The Missing Heiress

Chapter 10

The next night, Eric Mason arrived at the brownstone at eight thirty-five. “You are even earlier than before,” I told him as I swung open the front door and he entered.

“That is by design,” he responded as I took his coat and hung it up. “I would like to speak to you and Mr. Wolfe without Lily Rowan being present.”

I didn’t question his reason as I walked him down the hall. Wolfe looked up from his book when we entered the office and then glanced at the clock on the wall with a questioning expression.

“I know that I am early, Mr. Wolfe,” Mason said as I steered him to one of the yellow chairs. “The reason is that I want you to know I’m perfectly comfortable with Lily Rowan not paying any of the fee for your search for Maureen. I realize both of you have a special relationship with Lily, and I know her well enough to recognize that she is an individual of sterling character. I am happy to be partnering with her.”

“We are in agreement in our appraisal of Miss Rowan,” Wolfe said, drinking beer and showing no irritation at having been interrupted in his reading. “She has been a welcome visitor in this house for many years. Would you like something to drink?”

Mason grinned and nodded as I asked, “The usual?”

Just as our guest was settled with a scotch, the doorbell rang again, and I went to admit Lily. “Mr. Mason already is here,” I told her, “but I have reserved the red leather chair for you as befits your station.”

“How very gallant,” she said as I took her coat and we went to the office. As Lily clicked in, garbed in stylish pumps and a robin’s-egg blue dress, Mason snapped to his feet like an enlisted man at the arrival of a full-bird colonel. Wolfe remained seated as is his wont when visitors of either gender enter his haven.

After Lily got seated at the end of his desk and crossed curvaceous legs, Wolfe asked if she wanted something to drink.

“Would it be gauche to ask for a sherry this long after I have had dinner?”

“Not in this house,” Wolfe responded as I went to the cart and found the bottle, pouring a dram of the requested nectar into the proper glass. As I set it down on the small table next to Lily, I got one of those smiles that invariably accelerates my heart rate.

Enough from me. It was time for Wolfe to call the meeting to order.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” he said. “One advantage of having both of you in this venture is that you come from different perspectives as far as our missing woman is concerned. Before we continue, Mr. Mason, you need to know what we have learned about Miss Carr’s recent financial activity.” Wolfe went on to summarize her withdrawal of funds from the bank.

“So, at least fifty grand?” Mason said, exhaling a whistle. “Any idea what the reason is?”

“None at the moment, sir. Let me ask each of you: Does Miss Carr travel frequently, and if so, what are her destinations?”

Lily responded first. “She has always liked the Caribbean — Puerto Rico, Jamaica, the Virgin Islands, Aruba. I don’t think there is any one resort she’s particularly fond of. She says she likes to try new places down there. Although, come to think of it, I believe that she has stayed in Old San Juan more than once.”

“We have never traveled together, either abroad or in the US,” Mason put in, “but she has stayed on several occasions at my summer place in the Hamptons, which she likes. And as for trips, she seems partial to Italy, especially the lakes, Como and the others.”

“Who wouldn’t be?” Lily laughed.

“Has Miss Carr traveled with friends?” Wolfe asked. “And has she ever stayed in facilities owned by acquaintances?”

“She has gone to the islands on occasion with two or three of the women who are in our social group, but no one of them owns a resort home down there.”

Wolfe shifted to Mason. “To your knowledge, does she have friends living in the Italian lake country?”

“If she does, she has never mentioned it to me, and I believe she would have.”

“Let us move on to Maureen Carr’s brother,” Wolfe said. “I regret to report that we have learned very little about the man’s activities. Miss Rowan already has been given what facts have been unearthed, and, Mr. Mason, I will let Archie tell you what he and our other operatives have found.”

I took Mason through my meeting with Alf, Everett Carr’s fellow roomer at the Sloane YMCA, as well as our discoveries that Carr was obsessed with betting on the horses and that he was a lousy handicapper.

“A millionaire living at the Y and dressing like a bum?” Mason said. “No wonder Maureen doesn’t talk about him.”

“We’re assuming that he’s still a millionaire,” I countered, “although the way he seems to be throwing away money on the ponies, his pot of gold may very well have dwindled.”

“Have you ever met Everett?” Mason asked Lily.

“No, and Maureen has barely mentioned him to me. I don’t know whether she’s ashamed of him, or if she simply doesn’t know enough about him and what he’s doing to have anything to say.”

Mason turned to Wolfe. “What are your thoughts?”

“The man clearly has no interest in familial relations or in having anything that resembles a conventional life. We know from this Alf individual and from bookmakers that he has been known to carry large sums on his person, which could make him a robbery target. Also, one who consorts with professional gamblers, that is, bookies, runs the constant risk of hostility.”

“You mean if he were to welsh on a bet, for example?” Mason posed.

Wolfe shrugged. “Perhaps. I am not familiar with the niceties of the wagerer, although through the years, Mr. Goodwin and I have run into numerous cases in which gambling debts and other disputes over money have escalated into violence, sometimes with fatal results.”

“So you are suggesting that Carr’s disappearance may be because of some sort of wager that went bad?”

“I am suggesting nothing, sir, only pointing out the perils associated with gambling. Miss Rowan, do you possess recent photographs of Maureen Carr and her brother?”

