Plot It Yourself

He glanced at Wolfe, and Wolfe spoke. “It’s here in a drawer of my desk. I have read it. In plot and characters and action it is identical with the story, ‘Opportunity Knocks,’ by Alice Porter, the manuscript of which was found in a file in the office of the Victory Press. But that one, the one found in the file, was written in Alice Porter’s natural style, the style of her published book, The Moth That Ate Peanuts, whereas this one, the one found by Mr Panzer in Miss Porter’s house, was written in her assumed style, the one she had used for the three stories on which the previous claims had been based. Call them A and B. The obvious inference is that in writing the story that was to be the basis for her claim against Amy Wynn she had tried both styles, A and B, and had decided, for whatever reason, to use the one in style B. What else did you find, Saul?”

Saul’s eyes were again on Alice Porter. “That was all in the house,” he said. “But she had gone to New York with Mr Goodwin in his car, so her car was there, and I searched it. Under the front seat, wrapped in newspaper, I found a knife, a kitchen knife with a black handle. Its blade is seven inches long and an inch wide. I have delivered it to Mr Wolfe. If he has examined it with-”

He sprang forward. Alice Porter had bounced out of her chair and dived for Amy Wynn, her arms stretched and her fingers curved to claws. I was right there, so I had her right arm half a second before Saul got her left one, but she had moved so fast that the fingernails of her left hand got to Amy Wynn’s face before we jerked her back. Philip Harvey, on Amy Wynn’s right, had lunged forward to intervene, and Reuben Imhof, back of Amy Wynn, was on his feet, bending over her. Alice Porter was trying to wriggle loose, but Saul and I had her back against Wolfe’s desk, and she gave it up and started yapping. She glared at Amy Wynn and yapped, “You dirty sneak, you double-crosser, you dirty sneak, you double-”

“Turn her around,” Wolfe snapped. Saul and I obeyed. He eyed her. “Are you demented?” he demanded.

No answer. She was panting. “Why assault Miss Wynn?” he demanded. “She didn’t corner you. I did.”

She spoke. “I’m not cornered. Tell them to let go of me.”

“Will you control yourself?”

“Yes.”