Might as Well Be Dead

“No question about it. Johnny wasn’t perfect, but he came close to it about money. That hundred bucks was yours, and for him that was that.” I sat down. “I’m glad to hear that it won’t be difficult to find out who got it. I was afraid it might be.”

“I think not-at least not to reach an assumption worth testing. Let us suppose it was you instead of Johnny. Having seen Mrs. Arkoff, you arrive at the Irwins’ apartment and find them about ready to leave, being detained by a necessary repair to Mrs. Irwin’s garment which is being made by the maid. Mostly they merely confirm what Mrs. Arkoff has already told you, but contribute one new detail: that the suggestion to invite Mrs. Molloy came originally from Mrs. Irwin. That is interesting, even provocative, and you want to pursue it, and try to, but by then the maid has the garment repaired and Mrs. Irwin puts it on, and they leave. You leave with them, of course, going down in the elevator with them, and they go off. There you are. You have seen three of them and have only one more on your list, it’s a little after nine o’clock, and there is an hour to pass before you can see Mr. Arkoff. What do you do?”

“Nothing to it. As soon as the Irwins are out of sight I go back upstairs and see the maid.”

“Would Johnny?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then he did. Worth testing, surely.”

“Yeah, it stings, all right. If that maid took your hundred bucks she’ll take more.” I looked at my wrist. “Ten minutes to eleven. Shall I give her a whirl now?”

“I think not. Mr. and Mrs. Irwin might be there.”

“I can phone and find out.”

“Do so.”

I got the number from the book and dialed it, and after four whirrs a female voice told me hello.

I sent my voice through my nose. “May I speak to Mrs. Irwin, please?”

“This is Mrs. Irwin. Who is this?”

I cradled it, gently, not to be rude, and turned. “Mrs. Irwin answered. I guess it will have to wait until morning. I’ll call Mrs. Molloy first and get the maid’s name. She probably knows it.”

Wolfe nodded. “It will be ticklish, and it must not be botched.”

“Right. I’ll bring her here and take her to the basement and hold matches to her toes. I have a remark. Your asking Cramer for a list of the contents of Johnny’s pockets, that was only par for a genius, but your bumping him off the trail by pretending you wanted your money back-I couldn’t have done it better myself. Satisfactory. I hope I’m not flattering you.”

“Not likely,” he grumbled, and picked up his book.

Chapter 13