Not Quite Dead Enough (The Rex Stout Library)

“And you said,” she retorted crushingly, “that you came there just to see Ann, and here you are. Didn’t I tell you, Army or police, it’s all the same? Here you are together, and what do you do about anything? In sixty years you haven’t moved a finger to stop the hawks entering the city. What was the sense of my telling you that that crazy old woman killed my mother? What would you have done about it? How did I know she was going to kill Ann too? I only came with her because-”

“Madam!” Wolfe said in a tone that stopped her. “If you yourself are sane, you can answer a question. Did your mother tell Mrs. Chack to leave the house?”

“Yes. It was her house-”

“Did she stop paying Leon Furey for killing hawks and tell him to leave also?”

“Yes. After she got hurt-”

“Did she tell Roy Douglas she was going to tear down his pigeon loft?”

“Yes. She couldn’t bear-”

“Did she quit giving you money and forbid you to go to the Square?”

“Yes. But I didn’t-”

“Then, madam, your diagnosis is faulty. Mrs. Chack’s mind retains all those details with accuracy, which is a creditable performance at her age. I wouldn’t advise you-”

The phone buzzed and Cramer took it. He listened briefly, said to wait, and spoke to Wolfe, “I’m through if you are.” Wolfe nodded, and Cramer told the phone, “Come and escort the ladies out and then bring him in.”

Escorting the ladies out wasn’t so simple. They weren’t through, whether Wolfe and Cramer were or not. Finally Cramer had to leave his desk to get them herded through the door, and by the time he got back to his chair in came a city employee with another visitor.

Chapter 11

Leon Furey wasn’t liking himself as well as he had been the last time I saw him. As he walked in, looked around at us, and dropped into a chair by invitation, he was not jaunty. It was doubtful if he had been in his pajamas until noon that day, because his clothes looked as if he had not taken them off at all. Sizing him up as he sat there, with lumps under his bloodshot eyes and a two-day growth of beard, I saw nothing inconsistent with the theory that he had tied that scarf around Ann Amory’s throat, except the alibi, and that didn’t show.

“You want to say something?” Cramer asked.