Might as Well Be Dead

“I don’t think-” She considered it. “I don’t think I’d want to ask him to do this. His wife wouldn’t like it. But I wouldn’t mind asking Pat Degan. He might say no, but I could ask him.”

“Who is he?”

“Patrick A. Degan. He’s the head of the Mechanics Alliance Welfare Association. His office isn’t far from here, on Thirty-ninth Street. I could call him now.”

“How long have you known him?”

“Three years, since I was married. He was a friend of my husband’s, but he always-I mean, he really is my friend, I’m sure he is. Shall I call him? What will I say?”

“Tell him you wish to request a favor of him, and ask him to come here. Now, if possible. If he asks questions tell him you would rather not discuss it on the phone. And I venture a suggestion, in case he comes and consents to act. Legal services will be required, and he may want to name the lawyer to be engaged to perform them. I urge you not to agree. From a legal standpoint it will be your interests the lawyer will represent, whether you wish to renounce them or not, and it will be proper and desirable for you to choose him.”

“Why can’t I choose the lawyer he names?”

“Because I wouldn’t trust him. Because I suspect Mr. Degan of having killed your husband.”

She goggled at him. “You suspect Pat Degan? You never heard of him until just now!”

Wolfe nodded. “I made it sensational. Purposely. I suspect each and all of your husband’s associates, as I must until I have reason to discriminate, and Mr. Degan is one of them. I advise you not to let him name the lawyer. If you are at a loss to choose one, I suggest Nathaniel Parker, who will be here shortly. I have dealt with him many years, and I recommend him without reservation. As for trusting me, either you believe that I am earnestly seeking an end you desire or it is folly for you to be here at all.”

It was a good pitch, but it didn’t do the job-not completely. She looked at me, looking the question instead of asking it.

I gave her a strictly professional smile. “Parker is as good as they come, Mrs. Molloy.”

“All right, then.” She arose. “May I use the phone?”

Chapter 9