The Missing Heiress

Chapter 24

When I walked into the office, I saw that Wolfe had returned from his afternoon session with the orchids and was leaning back at his desk as if asleep.

“I certainly hope I am not disturbing you,” I said.

He opened his eyes, blinked at me, and sniffed. “I have procrastinated,” he announced. “Call Miss Carr. I wish to speak to her.”

I called Lily’s number, and when she answered, I told her Nero Wolfe wanted words with Maureen. “Really? I will get her,” Lily replied.

Wolfe picked up his phone, and I stayed on. “Miss Carr, you earlier said you wanted to hire me to name the killer of your brother. Is your offer still on the table?”

“It certainly is, Mr. Wolfe. And I assure you that you will not find me a difficult negotiator regarding fees.”

“That can wait for a later discussion, madam. For me to proceed, I may request help of a nonfinancial nature.”

“All you have to do is ask,” Maureen replied, “and I will do whatever I can.”

“Satisfactory. Expect to hear from Mr. Goodwin.”

After we all hung up, I turned to Wolfe. “What did I miss?”

“Miss? Nothing significant I am aware of.”

“When I was gone did you...?”

“Did I what, Archie?” Wolfe snapped.

“Never mind.” What I was about to ask him: Did you do that lip trick of yours while I was gone? (I was referring, of course, to when Wolfe was in the process of solving a case, he would go into some sort of trance and his lips world go out and in, out and in before he awoke with the solution.) I never brought the subject up later, and I suppose I will never find out what he was up to in my absence. I shifted gears. “What kind of help are you going to need from Maureen Carr?”

Wolfe pulled in air and exhaled. “I want her to use what persuasive powers she possesses to get Stanley and Sofia Jurek to the brownstone at a time to be determined. Also, I want you to do likewise regarding Miles Hirsch and his bodyguard, Harley Everts.”

“An interesting challenge. This begins to sound suspiciously like what Inspector Cramer refers to as one of your seances. Who else needs to be roped in?”

“Miss Rowan and Eric Mason, our former clients. By the way, it is possible Mr. Mason does not know that Miss Carr has returned.”

“He probably isn’t aware of it, unless Maureen herself has informed him. Okay, we know who you want present, now as to the when.”

“Tomorrow night, nine o’clock,” Wolfe said.

“Easy for you to say. When we make our calls, do we tell the invitees the purpose of the meeting?”

“The naming of Everett Carr’s murderer.”

I was not surprised. “And I suppose you will want Cramer present as well.”

“I will personally offer him the opportunity to attend.”

“Any suggestions on what I can use as bait to get Hirsch and his thug to make an appearance?”

“Over the years, I have been impressed by your persuasive powers. Bring those powers into play once again.”

“All right, next question: Are you going to give Maureen Carr her assignment, or do you expect me to?”

“You always have had a good understanding of young women and how they think.”

“Hah! You are giving me far too much credit. But I see that I have been given yet another task.” Wolfe’s response was to open an orchid catalog that had arrived in the morning mail. There was to be no further discussion, as is so often the case.

I figured I might as well start on the hardest task first, and I was hardly surprised to find that Miles Hirsch was not listed in the Manhattan phone directory. That meant a call to Lon Cohen.

“Yeah?” he answered after a couple of rings.

“I need some information,” I told him.

“I’ll try to mask my surprise. What is it this time?”

“Hey, don’t get all uppity,” I told him. “There may be a scoop here for you.”

“Talk is cheap, Archie. What is it you need?”

“An unlisted phone number. And I believe you have the resources at your mighty journal to accommodate me.”

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere. Give me the name.”

“Miles Hirsch.”

“Why am I not shocked? The very same fellow you had me pull the clips on. Now I really do begin to smell a scoop.”

“Stop salivating. Can you get me his phone number?”

“I’ll call you back — soon,” Lon said and hung up.

“Soon” turned out to be ten minutes, and Lon fed me the number. “Just remember who your friends are,” he said.

“How can I forget, as often as you keep reminding me?”

I dialed the number Lon had given me, and the call was answered by a male in what seemed to be an English accent, or some approximation. “Mr. Hirsch’s residence,” he intoned.

“I would like to speak to Miles Hirsch,” I said after getting the standard who-may-I-ask-is-calling response and giving my name.

There was silence on the line for close to a half minute, and then the English voice was back. “I am so sorry, sir, but Mr. Hirsch is indisposed.”

