The Missing Heiress

Chapter 17

“Well, that was one colossal waste of time,” I said to Wolfe when I got back to the office after seeing Hirsch and his tight-lipped sidekick — or bodyguard — Everts out.

“I must disagree, Archie. Mr. Hirsch is now on his guard, which I had intended. He is aware that we have been delving into his activities, and his discomfort upon learning this tonight was manifest.”

“I must have missed that discomfort.”

“He was not the same man when he left as when he entered. He appears to be staying at his New York residence for the present, and I would like to ensure that he is under surveillance — and that he is aware of it.”

“I gather you want tails put on him.”

“I do. The cost is immaterial, as I will absorb that expense if Mr. Mason deems it to be exorbitant.”

“Do you want Hirsch to be dogged around the clock?”

“Not quite. Let’s leave the man alone between, say, two a.m. and eight a.m. Also, I don’t want to use Saul, Fred, or Orrie on this project, as they may be needed elsewhere.”

“We have not called on Del Bascom and his operation lately. Of course, his operatives can’t hold a tail as well as Saul, but then, nobody can. They would still be my first choice.”

“Mine as well,” Wolfe agreed. “Telephone Mr. Bascom and discover what can be arranged. If he has men available, have them begin a surveillance of Mr. Hirsch’s New York residence, noting when he leaves and returns. The surveillance need not be covert.”

“Well, Archie Goodwin, of all people,” Bascom answered his phone with a dry chuckle. “Haven’t heard from you in ages. What’s going on in the exciting world of Nero Wolfe Inc.?”

“You make it sound like we’re some type of corporation, Del. But we are essentially a two-man operation, consisting of a CEO and an underappreciated wage slave.”

“Poor fella, sorry I asked.”

“How is business at your end?”

“Not bad, but it could always be better. I assume you’ve got a reason for calling.”

“You assume right, as usual. Have you got any ops who are up for some tailing?”

“We have. Who do you want shadowed?”

“A nabob of sorts, name of Miles Hirsch, short, skinny, about five foot six, white hair.”

“The name sounds vaguely familiar. Feed me a little more.”

I gave Del a rundown on what we knew about Hirsch, including his Park Avenue address and the description of his bodyguard and his automobile, complete with the Chrysler’s license number.

“Based on the times you want a man glued to Hirsch, I’d set up three six-hour shifts, complete with a taxi outside his building. It’s gonna cost Wolfe. You want these to be covert tails?”

“No, we don’t care if your men are spotted.”

“And is this bodyguard of his armed?”

“Everts? I would bet on it.”

“My men will be carrying pieces as well. But, Archie, I don’t want to get them involved in this if there’s going to be gunplay.”

“I’m almost positive there won’t be any of that. Hirsch likes to keep a low profile. Very little has been written about him over the years, and I am sure he wants to keep it that way.”

“Okay, we’ve got a deal. When do we start?”

“Tomorrow morning.”

“That’s fine. There will be a man outside that Park Avenue building at eight o’clock. I suppose you want daily reports?”

“We do.”

“I would have expected nothing less. You will hear from me every day, say around six. As I recall, that is when Wolfe comes down from playing with his posies, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but he would hate to hear you call them posies.”

“A rose by any other name,” Del said, and we signed off.

The next evening’s call came at 6:10 p.m., just after Wolfe had gotten settled in at his desk with beer and a new book, Roosevelt and Hopkins, by Robert E. Sherwood. I answered, was greeted with “Bascom reporting,” and motioned Wolfe to pick up his phone.

“Here’s today’s report,” Del said. “The Chrysler pulled up in front of the Park Avenue palace at nine fifteen a.m. and, with a chauffeur at the wheel, drove Hirsch and his ape to the Continental Bank branch on East Fifty-Fourth Street, with my man in a taxi trailing them at a discreet distance. Hirsch went into the bank alone and was there for twenty-two minutes. When he came out, he got back in the car, which then headed downtown to Eleventh Street near Sixth Avenue and stopped in front of a three-story brick building, the kind you see a lot of in the Village.” Del gave its address.

“Both Hirsch and Everts went in, and they were there for thirteen minutes before leaving and getting back into the car, which then drove them back to Hirsch’s Park Avenue digs.”

“Two questions, Mr. Bascom,” Wolfe said. “Did your man feel that he was spotted by Hirsch at any time? And did he — your man, that is — observe Hirsch and Everts enter Hirsch’s Park Avenue building?”

“Yes, to both, Mr. Wolfe,” Bascom said. “Because our assignment was specifically to keep an eye on Hirsch’s activities and those of his henchman, my man made no effort to conceal himself, and he did see both men enter Hirsch’s Park Avenue address. Do you want me to have someone keep a watch on the Eleventh Street home?”

“Not necessary. But continue to monitor Mr. Hirsch’s activities until further notice.”

“Let me guess our next move,” I said to Wolfe after we ended the phone call. “We are going to have some combination of Saul, Fred, and Orrie stake out that four-story building in the Village.”

“Perceptive, up to a point,” Wolfe grunted. “We also need to learn the names of the domicile’s residents, as well as the owner.”

“I thought that went without saying.” Another grunt as he went back to his book.

Knowing what was expected of me, I telephoned Saul Panzer and laid out the situation.

“I am familiar with the block, but not the specific building; I’ll get on the case. Does Mr. Wolfe want it under surveillance?”

“He does indeed. Will you set that up?”

“Of course. In fact, I’ll head over there right now to have a look.”

