Read Online Rex Stout_Tecumseh Fox 02 by Bad for Business - Free Book Online

similarly, but exhibited no surprise when he wrote “William Sherman” on the registration sheet.
    He smiled at the clerk and said, “The police are after me, and they may even canvass the hotels, but I intend to sleep.” He put a fingertip on the “William Sherman.” “You can always trust the written word.”
    “Certainly, Mr. Fox.” The clerk smiled back.
    In a clean and comfortable room on the twelfth floor, Fox got his notebook from his pocket and flipped to a page, and arranged himself at ease in an upholstered chair next to the telephone. He stayed there half an hour, making a series of seven calls. The sixth was to his home in the country, to tell Mrs. Trimble that there would probably be an inquiry forhim, and that he wasn’t telling her where he was so she wouldn’t know. The seventh was to the East End hospital, to tell Dr. Vail where he was, and to learn, as he did, that Miss Duncan had no serious injury, had been safely transported, and was fairly comfortable.
    He undressed and went to bed a nudist.

Chapter 5

    T hough the detective bureaus of the New York City police force are by no means staffed exclusively by university graduates—a questionable fate which Scotland Yard in London seems to be headed for—neither does their personnel consist entirely of heavy-handed big-jawed low-brows. Inspector Damon of the Homicide Squad, for instance, while he is rather big-jawed, possesses fine sensitive hands, a wide well-sculptured brow, and eyes which might easily belong to a morose and pessimistic poet. His educated voice is rarely raised but has an extended repertory, as is desirable for a man who deals daily with all kinds from disintegrating dips to bereaved dowagers.
    As he sat behind his desk at headquarters at eleven o’clock on Wednesday morning, speaking to a man seated opposite—a gray-haired man with the four buttons on his coat all buttoned and his hands folded in his lap in the manner traditional to parsons—his voice was merely businesslike:
    “That’s all for now, Mr. Fry, but you will of course keep yourself available. I have told Miss Yates that beginning at noon things can proceed as usual at theTingley premises, with the exception of Mr. Tingley’s room. We’ll have two men in there day and night, and nothing is to be touched, and certainly not removed, without their approval. I am aware of your authority, jointly with Miss Yates, as a trustee, and we’ll cooperate all we can, but if there are any documents or records in that room—”
    “I told you there’s none I need,” Sol Fry rumbled angrily. “The records of my department are where they belong. But I don’t care a Continental—”
    “So you said. That’s all. It will be the way I say for the present—Allen, show Mr. Fry out and bring Fox in.”
    A sergeant in uniform stepped forward to open the door, and after another rumble or two Sol Fry gave it up and went. In a moment Tecumseh Fox entered, crossed briskly to the desk, and stood.
    “Good morning, Inspector,” he said politely.
    Damon grunted. As he sat looking up at the caller his eyes were not only morose but also malign. After a silence he extended a hand.
    “All right, Fox, I’ll shake, but by God. Sit down.”
    Fox sat. “You’re going to find—” he began, but the other cut him off:
    “No, no. Try keeping quiet once. I’m going to make a short speech. Do I ever bluster?”
    “I’ve never heard you.”
    “You’re not going to. Nor do I get nasty unnecessarily. But here is a statement of the minimum: you and Miss Duncan together held up a murder investigation twelve hours. It’s true you phoned last night, but you concealed the vital witness, the one to start with, and kept her from us until morning. What you do around other parts of the country is none of my business, but I warned you three years ago againstoperating in New York City on the theory that when you’re running bases the umpires go out for a drink. Have you seen the district