If Death Ever Slept

“Not at all,” Wolfe said. He had swiveled to face them and wasn’t trying to look or sound cordial. “My reason has ceased to function. It has been swamped in a deluge of circumstance. My phone call, to tell you that I have information for you, was dictated not by reason but by misfortune. I am sunk and I am sour. I just returned a retainer of ten thousand dollars to a client. Otis Jarrell. I have no client.”

You might have expected Cramer’s keen gray eyes to show a gleam of glee, but they didn’t. He would swallow anything that Wolfe offered only after sending it to the laboratory for the works. “That’s too bad,” he rumbled. “Bad for you but good for me. I can always use information. About Eber and Brigham, you said.”

Wolfe nodded. “I’ve had it for some time, but it was only today, a few hours ago, that I was forced to acknowledge the obligation to disclose it. It concerns an event that occurred at Mr. Jarrell’s home last Wednesday, witnessed by Mr. Goodwin, who reported it to me. Before I tell you about it I need answers to a question or two. I understand that you learned from Mr. Jarrell that he had hired me for a job, and that it was on that job that Mr. Goodwin went there as his secretary under another name. I also understand that he declines to tell you what the job was, on the ground that it was personal and confidential and has no relation to your inquiry; and that the police commissioner and the district attorney have accepted his position. That you have been obliged to concur is obvious, since you haven’t been pestering Mr. Goodwin and me. Is that correct?”

“It’s correct that I haven’t been pestering you. The rest, what you understand, I can’t help what you understand.”

“But you don’t challenge it. I understand that too. I only wanted to make it clear why I intend to tell you nothing about the job Mr. Jarrell hired me for, though he is no longer my client. I assume that the police commissioner and the district attorney wouldn’t want me to, and I don’t care to offend them. Another question, before I- Yes, Mr. Stebbins?”

Purley hadn’t said a word. He had merely snarled a little. He set his jaw.

Wolfe resumed to Cramer. “Another question. It’s possible that my piece of information is bootless because your attention is elsewhere. If so, I prefer not to disclose it. Have you arrested anyone for either murder?”

“No.”

“Have you passable grounds for suspicion of anyone outside of the Jarrell family?”

“No.”