The Mother Hunt

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around her throat and had been dead five or six hours. She has beententatively identified as Ellen Tenzer of Mahopac, New York. That’s it. I can call downstairs for the latest and call you back if it’s that important.”
    I told him no, thanks, it wasn’t important at all, and hung up. So did Wolfe. He glared at me and I glared back.
    “This makes it nice,” I said. “Talk about ifs.” He shook his head.
    “Futile.”
    “One particular if. If I had stuck and gone to work on her then and there I might have opened her up and she would be here right now and we would be wrapping it up. To hell with intelligence guided by experience.”
    “Futile.”
    “What isn’t, now? We couldn’t have asked for anything neater than white horsehair buttons, and now we’ve got absolutely nothing, and well have Stebbins and Cramer on our necks. Thirty-eighth Street is in Homicide South.”
    “Homicide is their problem, not ours.”
    “Tell them that. The niece will tell them that a button merchant named Archie Goodwin got her to give him her aunt’s address Thursday afternoon. The guy at the filling station will describe the man who wanted directions to her place Friday morning. They’ll find thousands of my fingerprints all over the house, including the cellar, nice and fresh. I might as well call Parker now and tell him to get set to arrange bail when I’m booked as a material witness.”
    Wolfe grunted. “You can supply no information relevant to the murder.”
    I stared. “The hell I can’t.”
    “I think not. Let’s consider it.” He leaned back and closed his eyes, but his lips didn’t start the in-and-out routine. That was needed only for problems that werereally tough. In a minute he opened his eyes and straightened. “It’s fairly simple. A woman came with those overalls and hired me to find out where the buttons came from, and I placed that advertisement. It was answered by Beatrice Epps, and she told you of Anne Tenzer, and Anne Tenzer told you of her aunt, and you went to Mahopac. Since the aunt is dead, the rest is entirely at your discretion. You can’t be impeached. As a suggestion: she said she was about to leave to keep an appointment, and after a brief conversation you asked permission to wait there until she returned, and she gave it, saying that she didn’t know how long it would be. There alone, and curious about the importance of the white horsehair buttons to our client, and having time to pass, you explored the premises. That should do.”
    “Not naming the client?”
    “Certainly not.”
    “Then it won’t be material witness. Withholding evidence. She made the buttons the client wanted to know about, and I was there asking about them, and she got in touch with someone who is connected with the buttons, and the client is connected with the buttons, so they want to ask her questions, so I will name her or else.”
    “You have a reply. The client had no knowledge of Ellen Tenzer; she hired me to find out where the buttons came from. Therefore it is highly improbable that Ellen Tenzer had knowledge of the client. We are not obliged to disclose a client’s name merely because the police would like to test a tenuous assumption.”
    I took a minute to look at it. “We might get away with it,” I conceded. “I can take it if you can. As for your suggestion, you left out my going to phone you and buylunch, but if they dig that up I can say that was after she left. However, I have a couple of questions. Maybe three. Isn’t it likely that Ellen Tenzer would still be alive if you hadn’t taken this job and run the ad and sent me to see her?”
    “More than likely.”
    “Then wouldn’t the cops be more likely to nail the character who killed her if they know what we know, especially about the baby?”
    “Certainly.”
    “Okay. You said, quote, ‘Homicide is their problem, not ours.’ If you mean that all the way, it will get on my nerves. It might even cost me some sleep. I saw her and

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