Not Quite Dead Enough (The Rex Stout Library)

Shattuck remonstrated. “Good heavens, General, I know very well you weren’t born yesterday. And ordinarily any anonymous letter I receive gets tossed in the wastebasket. But I thought you ought to know about it-and then the one specific thing in it-about Cross. Of course that was investigated?”

“It was. By the police.”

“And,” Shattuck insisted, “by you?” Then he added hastily, “I think that’s a proper question. Unofficially. Since a police investigation would be somewhat ineffectual unless they were told exactly what Cross was doing and were given the names of those who were-well-aware of it. I don’t suppose you felt free to disclose that to the police?”

Fife said slowly, choosing his words again, “We co-operate with the police to the limit of discretion. As for your first question, proper or not, it is no military secret that Nero Wolfe has worked with us on various matters as a civilian consultant-since it has been published in newspapers. Do you regard Wolfe as a competent investigator?”

Shattuck smiled. “I’m a politician. You’re not apt to find me in a minority of one.”

“Well, he’s investigating Cross’s death. For us. If you find out who wrote you that letter, tell him that. That ought to satisfy him.”

“It satisfies me,” Shattuck declared. “I wonder if you’d mind-could I ask Mr. Wolfe a couple of questions?”

“Certainly. If he wants to answer them. I can’t order him to. He’s not in the Army.”

Wolfe grunted. He was displaying all the signs, long familiar to me, of impatience, annoyance, discomfort, and an intense desire to get back home where chairs had been built to specifications to fit the case, and the beer was cold. He snapped:

“Mr. Shattuck. Perhaps I can make your questions unnecessary. Whether they come from idle curiosity, or are in fact sparks from the flame of your burning patriotism, Captain Cross was murdered. Does that answer them?”

Silence. Nobody made a sound. The look that General Fife flashed at Colonel Ryder met one coming back at him, and they both held. Colonel Tinkham’s finger tip made contact with his mustache. Lieutenant Lawson stared at Wolfe, frowning. Shattuck’s eyes, narrowed with a gleam in them, went from face to face.

Lieutenant Lawson said, “Oh, lord.”

Chapter 2