Some Buried Caesar

"Then why the devil do you ask it?" Nancy's voice came in, a husky protest, "Dad. I told you. It's foolish… it's all so foolish…"

Wolfe glanced at her, and back at her father, and shrugged. "That's the price, sir."

"For one man's guess."

"Oh, no. For the truth."

"Truth? You're prepared to prove it?"

"No. I sell it as an opinion. But I don't sell guesses."

"All right. I'll pay for it. What is it?"

"Well." Wolfe- pursed his lips and half shut his eyes. "Clyde Osgood did not enter the pasture voluntarily. He was unconscious, though still alive, when he was placed in the pasture. He was not gored, and therefore not killed, by the bull. He was murdered, probably by a man, possibly by two men, barely possibly by a woman or a man and a woman."

Nancy had straightened up with a gasp and then sat stiff. Osgood was gazing at Wolfe with his clamped jaw working a little from side to side.

"That…" He stopped and clamped his jaw again. "You say that's the truth? That my son was murdered?"

"Yes. Without a guaranty. I sell it as an opinion."

"How good is it? Where did you get it? Damn you, if you're playing me-"

"Mr. Osgood. Really. I'm not playing, I'm working. I assure you my opinion is a good one. Whether it's worth what you're paying for it depends on what you do with it."

Osgood got up, took two steps, and was looking down at his daughter. "You hear that. Nancy?" he demanded, as if he was accusing her of something. "You hear what he says? I knew it, I tell you, I knew it." He jerked his head up. "Good God… my son dead… murdered…" He whirled to Wolfe, opened his mouth and closed it again, and went back to his chair and let himself down.

Nancy looked at Wolfe and asked indignantly, "Why do you say that? How can you know… Clyde was murdered? Why do you say it as if… as if you could know…"

"Because I had arrived at that opinion. Miss Osgood."

"But how? Why?"

"Be quiet. Nancy." Osgood turned to Wolfe. "All right, I've got your opinion. Now I want to know what you base it on."

"My deductions. I was there last night, with a flashlight."

"Deductions from what?"

"From the facts." Wolfe wiggled a finger at him. "You may have them if you want them, but see here. You spoke of 'these damn fools here' and called them a pack of cowards. Referring to the legal authorities?"

"Yes. The District Attorney and the sheriff."

"Do you call them cowards because they hesitate to in- stitute an investigation of your son's death?"