Llewellyn Frost.”
“That one, eh?” Cramer grunted. “To keep somebody clear?”
“No. To solve the murder.”
“You don’t say. How long did it take you?”
Wolfe got himself forward to pour beer, and drank. Cramer was going on: “What got Lew Frost so worked up about it? I don’t get it. It wasn’t him that the Lauck girl was after, it was that Frenchman, Perren Gebert. Why is Lew Frost so anxious to spend good dough for a hunk of truth and justice?”
“I couldn’t say.” Wolfe wiped his lips. “As a matter of fact, there is nothing whatever I can tell you. I haven’t the faintest notion—”
“You mean to say you went clear to 52nd Street just for the exercise?”
“No. God forbid. But I have no scrap of information, or surmise, for you regarding Miss Lauck’s death.”
“Well.” Cramer rubbed a palm on his knee. “Of course, I know that the fact you’ve got nothing for me doesn’t prove you have nothing for yourself. You going on with it?”
“I am.”
“You’re not committed to Lew Frost to dig holes for anybody?”
“If I understand you—I think I do—I am not.”
Cramer stared at his worn-out cigar for a minute, then reached out and put it in the ashtray and felt in his pocket for a new one. He bit off the end and got the shreds off his tongue, socked his teeth into it again, and lit it. He puffed a thick cloud around him, got a new grip with his teeth, and settled back.
He said, “As conceited as you are, Wolfe, you told me once that I am better equipped to handle nine murder cases out of ten than you are.”
“Did I?”
“Yeah. So I’ve been keeping count, and this Lauck case is the tenth since that rubber band guy, old man Perry. It’s your turn again, so I’m glad you’re already in it without me having to shove you. I know; you don’t like to tell people things, not even Goodwin here. But since you’ve been up there, you might be willing to admit that you know how it happened. I understand that you’ve talked with McNair and the two girls who saw her eat it.”
Wolfe nodded. “I’ve heard the obvious details.”
“Okay. Obvious is right. I’ve gone over it ten times with those two. I’ve had sessions with everybody in the place. I’ve had twenty men out chasing after everyone who was there at the fashion show that day, and I’ve seen a couple of dozen of them myself. I’ve had half the force checking up all over town on sales of two-pound boxes of Bailey’s Royal Medley during thepast month, and the other half trying to trace purchases of potassium cyanide. I’ve sent two men out to Darby, Ohio, where Molly Lauck’s parents live. I’ve had shadows on ten or twelve people where it looked like there was a chance of a tie-up.”
“You see,” Wolfe murmured, “as I said, you are better equipped.”
“Go to hell. I use what I’ve got, and you know damn well I’m a good cop. But after these eight days, I don’t even know for sure whether Molly Lauck was killed by poison that was intended for someone else. What if the Frost girl and the Mitchell girl did it together? You couldn’t beat it for a set-up, and maybe they’re that clever. Knowing Molly Lauck liked to play jokes, maybe they planted it for her to swipe, or maybe they just gave it to her and then told their story. But why? That’s another item, I can’t find anyone who had any reason at all to want to kill her. It seems she was mellow in the pump about this Perren Gebert and he couldn’t see her, but there’s no evidence that she was making herself a nuisance to him.”
Wolfe murmured, “Mellow where?”
I put in, “Okay, boss. Soft-hearted.”
“Gebert was there that day, too.” Cramer went on, “but I can’t get anywhere with him on that. There hasn’t been another single nibble on motive,
if
the stuff was intended for Molly Lauck. In my opinion, it wasn’t. It looks like she really did swipe it. And the minute you take that theory, what have you got? You’ve got
“That one, eh?” Cramer grunted. “To keep somebody clear?”
“No. To solve the murder.”
“You don’t say. How long did it take you?”
Wolfe got himself forward to pour beer, and drank. Cramer was going on: “What got Lew Frost so worked up about it? I don’t get it. It wasn’t him that the Lauck girl was after, it was that Frenchman, Perren Gebert. Why is Lew Frost so anxious to spend good dough for a hunk of truth and justice?”
“I couldn’t say.” Wolfe wiped his lips. “As a matter of fact, there is nothing whatever I can tell you. I haven’t the faintest notion—”
“You mean to say you went clear to 52nd Street just for the exercise?”
“No. God forbid. But I have no scrap of information, or surmise, for you regarding Miss Lauck’s death.”
“Well.” Cramer rubbed a palm on his knee. “Of course, I know that the fact you’ve got nothing for me doesn’t prove you have nothing for yourself. You going on with it?”
“I am.”
“You’re not committed to Lew Frost to dig holes for anybody?”
“If I understand you—I think I do—I am not.”
Cramer stared at his worn-out cigar for a minute, then reached out and put it in the ashtray and felt in his pocket for a new one. He bit off the end and got the shreds off his tongue, socked his teeth into it again, and lit it. He puffed a thick cloud around him, got a new grip with his teeth, and settled back.
He said, “As conceited as you are, Wolfe, you told me once that I am better equipped to handle nine murder cases out of ten than you are.”
“Did I?”
“Yeah. So I’ve been keeping count, and this Lauck case is the tenth since that rubber band guy, old man Perry. It’s your turn again, so I’m glad you’re already in it without me having to shove you. I know; you don’t like to tell people things, not even Goodwin here. But since you’ve been up there, you might be willing to admit that you know how it happened. I understand that you’ve talked with McNair and the two girls who saw her eat it.”
Wolfe nodded. “I’ve heard the obvious details.”
“Okay. Obvious is right. I’ve gone over it ten times with those two. I’ve had sessions with everybody in the place. I’ve had twenty men out chasing after everyone who was there at the fashion show that day, and I’ve seen a couple of dozen of them myself. I’ve had half the force checking up all over town on sales of two-pound boxes of Bailey’s Royal Medley during thepast month, and the other half trying to trace purchases of potassium cyanide. I’ve sent two men out to Darby, Ohio, where Molly Lauck’s parents live. I’ve had shadows on ten or twelve people where it looked like there was a chance of a tie-up.”
“You see,” Wolfe murmured, “as I said, you are better equipped.”
“Go to hell. I use what I’ve got, and you know damn well I’m a good cop. But after these eight days, I don’t even know for sure whether Molly Lauck was killed by poison that was intended for someone else. What if the Frost girl and the Mitchell girl did it together? You couldn’t beat it for a set-up, and maybe they’re that clever. Knowing Molly Lauck liked to play jokes, maybe they planted it for her to swipe, or maybe they just gave it to her and then told their story. But why? That’s another item, I can’t find anyone who had any reason at all to want to kill her. It seems she was mellow in the pump about this Perren Gebert and he couldn’t see her, but there’s no evidence that she was making herself a nuisance to him.”
Wolfe murmured, “Mellow where?”
I put in, “Okay, boss. Soft-hearted.”
“Gebert was there that day, too.” Cramer went on, “but I can’t get anywhere with him on that. There hasn’t been another single nibble on motive,
if
the stuff was intended for Molly Lauck. In my opinion, it wasn’t. It looks like she really did swipe it. And the minute you take that theory, what have you got? You’ve got
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