“Did he say why he wanted to make that arrangement?”
“No. He didn’t get that far.”
Donovan was up. “Objection, Your Honor. Conclusion of the witness as to the intention of the defendant.”
“Strike it,” Mandelbaum said amiably. “Strike all of his answer except the word ‘No.’ Your answer is ‘No,’ Mr. Wolfe?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did the defendant suggest any inducement to be offered to the employee to get her to do the eavesdropping?”
“He didn’t name a sum, but he indicated that—”
“Not what he indicated. What he said.”
I allowed myself a grin. Wolfe, who always insisted on precision, who loved to ride others, especially me, for loose talk, and who certainly knew the rules of evidence, had been caught twice. I promised myself to find occasion later to comment on it.
He was unruffled. “He said that he would make it worth her while, meaning the employee, but stated no amount.”
“What else did he say?”
“That was all. The entire conversation was only a few minutes. As soon as I understood clearly what he wanted to hire me to do, I refused to do it.”
“Did you tell him why you refused?”
“Yes, sir.”
“What did you say?”
“I said that while it is the function of a detective to pry into people’s affairs, I excluded from my field anything connected with marital difficulties and therefore declined his job.”
“Had he told you that what he wanted was to spy on his wife?”
“No, sir.”
“Then why did you mention marital difficulties to him?”
“Because I had concluded that that was the nature of his concern.”
“What else did you say to him?”
Wolfe shifted in the chair. “I would like to be sure I understand the question. Do you mean that day, or on a later occasion?”
“I mean that day. There was no later occasion, was there?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Are you saying that you had another meeting with the defendant, on another day?”
“Yes, sir.”
Mandelbaum held a pose. Since his back was to me I couldn’t see his look of surprise, but I didn’t have to. In his file was Wolfe’s signed statement saying among other things that he had not seen Leonard Ashe before or since July 13. His voice went up a notch. “When and where did this meeting take place?”
“Shortly after nine o’clock this morning, in this building.”
“You met and spoke with the defendant in this building today?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Under what circumstances?”
“His wife had arranged to see and speak with him, and she allowed me to accompany her.”
“How did she arrange it? With whom?”
“I don’t know.”
“Was Mr. Donovan, the defense counsel, present?”
“No, sir.”
“Who was?”
“Mrs. Ashe, Mr. Ashe, myself, and two armed guards, one at the door and one at the end of the room.”
“What room was it?”
“I don’t know. There was no number on the door. I think I could lead you to it.”
Mandelbaum whirled around and looked at Robina Keane, seated on the front bench. Not being a lawyer, I didn’t know whether he could get her to the stand or not. Of course a wife couldn’t be summoned to testify against her husband, but I didn’t know if this would have come under that ban. Anyway, he either skipped it or postponed it. He asked the judge to allow him a moment and went to the table to speak in an undertone to a colleague.
I looked around. I had already spotted Guy Unger, in the middle of the audience on the left. Bella Velardi and Alice Hart were on the other side, next to the aisle. Apparently the Sixty-ninth Street office of Bagby Answers, Inc., was being womaned for the day from other offices. Clyde Bagby, the boss, was a couple of rows in front of Unger. Helen Weltz, the Queen of Hearts, whom I had driven from Saul’s address to a hotel seven hours ago, was in the back, not far from me.
The colleague got up and left, in a hurry, and Mandelbaum went back to Wolfe.
“Don’t you know,” he demanded, “that it is a misdemeanor for a witness for the State to talk with the defendant charged with a felony?”
“No, sir, I don’t. I understand it would depend on what was said. I didn’t discuss my testimony with Mr. Ashe.”
“What did you discuss?”
“Certain matters which I thought would be of interest to him.”
“What matters? Exactly what did you say?”
I took a deep breath, spread and stretched my fingers, and relaxed. The fat son-of-a-gun had put it over. Having asked that question, Mandelbaum couldn’t possibly keep it from the jury unless Jimmy Donovan was a sap, and he wasn’t.
Wolfe testified: “I said that yesterday, seated in this room awaiting your convenience, I had formed a surmise that certain questions raised by the murder of Marie Willis had not been sufficiently considered and investigated, and that therefore my role as a witness for the prosecution was an uncomfortable one. I said that I had determined to satisfy myself on certain points; that I knew that in leaving the courtroom I would become liable to a penalty for contempt of court, but that the integrity of justice was more important than my personal ease; that I had been confident that Judge Corbett would—”
“If you please, Mr. Wolfe. You are not now pleading to a charge of contempt.”
“No, sir. You asked what I said to Mr. Ashe. He asked what surmise I had formed, and I told him — that it was a double surmise. First, that as one with long experience in the investigation of crime and culprits, I had an appreciable doubt of his guilt. Second, that the police had been so taken by the circumstances pointing to Mr. Ashe — his obvious motive and his discovery of the body — that their attention in other directions had possibly been somewhat dulled. For example, an experienced investigator always has a special eye and ear for any person occupying a privileged position. Such persons are doctors, lawyers, trusted servants, intimate friends, and, of course, close relatives. If one in those categories is a rogue he has peculiar opportunities for his scoundrelism. It occurred to me that—”
“You said all this to Mr. Ashe?”
“Yes, sir. It occurred to me that a telephone-answering service was in the same kind of category as those I have mentioned, as I sat in this room yesterday and heard Mr. Bagby describe the operation of the switchboards. An unscrupulous operator might, by listening in on conversations, obtain various kinds of information that could be turned to account — for instance, about the stock market, about business or professional plans, about a multitude of things. The possibilities would be limitless. Certainly one, and perhaps the most promising, would be the discovery of personal secrets. Most people are wary about discussing or disclosing vital secrets on the telephone, but many are not, and in emergencies caution is often forgotten. It struck me that for getting the kind of information, or at least hints of it, that is most useful and profitable for a blackmailer, a telephone-answering service has potentialities equal to those of a doctor or lawyer or trusted servant. Any operator at the switchboard could simply—”
“This is mere idle speculation, Mr. Wolfe. Did you say all that to the defendant?”
“Yes, sir.”
“How long were you with him?”
“Nearly half an hour. I can say a great deal in half an hour.”
“No doubt. But the time of the court and jury should not be spent on irrelevancies.” Mandelbaum treated the jury to one of his understanding glances, and went back to Wolfe. “You didn’t discuss your testimony with the defendant?”
“No, sir.”
“Did you make any suggestions to him regarding the conduct of his defense?”
“No, sir. I made no suggestions to him of any kind.”