“I don’t, but I am sure I can get one of Maureen, either from her apartment or from one of the organizations where she is a board member. As for Everett, that’s another story altogether. There’s a slim chance I might find one at Maureen’s apartment. Archie, do you remember if there were photos of either of them when we were at her place?”

“The only shot I remember seeing there was one of her taken years ago, with a middle-aged couple I assume were her parents.”

“Why this interest in photographs?” Mason asked.

Wolfe readjusted his bulk. “In addition to Archie, three other operatives in my employ are hunting for Miss Carr and her brother, and each of them needs to be carrying photographs of her as they continue their search.”

“I can go to Maureen’s apartment tomorrow and hunt for photos of her, and I also will see if I can locate one through one of the agencies where she has been active,” Lily said.

“What else should we be doing now?” Mason snapped, pounding a fist into an open palm, a man of action frustrated.

“At present, nothing,” Wolfe responded evenly. “I know we all wish to be active, but haste often leads to unwise moves.”

The next morning, I was in the office with coffee after breakfast when Lily telephoned. “I got a very good picture of Maureen from Emily Ferris at the orphanage. It’s an excellent likeness, taken for use in their current annual report. I had already gone in Maureen’s apartment, getting the key from Sofia, who this time did not seem interested in accompanying me. The only shots of Maureen that I found there were years old. And, not surprising, I found no photos of Everett.”

“If you will drop by and let me have the pic, I’ll have copies made. That’s not really a problem, taking a photo of a photo.”

The picture Lily gave me later that morning was indeed an excellent likeness of the woman I had met only three times. But I have a good eye for faces, particularly female ones, and I was pleased with what we had. It looked like the shot had been taken within the last year or so. I walked the three blocks to Mel’s Camera Shop, which we’ve used for years for our photographic needs.

“Nice-looking skirt,” Mel remarked as he looked at the glossy print that I handed him. “I wouldn’t mind knowing this one, Archie. How fast do you need these?”

“As quickly as you can do it. Feel free to bill me double if that helps to speed things up.”

Mel waved my comment away. “Nah, you know that we don’t pull that kind of stuff here, Archie. You’ve been a good customer for a long time,” he said. “Right now, I’m working on a couple of jobs that came in ahead of you, but I can have these ready in... let’s see... two hours. That okay with you?”

“Plenty okay,” I told Mel, and on my return later that afternoon, I got what I needed from him. When Wolfe came down from the plant rooms at six and rang for beer, I had placed one of the prints on his desk blotter. He picked it up, studied it for several seconds, and said, “Adequate.”

“I’m glad that you think so. As you know, I have met the woman, and this is her, all right.”

Wolfe told me to make sure Saul, Fred, and Orrie each got several copies of the photos and then said, “I would like to see the woman who cleans Miss Carr’s home. I believe her name is Sofia. Tonight at nine would be preferable.”

I called Lily. “This is my day to discuss business with you. Mr. Wolfe wants to talk to Sofia, in person. Preferably today, at nine p.m.”

“I can ask her, although I’m not sure how she will react. She’s fairly shy.”

“It didn’t seem to overly bother her to meet me, did it?”

“No, but you were with me at the time, which made you legitimate, so to speak.”

“I have always wanted to be legitimate. Well, I am sure you can persuade Sofia that Nero Wolfe is not some two-headed monster who eats young women for dinner.”

“You have such a colorful way of putting things, which must be why I am drawn to you. I will call her and report back.”

Next, I phoned our “three musketeers,” saying their assignments now extended beyond the search for Everett to include his sister, and that we had pictures of her for them.

“All well and good, Archie, but where are we supposed to be looking for this Maureen Carr?” Orrie asked.

“If the lady has fled town within the last two to three weeks, which is a strong possibility, obvious places to start are Grand Central and Penn stations, the bus terminal, the ferries, LaGuardia, and the North River Piers, where the ocean liners berth. I’m sure Saul can put together a program. Maureen is a good-looking creature, as you will see when you get photographs, and people — particularly men — have an unerring way of remembering such women.”

Orrie grumbled about looking for a needle in a haystack, but his complaint was half-hearted, and he said he would stop by for his photographs.

The ever-dependable Lily telephoned just as I hung up with Orrie. “I talked to Sofia, and as I predicted, she’s chary about meeting Nero Wolfe.”

“Chary — now that’s Wolfe-type word. Mark me down as impressed.”

“You know very well that I have a college degree, and my major was English. I do know my way around a dictionary and a thesaurus.”

“Of course you do, I’ve never doubted it. But back to Sofia: Did you do some arm-twisting?”

“I felt I might have to,” Lily said. “I wore her down, though, and she said she would come to the brownstone, but only on the condition that I would accompany her.”

“That seems like a reasonable request, and I know Wolfe won’t mind. After all, he is moderately comfortable with you.”

“I am flattered, knowing as I do his overall attitude about females in his sanctum sanctorum.”

“Sanctum sanctorum — there you go again, showing off your education.”

“Just reminding you that I am a force to be reckoned with.”

“Once again, I have never doubted it. Just don’t try to show off in front of Nero Wolfe, or he will brand you a poseur.”

“On that note, I will take my leave and will see you and your boss tonight with Sofia in tow.”