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matter what facade he presented. There was the question, if you were in fact a Communist or a sympathizer, why did you so badger your nephew that he had to pacify you by telling the lie that he was working for the FBI? Why didn't you confide in him your own devotion to the cause? Of course you didn't dare. There would have been the danger that he might recant; he might have become an ex-Communist and told all he knew, as so many have done the past year or two; and to preserve your facade for your husband and friends you had to keep after him. It must have been a severe shock when you learned, or thought you did, that he was an agent of communism's implacable enemy. It made him an imminent threat, there in your own household."

Wolfe came forward in his chair. "That was all speculation two days ago, but not now. Your meeting with Mr. Heath has made it a confident assumption. Why would you make a secret rendezvous with him? What could give him the right to demand that you withdraw the offer of money for Miss Devlin? Well. If you are secretly a Communist, almost certainly you have contributed substantial sums of money--to the party of course, but also to the bail fund; and Mr. Heath is the trustee of the bail fund and is inviting a term in jail rather than disclose the names of the contributors. So, madam, my stratagem worked--with, I confess, a full share of luck. Mr. Goodwin and I have been under some strain. Until a few minutes ago, when he entered and told me you two were here, I wouldn't have wagered a nickel on it. Now it's over, thank heaven. My assumptions are on rock. You're cooked."

"You're a conceited fool," Mrs. Rackell said flatly. For the first time I thought she was really impressive. He hadn't made a dent in her. She was still dead sure of herself. "With your crazy assumptions," she said. "I was resting on a park bench, and this Mr. Heath came along and spoke." She darted a contemptuous glance at Saul. "Whatever lies that man tells about what he heard."

Wolfe nodded. "That of course is your best position, and no doubt you're capable of defending it against all assault, so

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I won't try butting it." He looked at Heath. "But yours is much weaker, and I don't see how you can hold it."

"I have withstood better men than you," Heath declared. "Men in positions of great power. Men who head the imperialist conspiracy to dominate the world."

"No doubt," Wolfe conceded. "But even if you appraise them correctly, which I question, right now you have to appraise me. I head no conspiracy to dominate anything, but I've got you in a hole you can't scramble out of. Must I spell it out for you? You're a trustee of that Communist bail fund, amounting to nearly a million dollars, and at great personal risk you are determined to keep the names of the contributors secret. Court orders haven't budged you. Obviously you prefer any alternative to disclosure of the names. But you're going to disclose one of them to me now: Mrs. Benjamin Rackell. And the amounts and dates of her contributions. Well?"

"No comment."

"Pfui. I say you can't hold it. Consider what's going to happen. I am convinced that Mrs. Rackell murdered her nephew because she thought he was spying on Communists for the FBI, and therefore, of course, her own secret was in danger. The FBI and the police will now share that conviction. Whether it takes a day or a year, do you think there's any chance we won't get her? Knowing she had the poison, do you think we won't discover where and how she got it?"

Wolfe shook his head. "No. You'll have to ditch her. She's too hot to hold. The police will put it to you--have you any knowledge or evidence that she has been in sympathy with the Communist cause? You say no or refuse to answer. Subsequently they get such evidence, with proof that you were aware of it; it is easily possible that, through some process which you cannot avert, they will get the whole list of contributors. And instead of a brief commitment for contempt , of court you'll get a considerable term for withholding vital � evidence in a murder case. Besides, what of the cause you're devoted to? You know the opinion of communism held by , most Americans, including me. To the odium already attached H"to it would you add the stigma of shielding a murderer?"

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Wolfe raised his brows. "Really, Mr. Heath. There are plenty of precedents to guide you. This will be by no means the first time that an act of misguided zeal by a Communist has come home to roost. In the countries they rule the jails are full--let alone the graves--of former comrades who were indiscreet. In America, where you don't rule and I hope you never will, can you afford the luxury of shielding a murderer? No. She's too much for you. How much has she contributed and when?"

Heath's face was really something. If he hadn't inherited money he could have piled it up playing poker. From looking at him no one could have got the faintest notion how to bet.

He stood up. "I'll let you know tomorrow," he said.

Wolfe grunted. "Oh no. I want to phone the police to come for her. They'll want a statement from you. Archie?"

I got up and moved and was between the company and the door. Heath moved too. "I'm going," he said, and came. When I stood pat he swerved to circle around me. It would have been a pleasure to plug him, but I refrained and merely got his shoulder, whirled him, and propelled him a little. He stumbled but stayed upright.

"This is assault," he told Wolfe, not me. "And illegal restraint. You'll regret this."

"Bosh." Wolfe suddenly blew up. "Confound it, do you think I'm going to let you walk out to call a meeting of your Politburo? Do you think I don't know when I've got you hooked? You can't possibly hang onto her. Talk sense! Can you?"

"No," he said.

"Are you ready to disclose the facts?"

"Not to you. To the police, yes."

Mrs. Rackell snapped at him, "Have you gone mad, you fool?"

He stared at her. I've heard a lot of phony cracks in that office, of all kinds and shapes, but that one by Henry Jameson Heath took the cake. Staring at her, he said calmly, "I must do my duty as a citizen, Mrs. Rackell."

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Wolfe spoke. "Archie, get Mr. Cramer." I stepped to my desk and dialed.

(� aturday noon, the next day, Wengert and Cramer stood C2) there in the office, at the end of Wolfe's desk. They were standing because, having been there nearly an hour and covered all the points, they were ready to leave. They had not admitted in so many words that Wolfe had done the American people, including them, a favor, but on the whole they had been sociable.

As they were turning to go I said, "Excuse me, one little thing."

They looked at me. I spoke to Wengert. "I thought Mr. Wolfe might mention it, but he didn't, and neither did you. I only bring it up to offer a constructive criticism. An FBI undercover girl, even one disguised as a Commie, shouldn't get in the habit of hurting people's feelings just for the hell of it. It didn't do a particle of good for Carol Berk to call me a crummy little stooge before a witness. Of course she was sore because I found her in the closet, but even so. I think you ought to speak to her about it."

Wengert was frowning at me. "Carol Berk? What kind of |. a gag is this?"

"Oh, come off it." I was disgusted. "How thick could I

i get? It was so obvious Mr. Wolfe didn't even bother to com

I ment on it. Who else could have told you about my talk with

, Delia Devlin? She trusted Miss Berk enough to let her hide

I in the closet, so of course she told her about it. Do you want

r to debate it with me on TV?''

"No. Nor with anybody else. You talk too damn much." "Only with the right people. Say please, and I'll promise .not to tell. I just wanted to make a helpful suggestion. I may ;,be crummy and I may be a stooge, but I'm not little."

Cramer snorted. "If you ask me there's too much of you.

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About a hundred and eighty pounds too much. Come on, Wengert, I'm late."

They went. I supposed that was the last of that, but a couple of days later, Monday afternoon, while Wolfe was dictating a letter, the phone rang and a voice said it was Carol Berk. I said hello, showing no enthusiasm, and asked her, "How are your manners?"