Bullet for One

XV

“You will be glad to know,” I told Wolfe late that afternoon, “that none of these bills we are sending to our clients will have to be addressed care of the county jail. That would be embarrassing.”

It was a little after six, and he was down from the plant rooms and had beer in front of him. I was at my typewriter, making out the bills.

“Broadyke,” I went on, “claims that he merely bought designs that were offered him, not knowing where they came from, and he can probably make it stick. Dorothy has agreed on a settlement with Pohl and will press no charge. As for Dorothy, it’s hers now anyway, as you said, so what the hell. And Safford and Audrey can’t be prosecuted just for going to ride in the park, even if they omitted it in their statements just to avoid complications. By the way, if you wonder why they allocated fifteen per cent of our fee to a stable hand, he is not a stable hand. He owns that riding academy, by gum, so Audrey hasn’t sold out cheap at all — anything but. They’ll probably be married on horseback.”

Wolfe grunted. “That won’t improve their chances any.”

“You’re prejudiced about marriage,” I reproached him. “I may try it myself someday. Look at Saul, staked down like a tent but absolutely happy. Speaking of Saul, why did you waste money having him and Orrie phoning and calling on New York tailors?”

“It wasn’t wasted,” Wolfe snapped. He can’t stand being accused of wasting money. “There was a slim chance that Mr. Talbott had been ass enough to have his costume made right here. The better chance, of course, was one of the cities he had recently visited, and the best of all was the one farthest away. So I telephoned Los Angeles first, and the Southwest Agency put five men on it. Also Saul and Orrie did other things. Saul learned, for instance, that Mr. Talbott’s room at the hotel was so situated that, by using stairs and a side entrance, he could easily have left and returned at that time of day without being recognized.” Wolfe snorted. “I doubt if Mr. Cramer even considered that. Why should he? He had taken that policeman’s word that he had seen Mr. Keyes on a horse, alive and well, at ten minutes past seven.”

“Good here,” I agreed. “But, assuming that it might have been the murderer, not Keyes, the cop had seen alive on a horse, why did you immediately pick Talbott for it?”

“I didn’t. The facts did. The masquerade, if there was one, could have helped no one but Mr. Talbott, since an alibi for that moment at that spot would have been useless for any of the others. Also the greeting exchanged at a distance with the policeman was an essential of the plan, and only Mr. Talbott, who often rode with Mr. Keyes, could have known there would be an opportunity for it.”

“Okay,” I conceded. “And you phoned Pohl to find out where Talbott had been recently. My God, Pohl actually helped on it! By the way, the Southwest Agency put an airmail stamp on the envelope containing their bill, so I guess they want a check. Their part of the charge is reasonable enough, but that tailor wants three hundred bucks for making a blue jacket and a pair of yellow breeches.”

“Which our clients will pay,” Wolfe said placidly. “It isn’t exorbitant. It was five o’clock in the afternoon there when they found him, and he had to be persuaded to spend the night at it, duplicating the previous order.”

“Okay,” I conceded again. “I admit it had to be a real duplicate, label and all, to panic that baby. He had nerve. He gets his six-o’clock call at his hotel, says to wake him again at seven-thirty, beats it to the street without being seen, puts on his act, and gets back to his room in time to take the seven-thirty call. And don’t forget he was committed right from the beginning, at half-past six, when he shot Keyes. From there on he had to make his schedule. Some nerve.”

I got up and handed the bills, including copies of the itemized expense account, across to Wolfe for his inspection.

“You know,” I remarked, sitting down again, “that was close to the top for a shock to the nervous system, up there this morning. When he got picked to double for Keyes that must have unsettled him a little to begin with. Then he gets ushered into the other room to change, and is handed a box that has on it ‘Cleever of Hollywood.’ He opens it, and there is an outfit exactly like the one he had had made, and had got well rid of somehow along with the gun, and there again is a label in the jacket, ‘Cleever of Hollywood.’ I’m surprised he was able to get it on and buttoned up, and walk out to the horse and climb into the saddle. He did have nerve. I suppose he intended just to keep on going, but as he rounded the bend there were the four mounted cops and flup went his nerves, and I don’t blame him. I admit I hadn’t the faintest idea, when I was phoning you that list of towns Pohl had given me — hey! Good God!”

Wolfe looked up. “What’s the matter?”

“Give me back that expense list! I left out the ninety-five cents for Pohl’s sandwiches!”