The Mother Hunt (Rex Stout Library)

Saul nodded. Of course it's still perhaps. There's a plane from Idlewild for Tampa at three-twenty-five a.m.

Wolfe made a face. I suppose so. He hates airplanes. I suggested getting the Heron and driving Saul to Idlewild, but Wolfe said no, I was to be at Washington Square at ten in the morning. He knows how I yawn when I'm short on sleep.

Saul phoned four times from Florida. Wednesday afternoon he reported that 1424 Sunset Drive was the private residence of Mr. and Mrs. Arthur P. Jordan, and Carol Mardus had been a guest there last fall and winter. Late Wednesday evening he reported that Carol Mardus had been obviously pregnant in November and December. Thursday noon he reported that she been taken to the Sarasota General Hospital on January 16, had been admitted under the name of Clara Waldron, and had given birth to a boy baby that night. At twenty minutes past ten Thursday evening he reported that he was at Tampa International Airport, that Clara Waldron, with baby, had taken a plane there for New York on February 5, and that he was doing likewise in three hours.

Wolfe and I hung up. The mother hunt was over. Forty-five days.

He eyed me. How much of that woman's money have we spent?

Around fourteen grand.

Pfui. Tell Fred and Orrie they're no longer needed. And Miss Corbett. Tell Mrs. Valdon she can return to the beach. Return the cameras.

Yes, sir.

Confound it! It could be so simple! But for that woman.

The dead one. Yeah.

But she gave you a drink of water.

Nuts. If we emptied the bag for Cramer now, including the message, the only question would be should we demand separate trials. Not only you and me, also the client. I could ring Parker and ask him which is worse, withholding evidence or conspiring to obstruct justice.

He tightened his lips and took a deep breath, and another one. Have you a suggestion?