Not Quite Dead Enough (The Rex Stout Library)

“Then it wasn’t an accident,” Wolfe said placidly. “Suicide remains, and so does- By the way, what about that woman in his anteroom? That female in uniform. Where was she?”

“Not there. Out to lunch.”

“Indeed.” Wolfe’s brows went up. “At four o’clock?”

“So she told Tinkham. He spoke with her when she returned. She’s waiting outside now. I sent for her.”

“Get her in here. And may I-?”

“Certainly.” Fife lifted his phone and spoke in it.

In a moment the door opened and Sergeant Bruce entered. She came in three steps, getting the three of us at a glance, stopped with her heels together, and snapped a salute. She appeared to be quite herself, only extremely solemn. She advanced when she was told to.

“This is Nero Wolfe,” Fife said. “He’ll ask you some questions, and you’ll answer as from me.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Sit down,” Wolfe told her. “Archie, if you’ll move that chair around? Excuse me, General, if I violate regulations, a major waiting on a sergeant, but I find it impossible to regard a woman as a soldier and don’t intend to try.” He looked at her. “Miss Bruce. That’s your name?”

“Yes, sir. Dorothy Bruce.”

“You were at lunch when that thing exploded?”

“Yes, sir.” Her voice was as clear and composed as it had been when she told me she was in my eye.

“Is that your usual lunch hour? Four o’clock?”

“No, sir. Shall I explain?”

“Please. With a minimum of sirs. I am not a field marshal in disguise. Go ahead.”

“Yes, sir. I beg your pardon, that was automatic. I have no usual lunch hour. At Colonel Ryder’s request, I mean his order, I have been going to lunch whenever he did, so I would be on duty when he was in his office. Today he didn’t go to lunch-that is, I don’t think he did-at least he didn’t come out through the anteroom and let me know he was going, as he always had done. When he called me in at a quarter to four to give me some instructions, he asked if I had had lunch and said he had forgotten about it, and told me to go then. I went down to the corner drugstore and had a sandwich and coffee. I got back at twenty past four.”

Wolfe’s half-closed eyes never left her face. “The corner drugstore?” he inquired mildly. “Didn’t you hear the explosion or see any excitement?”

“No, sir. The drugstore is a block and a half away, around on Mitchell Street.”

“You say Colonel Ryder didn’t go to lunch? Was he constantly in his office right through to a quarter to four?”