“Then I tell you. She came without appointment. Mr. Goodwin admitted her. She asked to see me on a confidential matter. I was engaged elsewhere, upstairs, and Mr. Goodwin came to tell me she was here. We had a matter under consideration and discussed it at some length, and when we came down her dead body was here.” He pointed at Heydecker’s feet. “There. So she couldn’t tell me what she came for, since I never saw her alive.”
“Then I don’t get it,” Edey declared. The brilliant idea man was using his brain. “If she didn’t tell you, you couldn’t tell the police or the District Attorney. But if they don’t know what she came to see you about, why do they think she was killed by someone in our office? It’s conceivable that they got that information from someone else, but so soon? They started in on me at seven o’clock this morning. And I conclude from their questions that they don’t merely think it, they think they know it.”
“They do, unquestionably,” Heydecker agreed. “Mr. Goodwin. You admitted her. She was alone?” That was the brilliant trial lawyer.
“Yes.” Since we weren’t before the bench I omitted the “sir.”
“You saw no one else around? On the sidewalk?”
“No. Of course it was dark. It was twenty minutes past five. On January fifth the sun set at 4:46.” By gum, he wasn’t going to trap me.
“You conducted her to this room?”
“Yes.”
“Leaving the outer door open perhaps?”
“No.”
“Are you certain of that?”
“Yes. If I have one habit that’s totally automatic, it’s closing that door and making sure it’s locked.”
“Automatic habits are dangerous things, Mr. Goodwin. Sometimes they fail you. When you brought her to this room did you sit?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Where I am now.”
“Where did she sit?”
“About where you are. About three feet closer to me.”
“What did she say?”
“That she wanted to see Nero Wolfe about something urgent. No, she said that at the door. She said her case was private and very confidential.”
“She used the word ‘case’?”
“Yes.”
“What else did she say?”
“That her name was Bertha Aaron and she was the private secretary of Mr. Lamont Otis, senior partner in the law firm of Otis, Edey, Heydecker, and Jett.”
“What else did she say?”
Naturally I had known that the time would come to lie, and decided this was it. “Nothing,” I said.
“Absolutely nothing?”
“Right.”
“You are Nero Wolfe’s confidential assistant. He was engaged elsewhere. Do you expect me to believe that you did not insist on knowing the nature of her case before you went to him?”
The phone rang. “Not if you’d rather not,” I said, and swiveled, lifted the receiver and spoke. “Nero Wolfe’s residence, Archie Goodwin speaking.”
I recognized the voice. “This is Rita Sorell, Mr. Goodwin. I have decided—”
“Hold it please. Just a second.” I pressed a palm over the transmitter and told Wolfe, “That woman you sent a card to. The one who told me I was handsome.” He reached for his receiver and put it to his ear and I returned to mine. “Okay. You have decided?”
“I have decided that it will be best to tell you what you came this morning to find out. I have decided that you were too clever for me, not mentioning at all what you had written on the card, when that was what you came for. Your saying that you made it up, that you tried to write something that would make me curious — you didn’t expect me to believe that. You were too clever for me. So I might as well confess, since you already know it. I did sit with a man in a booth in a lunchroom one evening last week — what evening was it?”
“Monday.”
“That’s right. And you want to know who the man was. Don’t you?”
“It would help.”
“I want to help. You are very handsome. His name is Gregory Jett.”
“Many thanks. If you want to help—”
She had hung up.
Chapter 6
I cradled the receiver and rotated my chair. Wolfe pushed his phone back and said, “She is a confounded nuisance.”
“Yes, sir.”
“I suppose we’ll have to humor her.”
“Yes, sir. Or shoot her.”
“Not a welcome option.” He arose. “Gentlemen, I must ask you to excuse me. Come, Archie.” He headed for the hall and I got up and followed. Turning left, he pushed the door to the kitchen. Fritz was there at the big table, chopping an onion. The door swung shut.
Wolfe turned to face me. “Very well. You know her. You have seen her and talked with her. What about it?”
“I’d have to toss a coin. Several coins. You have seen Jett and talked with him. It could be that she merely wanted to find out if we already knew who it was, and if so she might have named the right one and she might not. Or it might have been a real squeal; she decided that Jett killed Bertha Aaron, and either she loves justice no matter what it costs her, or she was afraid Jett might break and her spot would be too hot for comfort. I prefer the latter. Or it wasn’t Jett, it was Edey or Heydecker, and she is trying to ball it up — and she may be sore at Jett on account of the episode. If it backfires, if we already know it was Edey or Heydecker, what the hell. Telling me on the phone isn’t swearing to it on the stand. She can deny she called me. Or she might—”
“That’s enough for now. Have you a choice?”
“No, sir. I told you she’s a gem.”
He grunted. He reached for a piece of onion, put it in his mouth, and chewed. When it was down he asked Fritz, “Ebenezer?” and Fritz told him no, Elite. He turned to me. “In any case, she has ripped it open. Even if she is merely trying to muddle it we can’t afford to assume that she hasn’t communicated with him — or soon will.”
“She couldn’t unless he phoned her. They’ve been at the DA’s office all morning.”
He nodded. “Then we’ll tell him first. You’ll have to recant.”
“Right. Do we save anything?”
“I think not. The gist first and we’ll see.”
He made for the door. In the hall we heard a voice from the office, Edey’s thin tenor, but it stopped as we appeared. As I passed in front of Heydecker he stuck a foot out, but possibly not to trip me; he may have been merely shifting in his chair.
When Wolfe was settled in his he spoke. “Gentlemen, Mr. Goodwin and I have decided that you deserve candor. That was Mrs. Morton Sorell on the phone. What she said persuaded us—”
“Did you say Sorell?” Heydecker demanded. He was gawking and so was Edey. Evidently Jett never gawked.
“I did. Archie?”
I focused on Heydecker. “If she had called twenty seconds earlier,” I told him, “I wouldn’t have had to waste a lie. I did insist on knowing the nature of Bertha Aaron’s case before I went to Mr. Wolfe, and she told me. She said she had accidentally seen a member of the firm in secret conference with Mrs. Morton Sorell, the firm’s opponent in an important case. She said that after worrying about it for a week she had told him about it that afternoon, yesterday, and asked for an explanation, and he didn’t have one, so he was a traitor. She said she was afraid to tell Mr. Otis because he had a weak heart and it might kill him, and she wouldn’t tell another firm member because he might be a traitor too. So she had come to Nero Wolfe.”
I had been wrong about Jett. Now he was gawking too. He found his tongue first. “This is incredible. I don’t believe it!”
“Nor I,” Heydecker said.
“Nor I,” Edey said, his tenor a squeak.
“Do you expect us to believe,” Heydecker demanded, “that Bertha Aaron would come to an outsider with a story that would gravely damage the firm if it became known?”