Prisoner's Base

He frowned at her. "As you see, we're severely circumscribed. Motive requires no scrutiny; it blares and brandishes. Means is no problem-a piece of cord two feet long. Opportunity offers no path to a conclusion, since the murders may well have been vicarious, with enough at stake to make them worth planning and paying for. How can I harass you or devise a trap? The best I can do is induce you to talk, and hope for something. How are Mr. Helmar and Mr. Brucker getting along with Miss O'Neil?"

That started a minor commotion. Brucker, who had been letting himself sprawl some, jerked up straight. Pitkin emitted a sound that seemed to be the start of a giggle, but he stopped it. Helmar's jaw fell and then closed and clamped.

Miss Duday kept her composure. "I really don't know," she said. "Of course this has changed the situation-temporarily, at least."

"You told Mr. Goodwin that as soon as Miss Eads was in control Miss O'Neil would lose her job."

"Did I? Well, now she won't."

"You also told Mr. Goodwin that she was playing Mr. Helmar and Mr. Brucker against each other. What was the connection between that fact and the murder of Miss Eads?"

"None that I know of."

"No, that won't do." Wolfe was crisp. "Mr. Goodwin said he was there to investigate the murder, and you volunteered that information. You are much too intelligent to blatter irrelevancies. What was the connection?"

She smiled, a thin tight smile. "Goodness, am I cornered? Do you suppose in some dark crevice of my mind there was the thought that I wouldn't dream of thinking either of those men capable of murdering for profit, but in their blind passion for that creature-there was no telling? And I blurted it out to Mr. Goodwin that day? Am I like that?"

"I couldn't say." Wolfe skipped it. "When and where did you last see Miss Eads?"

"One week ago today. Last Thursday afternoon, at the office."

"What office?"

"The Softdown office at One ninety-two Collins Street."

"What happened, and what was said? Tell me about it."