The Missing Heiress

Chapter 23

After all that Maureen Carr had apparently been through, I was not about to have her travel from Lily’s to the brownstone on West Thirty-Fifth without an armed escort. So, after finishing lunch and calling Lily to set things up, I slipped the Marley .38 into my shoulder holster and grabbed a cab to East Sixty-Ninth Street.

As I entered the penthouse for the second time that day, I saw that Maureen was ready to go — and so was Lily Rowan. I started to say something, but Lily cut me off before I could start.

“Maureen wants me with her, and I cannot imagine that Nero Wolfe would mind in the least,” she said in a tone I know all too well — one that brooks no objections.

“Okay with me,” I said, holding up both palms in surrender. “Although Wolfe may send you up to the plant rooms to gaze at his orchids. He knows how much you like them.”

“I would really like it if Lily stayed with me,” Maureen said. “I have never met Nero Wolfe, and I’ve heard that he can be intimidating.”

“He’s a pussycat,” I said, which drew a laugh from Lily.

“Pussycat, eh?” she said. “I can only imagine how he would react if he heard you call him that.”

“All right, maybe I misspoke just a tad. But, Maureen, you have nothing whatever to be afraid of from Nero Wolfe. Like me, he is pleased that you have been located.”

When we got to the brownstone, Fritz opened the door, bowing as the two women entered. When their backs were to him, I noticed he was slyly admiring two pairs of legs.

Wolfe, who was at his desk, stood when we entered the office. Lily, knowing how unusual that is, looked at me with wide eyes. But of course, Maureen didn’t realize what a break in tradition this was. I gestured our guest to the red leather chair, while Lily sat in a yellow one and I parked at my desk. Wolfe did not seem to be bothered in the least by Lily’s presence. He probably was expecting it.

“Miss Carr,” Wolfe said, “you have stories to tell, I am sure, but before we move on, I must inform you, if Miss Rowan has not already, that I was hired to locate you.”

“Yes, she has told me you were hired by Lily and by Eric Mason,” Maureen said, her voice strong. No cases of nerves.

“But of course, I cannot claim my fee, as it was not my doing, but rather circumstances, that conspired to locate you.”

“Understood, and I am sorry to deprive you of your fee. But I have a proposition for you.”

“Is that so?”

“I want you to find whoever it was that killed my brother, and I have heard that you charge high rates. I am fully capable of meeting those rates, Mr. Wolfe.”

“We can discuss specific arrangements in due time. First, I would like a summary of your activities over the last few weeks.”

I could give you a detailed report on Wolfe’s conversation with Maureen Carr, but since you are going to hear much of it later on, I will not put you through having to read a lot of the same material twice.

“Do you plan to return to your residence, madam?”

“Eventually I will, of course. But for now, Lily has graciously allowed me to stay with her. After we leave here, we are going to my place to pick up some clothes. I have been living out of a suitcase long enough.”

“Understood. Mr. Goodwin will accompany you in that endeavor. Do you have any thoughts as to who shot your brother?”

“Nothing definite. I assume the police have been investigating.”

“They have, and without any apparent success.”

“I was quite serious when I said I want to hire you to do the job,” Maureen said, tight-lipped.

“I took it that you were serious,” Wolfe said. “We will talk further. For now, I assume you are in need of rest.”

“I hope that does not show too much,” Maureen responded, brushing errant wisps of hair from her forehead. “About Everett: I realize that I should be devastated by his death, but the truth is, we never were at all close. As I’m sure you are aware, we were only half-siblings, many years apart in age, and we spent almost no time together. If that makes me sound coldhearted, I am sorry, but I’m only being candid.”

“As Alexander Pope wrote in Essay on Man, ‘be candid where we can,’ and I for one appreciate candor,” Wolfe said. “It avoids so-called niceties that too often interfere with free and open exchanges of thoughts and ideas. Now if you will excuse me, I have another appointment,” he said, rising and walking out of the office.

Maureen wore a surprised look, but I jumped in before she started to speak. “Mr. Wolfe was not upset with you. It is just that he can be rather... abrupt. It’s in his nature.”

“I think she realizes that, Archie,” Lily said. “I have been prepping her on what to expect from him. And what we just saw can only be described as vintage Nero Wolfe.”

“Well said,” I remarked. “There has been enough taxi riding recently. I have nominated myself as chauffeur, and like fugitives, we are about to leave the brownstone via the back way. You never know who might be watching the brownstone.”

They both wore puzzled looks as we walked through the kitchen as Fritz and Wolfe were conferring about how the lamb should be cooked. They ignored us as we left by the door, went down the steps, and walked along a narrow path to a gate in the wooden fence that encloses the backyard.

“In all the years that I have known you, I have never been shown this,” Lily remarked to me. “I begin to feel like a fugitive.”

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, ladies,” I told them as I opened the gate, which locks on the inside and cannot be accessed from the outside. Another narrow path between two buildings led to a sidewalk near the corner of Thirty-Fourth Street and Tenth Avenue.

“You both have just navigated the emergency exit route from the brownstone that Mr. Wolfe and I, as well as some of our freelance operatives, have used during crucial times to avoid visitors, often members of the constabulary, who were trying to batter down our door.”

“In case you didn’t know, he means the police,” Lily said to Maureen, winking.

“Yeah, I did guess that. You must live an exciting life, Archie.”

“So says the woman who has had plenty of excitement herself recently. Well, here we are.”

“Curran Motors,” Lily said, looking up at a sign on the front of a brick one-story garage.

“Yep, the secret is out. This is where we keep our cars, have for years,” I said as we walked in.

“Hey, Archie,” called out a guy in gray coveralls who had a rag sticking out of a pocket. “I assume you’re here for the Heron. This isn’t convertible weather, not yet. Maybe in a couple weeks, huh?”

“Hi, Art. Yes, I’m here for the Heron this time. Can I trust you to produce said automobile from wherever it’s been stowed?”

“I will get it right away,” he said, and within three minutes, Art pulled the sedan up in front of us. As he got out, he threw a lopsided grin at Lily and Maureen, and then said to me, “How come some guys have two beautiful women with them, and I don’t have any?”

“Art, it’s an intangible aura that I happen to have, and I wish I could explain it, but I can’t. Call it the luck of the draw.”

Both women climbed into the back seat and I gave Art a salute. “If I had a chauffeur’s hat, I’d be wearing it,” I told him as I pulled away.

“Sorry,” I said, turning to the ladies. “I would rather be driving you in the convertible, but Art is right. This isn’t the weather for it.”

“He seemed kind of cute,” Maureen remarked. “Too bad he doesn’t have a girl.”

“Hah, don’t let Art fool you. He doesn’t have a girl because he has a wife, and a damned nice-looking one, too. Along with two kids.”

“Enough of this idle chatter,” Lily said. “Onward, Jeeves.”

I dropped the women off at Maureen’s Park Avenue palace and idled at the curb while they went upstairs to gather some of her clothes. The doorman, Seamus, strode up to the Heron wearing his big, toothy Irish grin and said, “Hello, Mr. Goodwin. It is so nice to see Miss Carr back again. She has been away for some time now.”

“She has, and I suspect she will be in and out for a while, but I agree that it’s good that she has returned.” I jawed with Seamus about such topics as the weather and the Giants’ chances of getting into the World Series for close to a half hour. When the ladies finally came down, they were carrying a pair of suitcases and several dresses on hangers in zippered bags.

“How long before you have to come back here and replenish your wardrobe?” I asked Maureen.

“Oh, just ignore him,” Lily countered. “Men love to see us looking nice, but they never appreciate how hard we work to please them.”

My answer was a sigh as I pulled away and drove to Lily’s building, where, to show that I was not the churl Lily likes to make me out to be, I helped cart the clothes up to the penthouse. After bidding the women good-bye and getting hugs of thanks and even a kiss from Lily, I returned home.