“If you can remember what it was you saw or heard that scared X, and if you tell the reporters before the cops get wise to it, they’ll be your friends for life. Concentrate. Remember everything you saw and heard here today, and everything you did and said, too.”
She was frowning. “I don’t remember anything that would scare anybody.”
“Not right off the bat, who could?” Her hand was right there and I patted it. “I guess we’d better go over it together, right straight through. That’s the way Nero Wolfe would do it. What time did you get to work this morning?”
“When I always do — a quarter to nine. I’m punctual.”
“Were the others already here?”
“Some were and some weren’t.”
“Who was and who wasn’t?”
“My heavens, I don’t know. I didn’t notice.” She was resentful. “When I came to work I was thinking of something else, so how would I notice?”
I had to be patient. “Okay, we’ll start at another point. You remember when Wallen came in and spoke with Fickler, and went to Tina’s booth and talked with her, and when Tina came out Fickler sent Philip in to him. You remember that?”
She nodded. “I guess so.”
“Guesses won’t get us anywhere. Just recall the situation. There’s Philip, coming around the end of the partition after talking with Wallen. Did you hear him say anything? Did you say anything to him?”
“I don’t think Philip was this X,” she declared. “He is married, with children. I think it was Jimmie Kirk. He tried to make passes at me when I first came, and he drinks — you can ask Ed about that — and he thinks he’s superior. A barber being superior!” She looked pleased. “That’s a good idea about Jimmie being X, because I don’t have to say he really tried to kill me. I’ll try to remember something he said. Would it matter exactly when he said it?”
I had had enough, but a man can’t hit a woman when she’s down, so I ended it without violence.
“Not at all,” I told her, “but I’ve got an idea. I’ll go and see if I can get something out of Jimmie. Meanwhile, I’ll send a reporter in to break the ice with you, from the Gazette probably.” I was on my feet. “Just use your common sense and stick to facts. See you later.”
“But Mr. Goodwin! I want—”
I was gone. I strode down the aisle and around the end of the partition. There I halted, and it wasn’t long before I was joined by Cramer and Purley. Their faces were expressive. I didn’t have to ask if they had got it all.
“If you shoot her,” I suggested, “send her brain to Johns Hopkins, if you can find it.”
Cramer grunted. “Did she do it herself?”
“I doubt it. It was a pretty solid blow to raise that lump, and you didn’t find her prints on the bottle. Bothering about prints is beneath her. I had to come up for air, but I left you an in. Better pick a strong character to play the role of reporter from the Gazette.”
“Send for Biatti,” Cramer snapped at Purley.
“Yeah,” I agreed, “he can take it. Now I go home?”
“No. She might insist on seeing her manager again.”
“I wouldn’t pass that around,” I warned them. “How would you like a broadcast of her line on Sergeant Stebbins? I’d like to be home for dinner. We’re having fresh pork tenderloin.”
“We would all like to be home for dinner.” Cramer’s look and tone were both sour. They didn’t change when he shifted to Purley: “Is the Vardas pair still all you want?”
“They’re what I want most,” Purley said doggedly. “In spite of her getting it when they weren’t here, but I guess we’ve got to spread out more. You can finish with them here and go home to dinner, and I suppose we’ve got to take ’em all downtown. I still want to be shown that the Stahl girl couldn’t have used that bottle on herself, and I don’t have to be shown that she could have used the scissors on Wallen if she felt like it. Or if she performed with the bottle to have something to tell reporters about, the Vardases are still what I want most. But I admit the other ‘if’ is the biggest one. If someone here conked her, finding out who and why comes first until we get the Vardases.”
Cramer stayed sour: “You haven’t even started.”
“Maybe that’s a little too strong, Inspector. We were on the Vardases, but we didn’t clear out of here; we kept close. Then, when we found the Stahl girl and brought her to, she shut the valve and had to see Goodwin. Even so, I wouldn’t say we haven’t made a start with the others. Ed Graboff plays the horses and owes a bookie nine hundred dollars, and he had to sell his car. Philip Toracco went off the rails in 1945 and spent a year in a booby hatch. Joel Fickler has been seen in public places with Horny Gallagher, and while that don’t prove—”
Cramer cut in to shoot at me, “Is Fickler a racket boy?”
I shook my head. “Sorry. Blank. I’ve never been anything but a customer.”
“If he is we’ll get it.” Purley was riled and didn’t care who knew it. “Jimmie Kirk apparently only goes back three years, and he has expensive habits for a barber. Tom Yerkes did a turn in 1939 for assault — beat up a guy who took his young daughter for a fast weekend — and he is known for having a quick take-off. So I don’t think you can say we haven’t even started.”
“Are all alibis for last night being checked?” Cramer demanded.
“They have been.”
“Do them over, and good. Get it going. Use as many men as you need. And not only alibis — records, too. I want the Vardas pair as much as you do, but if the Stahl girl didn’t use that bottle on herself, I also want someone else. Get Biatti here. Let him have a try at her before you take her down.”
“Yes, sir.”
Purley moved. He went to the phone at the cashier’s counter. I went to the one in the booth at the end of the clothes rack and dialed the number I knew best. Fritz answered, and I asked him to buzz the extension in the plant-rooms, since it was still a few minutes short of six o’clock.
“Where are you?” Wolfe demanded.
“At the barbershop.” I was none too genial, myself. “Janet was sitting in her booth and got hit on the head with a bottle of oil. They have gone through the routine and are still at the starting line. Her condition is no more critical than it was before she got hit. As I told you, she insisted on seeing me, and I have had a long, intimate talk with her. I can’t say I made no progress, because she asked me to be her manager, and I am not giving you notice, quitting at the end of this week. Aside from that I got nowhere. I advise you to tell Fritz to increase the grocery orders until further notice.”
Silence. Then, “Who is there?”
“Everybody. Cramer, Purley, squad men, the staff. The whole party will be moved downtown in an hour or so.”
“Pfui.” Silence. In a moment: “Stay there.” The connection went.
I left the booth. Neither Purley nor Cramer was in sight. I moseyed toward the rear, with the line of empty barber chairs on my left and the row of waiting chairs against the partition on my right. Fickler was there, and three of the barbers — Ed being the missing one now — with dicks in between.
The chair on the left of the magazine table was empty, and I dropped into it. Apparently, no one had felt like reading today, since the same copy of Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine was still on top. After sitting a few minutes I became aware that I was trying to analyze Janet. There must be some practical method of digging up from her memory the fact or facts that we had to have. Hypnotize her, maybe? That might work. I was considering suggesting it to Cramer when I became aware of movement over at the door and lifted my eyes.