Saul did not waste any time. He called back just before we were about to go into the dining room. “Thought you would be interested in this,” he said. “I haven’t gone into the place yet, but I have given it a look from the outside, and what do you know? It has a rear entrance that leads to a narrow walkway between buildings that puts you on Tenth Avenue. Remind you of anything?”

“Like a certain dwelling on West Thirty-Fifth Street?” I asked. “Makes it handy to leave the joint without being seen from the front.”

“Much as you and Mr. Wolfe have been known to do on occasion — Fred, Orrie, and me, too, for that matter, especially when Inspector Cramer is pounding on the door. I am going to do some more poking around, and I will report with any progress.”

Because Wolfe bans shoptalk during meals, I waited until we were in the office with coffee to give him an account of Saul’s preliminary report on the Eleventh Street residence and its rear entrance.

“We tend to think it unique that we have what essentially is an escape hatch,” Wolfe said, referring to the back way out of the brownstone, “although I suspect there are far more such exits in Manhattan than we realize, despite this island being devoid of alleys.”

“I’ll be more interested in what Panzer learns when he delves more deeply into the details of that place in the Village.”

“Knowing Saul’s tenacity and thoroughness, I am confident we will learn more in an expedient manner,” Wolfe said.

I suppose 10:00 a.m. the next morning qualifies as expedient, because that was when we got another call from Saul.

“First, the house is a single-owner place, so there aren’t any nameplates at the front entrance. Second, I got no answer when I rang the bell on several occasions last night and today. Third, I’ve got a friend at City Hall who I once did a favor for.”

“Whoa, that is what Wolfe would call a non sequitur,” I said. “Your third item has nothing to do with the first two.”

“Okay, smart guy, so I may not have expressed myself well enough to suit someone who is getting much-needed lessons in English usage from Nero Wolfe. Through this individual I know at the hall, I was able to learn who owns the building. Her name is Elaine Musgrove, and I looked up her home address, which is — no surprise — that very building.”

“And from what you have said, nobody’s home.”

“That appears to be the case,” Saul said. “Shades, blinds, and curtains are all closed; the place looks like it’s shuttered.”

“Yet we know damn well that Hirsch and his lackey were just there and stayed for a few minutes.”

“Which of course means we’ll be keeping a watch on it — around the clock.”

“You took the words right out of my mouth. We will remain in touch.”

When Wolfe came down from the plant rooms at eleven and got himself settled with his beers and a book, I reported.

“Call Miss Rowan; I wish to speak to her,” he ordered and opened the book to where he had bookmarked it.

“Good morning, lady of leisure,” I said when she answered.

“Leisure, my foot,” she shot back. “For the last two hours, I have been planning a May picnic with games and pony rides for a bunch of orphans up at my place in Katonah.”

“I stand corrected and chagrined, well aware of the many good works you are involved with. Mr. Wolfe would like to take a few minutes of your valuable time.” I stayed on the line as Wolfe picked up.

“Good morning, Miss Rowan. I am sorry to disturb you, but I have a question.”

“Which I will try to answer.”

“Good. Does the name Elaine Musgrove mean anything to you?”

There was a pause at the other end. “She... sounds familiar,” Lily finally said. “A friend of Maureen’s, maybe from college. Yes, that’s it; I’m sure they were classmates.”

“Indeed? Where did they attend university?”

“Radcliffe, which is part of Harvard. Now it’s coming back to me. I have heard Maureen speak fondly of Elaine more than once, although I’ve never met her. The two of them are part of a group that has stayed very close since their university years. I always wished I’d had a similar bunch when I was at Barnard, but such was not the case. Do you think Elaine may know where Maureen is?”

“It is possible,” Wolfe said.

“It also is possible that Eric Mason may know more about Elaine than I do. I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful.”

“You have been of more help than you realize, Miss Rowan,” Wolfe said, hanging up as I stayed on the line. “It was a good suggestion of yours to call Mason,” I told Lily.

“It’s all I could think of right now. Please keep me apprised.”

“Absolutely. After all, you are a client.”

“Call Mr. Mason,” Wolfe ordered after we signed off.

The advertising man picked up on the second ring, and when I identified myself, he muttered, “I wondered if I was ever going to hear from you and Wolfe again.”

“We have been working. It’s just that we haven’t had anything significant to report. I’ve got a question: Do you know Elaine Musgrove?”

“Well, sort of. I have met her a couple of times, an old college chum of Maureen’s. Seems like a nice gal. I think she has got a place down in the Village, although I have never been there.”

“Does she go away in the winter months?”

“Yeah, to the French Riviera.”

“Do you happen to know where she stays?”

“Oddly enough I do, because Maureen was there once years ago, and she mentioned what a great setup it was. Every winter Elaine spends at least a couple of months, maybe more, at a luxury villa on the grounds of a hotel in Cap d’Antibes.”

“Do you know the name of the hotel?”

“Say, what’s this all about?”

“We’re not sure, but we think Elaine Musgrove might be able to help us locate Maureen, although I must tell you that it could be a long shot.”

“At this point, I’ll take that long shot,” Mason said.

“It may mean sending one of our men to the Riviera.”

“Fine by me. Just add whatever it costs to my bill, as long as your guy doesn’t linger down there too long.”

“He won’t, he’s all business. What’s the name of the place where Elaine Musgrove is staying?”

“Oh yeah, it’s the Hôtel de la Mer.”

I thanked Mason, hung up, and swiveled to Wolfe for instructions.