosure of your name. If I can serve your purpose without damage to mine, I shall. When you go, take the package; here in my safe it might affect my mental processes. There is—”
“What are you going to do?” Ballou demanded. Demanding again.
“I don’t know. Mr. Goodwin, Mr. Panzer, Mr. Durkin, and I are now going to confer.” He looked at the clock. “It’s nearly midnight. If you don’t want two more men in on your secret, go.”
Chapter 11
At one o’clock Friday afternoon I was on a chair in a hotel bedroom, at arm’s length from an attractive young woman in the bed.
Various possible approaches had been discussed in the Thursday night conference that went on for more than two hours. Two of them — get a picture of him and show it to the General Delivery clerks at the Grand Central Station post office, and find out if he had been spending more money than he should have had — were discarded offhand because they could only confirm the blackmailing, and that was regarded as settled.
An obvious one was where had he been Saturday morning, but we weren’t ready for that. If he was open, he was open. If he had an alibi, cracking it could and should wait until we had some kind of leverage on him.
Get three pictures of him, somehow — one for Saul, one for Fred, and one for me — and do the neighborhood again, to dig up someone who had seen him Saturday morning. The cops had of course been at that for four days, with pictures of Orrie. Fred was for it, and Saul was willing to try, but Wolfe vetoed it. He said we had tolerated banality long enough.
Give it to Cramer. Saul suggested it, and he had a case. We could give him the crop, all except Ballou’s name. It wouldn’t hurt us any, certainly it wouldn’t stop us, and it would give Cramer something to think about, and even work on, besides Orrie Cather. If they had a few of Fleming’s fingerprints in their collection from the apartment, or even one, it would open it up good. Wolfe wouldn’t buy it. He said it would be inept to have the police move in on Fleming before we did; for one thing, they would probably pry X’s name out of either Fleming or his wife, and we weren’t giving it even to Saul and Fred. The fifty grand wasn’t there in the safe to affect his mental processes, but he knew where it was.
I made the suggestion that gave him a bright idea. There was nothing bright about the suggestion; it was simply that I would bring the Flemings to the office for some conversation with Wolfe. As we all knew, many people had said more to Wolfe than they had realized they were saying, and why not give them a chance? Saul and Fred could be at the peephole in the alcove, and then we would have another conference. I was the only one who had ever seen them. Saul and Fred were all for it, but Wolfe sat and scowled at me, which was natural, since it would mean another session with a woman. He sat and scowled, and we sat and looked at him. After half a minute of that he spoke to me. “Your notebook.”
I swiveled and got it, and a pen.
“A letter. The regular letterhead. To Mr. Milton Thales, care of Mr. Barry Fleming, and the address. Dear Mr. Thales. It is a truism that people who have a sudden substantial increase in income often spend it, comma, or part of it, comma, on luxuries which they have previously been unable to afford. Period. It is possible that you are an admirer of orchids, comma, and that you would like to buy a few orchid plants with part of the five thousand dollars of extra income you have received during the past four months. Period. If so, comma, I shall be glad to show you my collection if you will telephone for an appointment. Sincerely yours.”
I tossed the notebook on the desk. “Wonderful,” I said. “It will bring him but not her. Maybe. If it goes to his home address and she’s there when it’s delivered but he isn’t, it may bring her but not him. Statistics show that seventy-four per cent of wives open letters, with or without a teakettle. Why not send it to the school?”
“It’s two o’clock Friday morning,” Saul said. “He wouldn’t get it until Monday.”
Wolfe growled. I said, “Damn it.”
“It’s a beautiful idea,” Saul said. “It will get him sweating before he comes, and that will help, and he’ll have to come. Even if he didn’t kill her, he’d have to come. But may I offer an amendment?”
“Yes.”
“The letter might read something like this — your notebook, Archie? Dear Mr. Thales. As you know, comma, I was Isabel’s closest friend, comma, and we told each other many things. One thing she told me was how you got that five thousand dollars and how she felt about it. I haven’t told anyone else because she told me in confidence — no, change that. Change ‘because she told me in confidence’ to ‘because I promised her I wouldn’t.’ Then: You may want to show your appreciation by giving me part of the five thousand, comma, at least half of it. I will expect you to bring it not later than Sunday afternoon. I work evenings. My address is above, and my phone number is so-and-so. It will be signed by Julie Jaquette. I suppose she should write it; I doubt if she uses a typewriter.”
Fred said, “And he croaks her and then we’ve got him.”
Saul nodded. “He would if we let him, and if he killed Isabel Kerr. If he’s had practice.” To Wolfe: “I just think that might be quicker than coming from you. I couldn’t get her to do it, I’m a rat, but Archie could.”
“Sure,” I said. “I’ll tell her I’ll send orchids to her funeral.” I looked at Wolfe. “You wished her well.”
“So you demur,” he said.
“No, sir. I like it. I merely remark that selling her won’t be easy, and if she buys it we can’t let her out of our sight for one second, and what if she won’t cooperate on that? Nobody suggests anything to her. She said so.”