Death of a Doxy (Crime Line)

"A mule would say it backward. When X told Isabel he was being blackmailed, she knew it must be Barry. She tried to make him stop, but he wouldn't. Finally she told him she was going to tell Stella; she had probably threatened to before. That was Saturday morning. She told him she had definitely decided to tell Stella when she saw her that evening, and he killed her. Count up to two."

"Don't wear me out." She shoved the table away, and the vase swayed, and I jumped to save it. She slid down in the bed, tossed one of the pillows on the floor, and propped her head on the other two. "You're quick," she said. "Graceful, too. You could make a chorus line easy. Leave your name with the girl at the desk. Have you explained all this to the cops?"

"No."

"Why not?"

I thought it unnecessary to tell her about the fifty grand. "Because they like Orrie and they've got him, and we have no evidence. Not one little scrap. The reason I'm telling you, we thought you might be willing to help. You do want the man that murdered her to get it, don't you?"

"You're damn right I do."

"Then you might help. You could write Fleming a letter, calling him Thales, and telling him you want the five grand he got from X – or most of it. Tell him that Isabel told you everything, maybe even hint that you think he killed her and you know why. Of course he would have to see you, and also, if he killed Isabel, he would have to kill you, and it would be a cinch for us to arrange to have evidence of that. So we'd have him. Happy ending."

She laughed, and she was such a good laugher that I caught it and joined in. When she had it under control she said, "You're not married, are you?"

I shook my head. "Nope."

"Never?"

"Nope. I've asked at least a thousand."

"I'll bet. I was once, and what a year that was. Do you know what I'm going to do when you leave?"

"Nope."

"I'm going to stand at the window and look out, and think it's a damn shame that it simply won't work. Anyway, if I'm going to get killed, all you'd get out of it would be a trip to the cemetery. This letter. Exactly what do I say?"

I waved a hand. "Forget it. A gag is for a laugh, and I got it."

"Nuts." She aimed a finger at me. "Listen, you. ZYXWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA. You came to deal me in. Don't spoil it with a phony shuffle. Ten to one, twenty to one, you and Nero Wolfe wrote it out and you've got it in your pocket. Let's see it."