Too Many Cooks

“Only an assumption.” Wolfe was mild and inoffensive. “After all, she is a participant in this tragedy, while I am merely a bystander—”

“Participant?” Tolman was frowning. “Do you mean she had a hand in it? You didn’t say that before.”

“Nor do I say it now. I merely mean, it was her husband who was murdered, and she seems to have had, if not premonition, at least apprehension. You know more about it than I do, since you have questioned her. She informed you, I presume, that her husband told her that at noon yesterday, in the kitchen of this place, he found arsenic in a sugar shaker which was intended for him; and that without her husbands knowledge or consent she came to ask my assistance in guarding him from injury and I refused it.”

“Why did you refuse it?”

“Because of my incompetence for the task. As I told her, I am not a food taster or a body guard.” Wolfe stirred a little; he was boiling. “May I offer advice, Mr. Tolman? Don’t waste your energy on me. I haven’t the faintest idea who killed Mr. Laszio, or why. It may be that you have heard of me; I don’t know; if so, you have perhaps got the impression that when I am engaged on a case I am capable of sinuosities, though you wouldn’t think it to look at me. But I am not engaged on this case, I haven’t the slightest interest in it, I know nothing whatever about it, and you are as apt to receive pertinent information from the man in the moon as you are from me. My connection with it is threefold. First, I happened to be here; that is merely my personal misfortune. Second, I discovered Mr. Laszio’s body; as I told you, I was curious as to whether he was childishly keeping secret surveillance over the table, and I looked behind the screen. Third, Mrs. Laszio told me someone was trying to poison her husband and asked me to prevent it; you have that fact; if there is a place for that piece in your puzzle, fit it in. You have, gentlemen, my sympathy and my best wishes.”

Tolman, who after all wasn’t much more than a kid, twisted his head to get a look at the sheriff, who was slowly scratching his cheek with his middle finger. Pettigrew looked back at him and finally turned to Wolfe:

“Look, mister, you’ve got us wrong I think. We’re not aiming to make you any trouble or any inconvenience. We don’t regard you as one of that bunch that if they knew anything they wouldn’t tell us if they could help it. But you say maybe we’ve heard of you. That’s right. We’ve heard of you. After all, you was around with this bunch all day talking with ’em. You know? I don’t know what Tolman here thinks, but it’s my opinion it wouldn’t hurt any to tell you what we’ve found out and get your slant on it. Since you say you’ve got no interest in it that might conflict. All right, Barry?”

Wolfe said, “You’d be wasting your time. I’m not a wizard. When I get results, I get them by hard work, and this isn’t my case and I’m not working on it.”

I covered a grin. Tolman put in, “The sooner this thing is cleaned up, the better for everybody. You realize that. If the sheriff—”

Wolfe said brusquely, “Very well. To-morrow.”

“It’s already to-morrow. God knows how late you’ll sleep in the morning, but I won’t. There’s one thing in particular I want to ask you. You told me that the only one of these people you know at all well is Vukcic. Mrs. Laszio told me about her being married to Vukcic and getting divorced from him some years ago to marry Laszio. Could you tell me how Vukcic has been feeling about that?”

“No. Mrs. Laszio seems to have been quite informative.”

“Well, it was her husband that got killed. Why? Have you got anything against her? That’s the second dig you’ve taken at her.”

“Certainly I have something against her. I don’t like women asking me to protect their husbands. It is beneath the dignity of a man to rely, either for safety or salvation, on the interference of a woman. Pfui!”

Of course Wolfe wasn’t in love. I hoped Tolman realized that. He said: