The Missing Heiress

Chapter 21

Starting the next morning, Saul telephoned me just after nine to report on the previous day’s findings. For each of the first two days of surveillance, Stan Jurek left home at 6:16 a.m. and walked east to Broadway, where he entered a subway station, presumably to take the long ride to his job in Brooklyn, and each evening he returned home by 5:20. On the second day, he was toting a six-pack of beer.

Sofia left home both days as well. On day one, she emerged onto the street at 11:12 in the morning and walked to the grocery store down the block, stayed inside for twenty-three minutes, then walked back home carrying a bag of groceries that included a loaf of bread sticking out of the top. On the second day, she came out just after eleven and went to the drugstore at the Broadway corner, returning ten minutes later carrying a small sack.

I thanked Saul and wondered if the surveillance may well amount to nothing, to use Wolfe’s own words. Assuming we were charging Eric Mason for the day rates of three veteran detectives, his eventual bill figured to be a corker.

On the morning of the next daily report, I felt it was time to tell Wolfe the surveillance was a wasted effort and that we should cut our losses. But that all changed when Saul telephoned.

“I was on the morning shift yesterday,” he said, “and as you will recall, the rain was coming down hard. At just after ten, Sofia came out of her building in a raincoat and with an umbrella, and she was not alone.”

“Go on,” I said, tightening my grip on the receiver.

“The other individual, a couple of inches taller than Sofia, also wore a raincoat, which had a hood. The two of them were huddled together under the umbrella so closely that I couldn’t see the face of the second person, but it had to be a woman.”

“Why, Saul?”

“The shoes. They were definitely a women’s style, with about two-inch heels.”

“Where did they go?”

I heard a sigh. “What I am going to tell you does not reflect well upon me, Archie, and I won’t charge for my time today — that would be like stealing from Mr. Wolfe.”

“We will leave it to him to decide that. Now tell me what happened, no matter how much it pains you to unburden yourself.”

“The pair walked east to Broadway in the rain, which had intensified. They got lucky and hailed a southbound Yellow cab right away, but when I got to the corner only seconds later, there wasn’t a damned taxi in sight. Plain and simple, I had lost them.”

“But they came back, right?”

“Wrong. That is, Sofia came back at about three alone and went into the building. I would love to ask where she had been and who she was with, but our instructions were to not identify ourselves.”

“You not being able to grab a cab was a bad break,” I sympathized.

“Well, I may be able to salvage a little pride, but it’s a long shot.”

“Out with it, man!”

“If nothing else, I got the taxi’s number as it pulled away. I passed it along to a guy I did a favor for once who works in the Hack Bureau, the agency that licenses the city’s cabs. I haven’t heard back from him, and even if I do, he may not want to tell him who owns the Yellow.”

“How big was the favor you did for him?”

“Big enough that it probably kept him out of the hoosegow.”

“That would seem to give you some leverage.”

“We’ll see,” Saul said, sounding less than optimistic.

When Wolfe came down from the plant rooms, I filled him in on Panzer’s report.

“Saul has no reason whatever to chastise himself,” Wolfe said. “I am assured that he will wring some information out of his source in that licensing agency.” My boss’s faith in Saul Panzer’s abilities was unlimited, and my own confidence in him was much the same.

Our faith was merited when I answered the telephone that afternoon, just after Wolfe had gone up to play with the orchids. “I got the cabbie,” Saul said.

“Wonderful. Can you bring him here?”

“I can, say at six, when Mr. W. comes down from the plant rooms. I’ll pay him myself for his time.”

“Six works. And as for any payment to the hack driver, we will discuss it.”

I then called Wolfe on the house phone. “Yes!” he barked in his usual telephone tone.

“I know you hate to be disturbed when you’re up in the greenhouse, but I did not want you to be surprised when you came down to the office. Saul has located the cabdriver who picked up Sofia and her companion. They will be here at six.”

“Satisfactory,” Wolfe said, hanging up. That was the first time he had ever used that word of praise after being interrupted during one of his sessions with the orchids.

The doorbell rang at 5:58 p.m., and when I opened the front door, Saul was there with a short, swarthy man sporting a black mustache, a flat cap, and a black leather jacket.

“Archie, this is Max Jacobs. Max, Archie Goodwin is an assistant to Nero Wolfe, whose house this is.” I shook hands with Jacobs, and we walked down the hall just as Wolfe was emerging from the elevator.

Once we all were seated in the office, with Jacobs in the red leather chair, Saul did the introductions. “Would you like something to drink, sir?” Wolfe asked. “I am having beer.”

“Uh, thanks a lot, beer is good for me, too.”

Before Wolfe could hit the buzzer to call Fritz, Saul stood and said, “I’ll get the beers. Milk for you, Archie?”

By the time Saul returned from the kitchen with a tray of drinks and frosted steins, Wolfe was asking Jacobs how he liked being a taxi driver.

“It’s okay, although, lately, it seems like the tips are pretty skimpy. I can’t say exactly why.”

“I am sorry to hear that. We are still recovering from the war and all the shortages it has justifiably caused, and perhaps people are still cautious in their spending, which would seem to be understandable.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you’re right,” Jacobs said, nodding and taking a sip of his beer. “But I can live with that. We all should. I served myself, in the Italian campaign, and after seeing what those poor people over there had to go through, I’m just glad we’ve done everything here to win the damned war, even if it means going without some stuff.”

“Admirably stated,” Wolfe said. “Mr. Panzer tells me you have some information for us.”

“Before we go on,” Saul said, “Max stepped forward, willing to help. We came here in his cab, which is at the curb with its meter running. I don’t want him to lose revenue, and I will pay his fare.”

“Mr. Jacobs will receive his fare — and more. Now, sir, I realize Mr. Panzer already has asked you some questions regarding a trip you made from Morningside Heights. Can you tell Mr. Goodwin and me about it?”

“Sure. The rain was comin’ down pretty hard as I headed south on Broadway, and these two people, turned out they were both women, jumped off the curb and flagged me down. I damn near hit one of them. Anyway, they hopped in and told me to go to a bank at Forty-Third and Madison — it’s a branch of Continental.”

“How would you describe your passengers?” Wolfe asked.

“They both were young and, I don’t know, I guess nervous, or maybe just cold from the rain. The temperature was just above freezing. They were shaking, and they said no more than a few words during the trip, and those I could barely hear.”

“When you let them off at the bank, did they ask you to wait?”

“Nope, they seemed to be in a hurry. The taller one acted like she was in charge. I waited to watch them go inside, and then I pulled away.”

“I hope they paid you.”

“Oh yeah, the shorter one did, although there was no tip. But as I told you before, I’m plenty used to that. It’s just the way things are.”

“Thank you very much, sir,” Wolfe said. “Archie, will you get one hundred dollars from the safe and give it to Mr. Jacobs?”

Saul started to protest, but I waved it aside and got the money out in twenties, handing it to Jacobs, who looked as if he had just won the Irish Sweepstakes. He was still expressing his thanks to Wolfe as Saul led him out.

“Well,” I said after they had gone, “I believe that I know what comes next.”

“Which is?”

“Yet another call to our friend Mortimer M. Hotchkiss, at the Continental Bank and Trust Co.”

“It is comforting to know that I am predictable, Archie. We will place a telephone call to him tomorrow morning.”