The Doorbell Rang (The Rex Stout Library)

"You had been in it?"

She nodded. "A few times. Three or four times. For a drink before we went to dinner." She picked up her cup, and her hand was steady. I said her coffee was cold and offered to pour her some hot, but she said it was all right and drank. Wolfe poured himself some and took a sip.

"When and how," he asked her, "did you learn that Mr Althaus had been killed?"

"In the morning. I don't work on Saturday and I sleep late. Irene, the cleaning woman, came and banged on my door. It was after nine o'clock."

"Then it was you who phoned the police?"

"Yes."

"Did you tell them of seeing the three men leave the house?"

"Yes."

"Did you tell them that you thought they were FBI men?"

"No. That hadn't-it was-I guess I was in shock. I had never seen a dead body before-except in a coffin."

"When did you tell Mrs Bruner that you thought they were FBI men?"

Her lips moved, a moment of hesitation. "On Monday."

"Why did you think they were FBI men?"

"They looked like it. They looked young, and-well, sort of athletic, and the way they walked."

"You said there were no peculiarities."

"I know I did. It wasn't-I wouldn't call it peculiarities." She bit her lip. "I knew you would ask me this. I think I ought to admit-I think the main reason I told her that was because I knew how she felt about the FBI, I had heard her talking about that book, and I thought she would like-I mean, that would agree with how she felt about them. I don't like to admit this, Mr Wolfe, of course I don't. I know how it sounds. I hope you won't tell Mrs Bruner."

"I'll tell her only if it suits a purpose." Wolfe picked up his cup, drank, put the cup down, and looked at me. "Archie?"

"Maybe one or two little points." I looked at her, and she looked back. The hazel eyes seemed darker when they were straight at you. "Of course," I said, "the cops have asked you about the last time you spoke with Althaus. When was it?"

"Three days before-before that Friday. Tuesday morning, in the hall, just a minute or two. Just by accident."

"Did he tell you he was doing a piece on the FBI?"

"No. He never talked to me about his work."

"When was the last time you were with him-for dinner, for anything?"

"I'm not sure about the date. It was about a month before, some day in October. We had dinner together."

"At a restaurant?"

"Yes. Jerry's Joint."

"Have you ever met Miss Marian Hinckley?"

"Hinckley? No."

"Or a man named Vincent Yarmack?"

"No."

"Or one named Timothy Quayle?"

"No."

"Did Althaus ever mention any of those names?"