Death of a Doxy (Crime Line)

Not the kitchen. He was taking no chances. What if a man-eating tiger bounded in through the kitchen window and they scooted down the hall and saw Ballou? I told them they were welcome to my room as long as they didn't rummage, and they headed for the stairs. Wolfe gave them a full minute to get up the two flights and then told me to bring Ballou. He was still on the sofa, but when I entered he sat up and started talking. I told him to save it for Wolfe, and he got to his feet and came. I swear his first glance, as he crossed to the red leather chair, was at the package on Wolfe's desk. A habit is a habit, even when you're up a tree.

As he sat, he spoke. "I've been going over it. I have answered your questions, and I have made you a liberal offer, more than liberal. Either you accept it or you don't. The other day you told me Cather wasn't a murderer. Don't try to tell me now that he's not a blackmailer."

"You anticipate me," Wolfe said. "Mr. Cather is not a blackmailer."

Ballou stared. "You actually – after what I…" He rose and picked up the package. "By God, you are committed."

"I am indeed. I can name the blackmailer. Sit down."

"I have already named him."

"No. You know only his noms de guerre, Robert Service Kipling and Milton Thales. His real name is Barry Fleming. The husband of Miss Kerr's sister."

"That's absurd. You didn't even know I had been blackmailed until an hour ago."

Wolfe would have had to slant his head back to focus on his face, and he doesn't like to, so he wasn't focusing at all. "For a man of affairs," he said, "you're remarkably obtuse. You're in a pickle, and I am your only hope. You must have help, and you can't go to a lawyer, or to anyone, without disclosing your connection with Miss Kerr and a murder. But you talk and act as if you were in control. You spring to your feet and grab that package of money. Pfui. You probably have no further information for me. Either sit down and listen, or go."

You have to hand it to the president of the Federal Holding Corporation. He had pride and he had grit. If he had put the package back on Wolfe's desk he would have been buckling under, so he didn't. He put it on the little stand by the red leather chair, and there it was at his elbow when he sat, under his control.

"I'm listening," he said.