Nick. “And the sooner, the better.”
Abrams, again. “Okay.” He addresses one of the men standing and listening to them. “Do it.” He hands him the hair. Then turning back to Nick, he says, “Anything particular on your mind?”
Nick. “Ought to be on yours, with three murders tied together in just about twenty-four hours. Now that we’ve been told he’s her husband and he’s dead, don’t you think we ought to see Polly as soon as possible?”
Abrams says, “There’s something in that” and tells one of his men, “Don’t let these lugs dog it while I’m gone.” He and Nick go downstairs. In the office he uses the telephone. When he’s through, he grumbles, “They haven’t picked her up yet.” He scratches his chin, then says, “I’ve got a man waiting up in her apartment. Want to take a run up there? I told you there’s something funny about the place that I’d like you to see.”
Nick. “All right. Don’t you think now we’ve got something more to talk about to Dancer?”
Abrams says in a hurt tone, “I think of things sometimes. I told them to pick up him and the Chinaman both.”
They go downstairs to the street.
At Aunt Katherine’s, all the Forrests except Selma are assembled. They are very excited and keep moving around so that Asta, who obviously doesn’t like any of them, has a great deal of difficulty keeping out of their way. Nora and Dr. Kammer are also there.
The general is standing, glaring down at Nora, and asking indignantly, “Do you mean to say that this — ah — husband of yours actually advised David to tell the police about Selma and the pistol?”
Nora says defiantly, “Yes.”
The general starts to walk up and down the floor, sending Asta into hiding again, and rumpling his whiskers and growling. “Why, the fellow’s a scoundrel — an out-and-out scoundrel.”
Nora. “Nick’s not — he knows what he’s doing.”
The general snorts and says angrily, “Nonsense — nobody knows what they’re doing. The whole country is full of incompetents and scoundrels nowadays.”
Aunt Hattie nudges Aunt Lucy and asks, “What is Thomas saying now — he mutters so.”
Aunt Lucy, who has been sniffling into her handkerchief, sobs, “Poor Selma. This is a terrible thing to happen to me — only a week after my eighty-third birthday.”
Nora jumps up and says, “Nick’s not incompetent and he’s not a scoundrel. You’re all acting as if you thought Selma really killed Robert.”
Aunt Katherine and Dr. Kammer exchange significant glances. The general clears his throat and says, “It’s not a case of anybody killing anybody — it’s a case of his being so devilish inconsiderate of the family. Has the fellow no feelings?”
William, who is considered not too bright by the family, runs his finger inside his too-tight collar and asks, “Does anyone know if the police have considered the theory that Robert might have committed suicide?”
Aunt Katherine snaps at him, “That will do, William,” while the rest of them glare at him.
Burton, his tic working overtime, asks, “Well, where is this Nicholas? Why isn’t he here to explain himself?”
Nora. “Because he’s out trying to clear Selma while you all sit around here and criticize him.”
The general says, “I’d never have asked him if I’d known what the fellow’d been up to.”
Nora rises with great dignity and calls Asta. She faces the family and says, “I’m sure he doesn’t care what any of you think — he’s not doing it for you — he’s doing it for Selma. Good-bye.”
What would otherwise have been a dignified exit is spoiled by her bumping into the antique butler as she goes through the door. After the butler has gotten his breath, he says, “Mr. Graham on the phone for you, Mrs. Charles.”
She goes to the phone and says, “Hello, David.”
David, at the other end of the wire, asks excitedly, “Where is Nick? I tried your house and the detective bureau but he wasn’t there. Lieutenant Abrams wasn’t in either.”
Nora. “They’re probably out together. Oh, Lieutenant Abrams said something about wanting Nick to go over to that apartment house with him. Maybe they’re there. What is it, David?”
David. “Something’s happened — I’ve got to see Nick. What apartment house?”
Nora. “I’m leaving here now. I’ll meet you and take you there. Where are you?”
David. “I’m in a drugstore at Mason and Bush streets.”
Nora. “Wait for me — I’ll be right over.”
They hang up and she, after making a face at the direction of the room where she left the family, goes out and gets into her car.
Abrams and Nick arrive at the building where Polly has an apartment. It is a large, shabby building, set at the foot of Telegraph Hill. Across the street from it the hill rises steep and unpaved, with winding, wooden steps leading up between scattered small frame houses. The end of the street, even with the house’s left-hand wall, is closed by a high board fence. From the fence, as from the house wall, the ground falls perpendicularly fifty or sixty feet to a rock-strewn vacant lot covering several blocks. In the street and on the hill above, goats are roaming. As they approach the door a goat runs out and dodges past them and goes to join the others. The front door is open. Abrams and Nick go in. Abrams knocks on a door on the left side of the corridor. The door is opened by a plainclothesman who says, “Nary hide or hair of her yet.”
A policeman in uniform and another in plain clothes are bent over a table doing a crossword puzzle together. They rise hastily as Abrams comes in, but he pays no attention to them.
Abrams, as they go in. “This is Polly’s apartment. There’s nothing much here except you’ll notice the rug’s new.”
Nick looks at the rug and says, “Oh, I saw a new one once in a store window.”
Abrams, patiently. “All right, but wait — maybe it don’t mean anything, maybe it does.”
Nick asks, “What do you think it means?”
Abrams sighs and says, “If I knew, do you think I’d be wasting your time dragging you up here? We’ll go back here, now.” He leads the way out of Polly’s apartment down the hall to an apartment on the same floor in the rear, unlocking it with a key from his pocket, saying as he opens the door “This is the fellow’s that was killed — that Pedro Dominges.”
Nick says quickly, “Another new rug — I said it first.”
Abrams, pointing to the other end of the living room, where there is a rug rolled up and lying against the wall. “There’s another one.”
Nick asks, “What is this rug racket? Are we hunting for an Armenian?”
Abrams. “Maybe you’re right in kidding me — maybe none of this means anything, but just the same, he bought twelve rugs only a couple of days ago and that’s just how many apartments he’s got in the place.” He walks over to the table and says, “Here’s the bill. And the one apartment that didn’t get a rug was rented only last week to somebody named Anderson. No front name — no Mr. or Miss or Mrs., according to his books here. I want to show you that next.”
Nick asks, “What have you found out about him?”
Abrams. “Nothing. This guy Dominges ran this place by himself. We haven’t found anybody who ever saw this Anderson.”
There is a terrific uproar from the corridor. They go to the door to see Asta, a goat, and Nora (at the other end of Asta’s leash) all tangled up together, while David is trying to untangle them. When the goat has finally been chased out, they all return to Pedro’s apartment.
As Nick helps Nora brush off her clothes, she says, “Why that drunken man was right — there are goats in the hall.”
Nick. “You can always trust my friends, drunk or sober. Is that what you came down here to find out?”