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“You're entirely justified,” he told Sperling. Tm tired and I was going on merely through habit. I also said this morning that if it was an accident no one would be better pleased than me but I had to know who was responsible. Well, this certainly should satisfy me on that.” He put the folded paper in his pocket. “No, I don't want to make mud. God knows enough gets made without me helping.” He got to his feet. “Will you call at my office in White Plains tomorrow morning, Mr Kane-say around eleven o'clock? If I'm not there ask for Mr Gurran.” “I'll be there,” Kane promised.

“What for?” Sperling demanded.

“For a formality.” Archer nodded. “That's all, a formality. I'll commit myself to that now. I can't see that any good purpose would be served by a charge and a prosecution. I'll phone Gurran this evening and ask him to look up the motor vehicle statutes regarding an accident occurring on private property. It's possible there will have to be a fine or suspension of driving licence, but under all the circumstances I would prefer to see it wiped off.” He extended a hand to Sperling. “No hard feelings, I hope?” Sperling said not. Archer shook hands with Kane, with Wolfe, and even with me.

He told us all that he hoped that the next time he saw us it would be on a more cheerful occasion. He departed.

Wolfe was sitting with his head tilted to one side, as if it needed too much energy to keep it straight, and his eyes were shut. Kane and Sperling and I were standing, having been polite enough to arise to tell Archer good-bye, unlike Wolfe.

Kane spoke to Sperling. “Thank God that's over. If you don't need me any more I'll go and see if I can get some work done. I'd rather not show up at dinner.

Of course they'll have to know about it, but I'd prefer not to face them until tomorrow,” “Go ahead,” Sperling agreed. “I'll stop by your room later.” Kane started off. Wolfe opened his eyes, muttered, “Wait a minute,” and straightened his head.

Kane halted and asked, “Do you mean me?” “If you don't mind.” Wolfe's tone wasn't as civil as his words. “Can your work wait a little?” “It can if it has to. Why?” Td like to have a little talk with you.” Kane sent a glance at Sperling, but it didn't reach its destination because the Chairman of the Board had taken another piece of paper from his pocket and was looking at it. This one was unfolded, oblong, and pink in colour. As Kane stood hesitating, Sperling stepped to Wolfe and extended his hand with the paper in it.

“You earned it,” he said. Tm glad I hired you.” Wolfe took the paper, lowered his eyes to it, and looked up. “Indeed,” he said.

“Fifty thousand dollars.” Sperling nodded, as I nod to a bootblack when I tip him a dime. “Added to five makes fifty-five. If it doesn't cover your damage and expenses and fee, send me a bill.” “Thank you, I'll do that. Of course I can't tell what expenses are still to come. I may-” “Expenses of what?” “Of my investigation of Mr Rony's death. I may-” “What is there to investigate?” “I don't know.” Wolfe put the cheque in his pocket. “I may be easily satisfied.

I'd like to ask Mr Kane a few questions.” “What for? Why should you?” “Why shouldn't I?” Wolfe was bland. “Surely I'm entitled to as many as Mr Archer. Does he object to answering a dozen questions? Do you, Mr Kane?” “Certainly not.” “Good. I'll make it brief, but I do wish you'd sit down.” Kane sat, but on the edge of the chair. Sperling did not concede that much. He stood with his hands in his pockets, looking down at Wolfe with no admiration.

“First,” Wolfe asked, “how did you determine that Mr Rony was dead?” “My God, you should have seen him!” “But I didn't; and you couldn't have seen him any too well, since it was nearly dark. Did you put your hand inside and feel his heart?” Kane shook his head. I wasn't surprised he didn't nod it, since I had learned for myself that Rony's upper torso had been in no condition for that test, with his clothes all mixed up with his ribs. That was how I had described it to Wolfe.

