Death of a Doxy (Crime Line)

"Okay. On the hotel stationery. Dear Mr. Fleming. As you know, I was Isabel's closest friend, and we told each other everything. She told me all about Milton Thales, and how you got that five thousand dollars, and how she felt about it. She also told me she was going to tell her sister, and that she would tell you first that she was going to tell her. That didn't surprise me, I knew her so well. But I wonder if that had anything to do with what happened to her, and I would like to know. One thing, considering how you got that five thousand dollars, I don't think you should keep it. I think you should give it to me and I'll give it to some charity. I expect to hear from you soon. I live at this hotel. Sincerely yours. Of course the wording can be changed, as long as the points are covered."

She was frowning. "That's a lot of lies for one short letter."

"Only one lie, that she told you. The fact is, I told you. All the rest is true. You do wonder if that had anything to do with what happened to her, and you would like to know. You're sticking your neck out to find out."

"I'm sticking my neck out because you smooth-tongued me into it. I never thought -"

"Whoa. Back up. I couldn't possibly smooth-tongue you into doing something you didn't want to do. Do you want to do it?"

"Oh, damn you, yes." She sat up, and the orchid fell out of the V. "Go in the other room and I'll come in ten minutes. I can't write in bed."

I timed her. It was twenty-two minutes. She wasn't perfect.

Chapter 12

Back in 1958, eight years back, a man named Simon Jacobs should not have been stabbed to death and his body dragged behind a bush in Van Cortlandt Park, but he was, and Nero Wolfe and I would never forget it. We should have known it might happen and taken steps, and we hadn't. Once is enough for that kind of goof, which accounts for the fact that I did not arrive at the Maidstone Hotel at ten o'clock Saturday morning. I arrived at nine-thirty. Mail deliveries in New York are terrible, but there was one chance in a billion that the postman would get to 2938 Humboldt Avenue extra early that one day, and the subway is rapid transit.