"I know who you are," I said. "I caught your show last week and you were wonderful. I'm not a cop, I'm a private detective. I work for Nero Wolfe. When you get your breath you'll tell me why you're here."
She turned, slowly. It took her five seconds to make the half-turn to face me. "You hurt me," she said.
"No apology. A squeeze and a little bruise on an arm are nothing to what you had in mind."
She rubbed the arm, her head tilted back to look up at me, still breathing through her mouth. I was being surprised that I had recognized her. On the stage she was extremely easy on the eyes. Now she was just a thirty-year-old female with a good enough face, in a plain gray suit and a plain little hat, but of course she was under strain.
She spoke. "Are you Nero Wolfe's Archie Goodwin?"
"No. I'm my Archie Goodwin. I'm Nero Wolfe's confidential assistant."
"I know about you." She was getting enough air through her nose. "I know you're a gentleman." She extended a hand to touch my sleeve. "I came here to get something that belongs to me. I'll get it and go. All right?"
"What is it?"
"A - a something with my initials on it. A cigarette case."
"How did it get here?"
She tried to smile, as a lady to a gentleman, but it was a feeble effort. A famous actress should have done better, even under strain. "Does that matter, Mr. Goodwin? It's mine. I can describe it. It's dull gold, with an emerald in a corner on one side and my initials on the other."
I smiled as a gentleman to a lady. "When did you leave it here?"
"I didn't say I left it here."
"Was it Sunday evening?"
"No. I wasn't here Sunday evening."
"Did you kill Yeager?"
She slapped me. That is, she slapped at me. She was certainly impetuous. Also she was quick, but so was I. I caught her wrist and gave it a little twist, not enough to hurt much, and let go. There was a gleam in her eyes, and she looked more like Meg Duncan. "You're a man, aren't you?" she said.
"I can be. Right now I'm just a working detective. Did you kill Yeager?"
"No. Of course not." Her hand came up again, but only to touch my sleeve. "Let me get my cigarette case and go."
I shook my head. "You'll have to manage without it for a while. Do you know who killed Yeager?"
"Of course not." Her fingers curved around my arm, not a grip, just a touch. "I know I can't bribe you, Mr. Goodwin, I know enough about you to know that, but detectives do things for people, don't they? I can pay you to do something for me, can't I? If you won't let me get my cigarette case you can get it for me, and keep it for me. You can give it to me later, you can decide when, I don't care as long as you keep it." Her fingers pressed a little. '' I would pay whatever you say. A thousand dollars?"
Things were looking up, but it was getting a little complicated. At 4:30 yesterday afternoon we had had no client and no prospect of any. Then one had come but had turned out to be a phony. Then Mrs. Perez had dangled a hundred bucks and perhaps more. Now this customer was offering a grand. I was digging up clients all right, but too many clients can be worse than too few.
I regarded her. "It might work," I said. "It's like this. Actually I can't take a job; I'm employed by Nero Wolfe. He takes the jobs. I'm going to look this place over, and if I find your cigarette case, as I will if it's here, I'll take it. Give me your keys, to the door down below and the elevator."
Her fingers left my arm. "Give them to you?"
"Right. You won't need them any more." I glanced at my wrist. "It's ten-thirty-five. You have no matinee today. Come to Nero Wolfe's office at half past two. Six-eighteen West Thirty-fifth Street. Your cigarette case will be there, and you can settle it with Mr. Wolfe."
"But why can't you - "
"No. That's how it is, and I have things to do." I put a hand out. "The keys."
"Why can't I - "
"I said no. There's no argument and no time. Damn it, I'm giving you a break. The keys."
She opened her bag, fingered in it, took out a leather key fold, and handed it over. I un-snapped it, saw two Rabson keys, which are not like any others, displayed them to Perez, and asked if they were the keys to the door and the elevator. He took a look and said yes. Dropping them in a pocket, I pushed the button to open the elevator door and told Meg Duncan, "I'll see you later. Half past two."
"Why can't I stay until you find - "
"Nothing doing. I'll be too busy for company."
She stepped in, the door closed, the click came, and the faint sound. I turned to Perez.
"You've never seen her before."
"No. Never."
"Phooey. When you brought things up at midnight?"
"I only saw him. She could have been in the bathroom."
"Where's the bathroom?"
He pointed. "At that end."
I went to his wife. "When she saw you she said, 'Thank God it's you.' "
She nodded. "I heard her. She must see me some time when she came in, in the hall or a door was open. We don't know her. We never saw her."
"The things you don't know. All right now, you two. It will take hours and will have to wait because I have things to do, but one question now." To him: "When you put the body in the hole why did you climb in and put the tarp over it?"
He was surprised. "But he was dead! A man dead, you cover him! I knew that thing was in there, I had seen it."
That was the moment that I decided that Cesar Perez had not killed Thomas G. Yeager. Possibly his wife had, but not him. If you had been there looking at him as he said that, you would have decided the same. When I had been trying to account for the tarp the simplest explanation had never occurred to me, that long ago people covered dead men to hide them from vultures, and it got to be a habit.
"That was decent," I said. "Too bad you didn't wear gloves. Okay, that's all for now. I have work to do. You heard me give that woman Nero Wolfe's address, Six-eighteen West Thirty-fifth Street. Be there at six o'clock this afternoon, both of you. I'm your detective temporarily, but he's the boss. You certainly need help, and after you tell him about it we'll see. Where are Yeager's keys? Don't say 'We don't know.' You said you took them. Where are they?"
"I have them safe," Mrs. Perez said.
"Where?"
"In a cake. I made a cake and put them in. There are twelve keys in a thing."
"Including the keys to the door and the elevator?"
"Yes."
I considered. I was already on thin ice, and if I took possession of something that had been taken from Yeager's body there would be no ice at all between me and suppression of evidence. No. "Don't cut the cake," I said, "and be darned sure nobody else does. Are you going anywhere today? Either of you?"
"We don't have to," she said.
"Then don't. Nero Wolfe's office at six o'clock, but I'll see you when I come down, probably in an hour or so."
"You take things?"
"I don't know. If I do I'll show them to you, including the cigarette case. If I take anything you think I shouldn't, you can call in that cop from out front."
"We couldn't," Perez said.
"He makes a joke," she told him. She pushed the button to bring the elevator up. "This is a bad day, Cesar. There will be many bad days, and he makes a joke." The elevator clicked at the top, she pushed another button, the door opened, and they entered and were gone.
I moved my eyes around. At the edge of a panel of red silk at the left was a rectangular brass plate, if it wasn't gold. I went and pushed on it, and it gave. The panel was a door. I pushed it open and stepped through, and was in the kitchen. The walls were red tile, the cupboards and shelves were yellow plastic, and the sink and appliances, including the refrigerator and electric range, were stainless steel. I opened the refrigerator door, saw a collection of various items, and closed it. I slid a cupboard door back and saw nine bottles of Dom Perignon champagne on their sides in a plastic rack. That would do for the kitchen for now. I emerged and walked the length of the yellow carpet, surrounded by silk and skin, to the other end, where there was another brass plate, or gold, at the edge of a panel. I pushed it open and was in the bathroom. I don't know what your taste is, but I liked it. It was all mirrors and marble, red marble with yellow streaks and splotches. The tub, big enough for two, was the same marble. Two of the mirrors were doors to cabinets, and they contained enough different cosmetic items to supply a harem.