“I didn't have to,” Kane said. “He was all smashed.” “Could you see how badly he was smashed, in the dark?” “I could feel it. Anyhow it wasn't pitch dark-I could see some.” “I suppose you could see a bone, since bones are white. I understand that a humerus-the bone of the upper arm-had torn through the flesh and the clothing and was protruding several inches. Which arm was it?” That was a pure lie. He understood no such thing, and it wasn't true.

“My God, I don't know,” Kane protested. “I wasn't making notes of things like that.” “I suppose not,” Wolfe admitted. “But you saw, or felt, the bone sticking out?” “I-perhaps I did-I don't know.” Wolfe gave that up. “When you dragged him across to the shrub, what did you take hold of? What part of him?” “I don't remember.” “Nonsense. You didn't drag him a yard or two, it was fifty feet or more. You couldn't possibly forget. Did you take him by the feet? The head? The coat collar? An arm?” “I don't remember.” “I don't see how you could help remembering. Perhaps this will bring it back to you: when you got him behind the shrub was his head pointing towards the house or away from the house?” Kane was frowning. “I should remember that.” “You should indeed.” “But I don't.” Kane shook his head. “I simply don't remember.” “I see.” Wolfe leaned back. That's all, Mr Kane.” He flipped a hand. “Go and get on with your work.” Kane was on his feet before Wolfe had finished. “I did the best I could,” he said apologetically. “As I said, I don't seem to measure up very well in a crisis. I must have been so rattled I didn't know what I was doing.” He glanced at Sperling, got no instructions one way or another, glanced again at Wolfe, sidled between two chairs, headed for the door, and was gone.

When the door had closed behind him Sperling looked down at Wolfe and demanded, “What good did that do?” Wolfe grunted. “None at all. It did harm. It made it impossible for me, when I return home, to forget all this and set about restoring my plants.” He slanted his head back to get Sperling's face. “He must owe you a great deal-or he would hate to lose his job. How did you get him to sign that statement?” “I didn't get him to. As it says, he wrote and signed it of his own free will.” Tfui. I know what it says. But why should I believe that when I don't believe anything in it?” “You're not serious.” Sperling smiled like an angel. “Kane is one of this country's leading economists. Would a man of his reputation and standing sign such a statement if it weren't true?” “Whether he would or not, he did.” Wolfe was getting peevish. “With enough incentive, of course he would; and you have a good supply. You were lucky he was around, since he was ideal for the purpose.” Wolfe waved a hand, finishing with Mr Kane. “You handled it well; that statement is admirably drafted. But I wonder if you fully realize the position you've put me in?” “Of course I do.” Sperling was sympathetic. “You engaged to do a job and you did it well. Your performance here yesterday afternoon was without a flaw. It persuaded my daughter to drop Rony, and that was all I wanted. The accident of his death doesn't detract from the excellence of your job.” “I know it doesn't,” Wolfe agreed, “but that job was finished. The trouble is, you hired me for another job, to investigate Mr Rony's death. I now-” “That one is finished too.” “Oh, no. By no means. You've hoodwinked Mr Archer by getting Mr Kane to sign that statement, but you haven't gulled me.” Wolfe shook his head and sighed. “I only wish you had.” Sperling gazed at him a moment, moved to the chair Archer had used, sat, leaned forward, and demanded, “Listen, Wolfe, who do you think you are, Saint George?” “I do not.” Wolfe repudiated it indignantly. “No matter who killed a wretch like Mr Rony, and whether by accident or design, I would be quite willing to let that false statement be the last word. But I have committed myself. I have lied to the police. That's nothing, I do it constantly. I warned you last night that I withhold information from the police only when it concerns a case I'm engaged on; and that commits me to stay with the case until I am satisfied that it's solved. I said you couldn't hire me one day and fire me the next, and you agreed. Now you think you can. Now you think you can drop me because I can no longer get you in a pickle by giving Mr Archer a true account of the conversation in this room yesterday afternoon, and you're right. If I went to him now and confessed, now that he has that statement, he would reproach me politely and forget about it. I wish I could forget about it too, but I can't.