“Oh dear, I’m sorry as well. I do hope it is nothing serious. Please tell Mr. Hirsch that we were so hoping he might be able to attend an important meeting at Mr. Nero Wolfe’s residence at nine o’clock tomorrow night. It promises to be very important to Mr. Hirsch’s business interests, and to his standing in the community.”

Another silence, this time shorter. “Goddamn it, Goodwin, just what are you trying to pull? And how did you get this number?” Hirsch shouted as I jerked the receiver away from my ear.

“Pull? I am not sure what you mean, Mr. Hirsch. Mr. Wolfe was concerned that you might regret missing a gathering at his home that could affect your future.”

“Now listen to me, and listen good, you two-bit private peeper. Nobody, and I mean nobody, tells me where I’ve got to be and when. You got that?”

“I certainly do, Mr. Hirsch. Mr. Wolfe will be sorry for your absence, as will Police Inspector Cramer, who I understand was looking forward to meeting you.”

“Cramer? What the hell would he be doing at Wolfe’s place? What kind of a racket are you guys pulling?”

“No racket at all, Mr. Hirsch. Nero Wolfe is a licensed private investigator in the state of New York.”

That got a scornful laugh from Hirsch. “Hell, those clowns up in Albany will give a license to anybody as long as it brings dough into the state’s coffers.”

“You sound rather cynical,” I remarked.

“Damn right. I’ve got reason to be with all that I’ve seen through the years.”

“Interesting. I heard a similar reaction from a policeman recently,” I told him. “It seems like a shame for you to miss out on this meeting,” I remarked. “You may know several other people who will be present.”

“Yeah, like who?”

“I am not at liberty to say at the moment.”

“What a crock. Tell you what, Goodwin, I’m going to call Wolfe’s bluff and show up tomorrow, and whether you guys like it or not, I’m going to bring Harley Everts along to watch my back.”

“That’s an excellent idea, Mr. Hirsch. I was going to suggest it myself, but you beat me to it.”

My comment seemed to give the gambler pause, at least for a few seconds. He recovered and muttered something about seeing us tomorrow before hanging up. Next, I called one of my favorite numbers, and Lily answered.

“Is all well with Maureen?” I asked.

“Yes, she is still in recovery mode after all her adventures.”

“I’m not surprised. Two items: One, has she talked to Mason since her... reemergence? And two, I need to speak to her.”

“No, she hasn’t called Mason; and she’s resting, but she’s not asleep. I’ll get her.”

“Hi, Archie,” Maureen said after stifling a yawn. “Lily said that you needed to talk to me.”

“First, I hope you’re getting plenty of rest.”

“Don’t worry about that. Lily has been spoiling me.”

“Glad to hear it. Mr. Wolfe has an assignment for you.”

“Uh-oh, should I be worried?”

“I hardly think so. He is having a meeting tomorrow night at nine p.m. at his home, and we’re in the process of gathering the attendees. He has asked that you invite Sofia and Stan Jurek.”

“What’s the meeting about, Archie?”

“Mr. Wolfe wants to learn more about how your brother happened to be shot. And after all, you are his client.”

“I’m not sure what I should tell Sofia and Stan. I do know how upset they are — especially Sofia — for what I’ve been through and for what happened to Everett.”

“Understood. Just tell them you have hired Mr. Wolfe to help you, and that one or the other of them may have some thoughts about anyone they knew or have seen who could help in his investigation.”

“All right, I will telephone them. Should I get back to you with what they say?”

“Absolutely, and as quickly as possible. Mr. Wolfe really does feel they might be of some help. It is important you stress that to each of them.”

“Aye, aye, sir.”

“Two more things, Maureen: Bring Lily with you tomorrow night. And I know you haven’t talked to Eric Mason, but we will want to invite him as well, being that he was a client. Do you have a problem with us asking that he come?”

“No... no, but won’t he be surprised to see me, and get angry that I haven’t called him?”

“That’s possible, of course, but you can always say that you’ve been so traumatized that you’ve been in seclusion.”

“Sounds pretty dramatic,” Maureen said.

“Well, there has been plenty of drama lately. I hope to hear from you soon regarding the Jureks. By the way, do you have Mason’s home number? We have been calling him at the ad agency.”

She gave it to me, and after we signed off, I turned to Wolfe, who still had his nose in that orchid catalog. “You probably got the drift from hearing my end of those calls that Hirsch and his henchman are coming tomorrow night and Maureen will try to get the Jurek couple to show up.”

“Do you doubt her success?”

“No, but if she does happen to strike out, I will exert my persuasive powers with them. I assume you want me to call Eric Mason.”

“Your assumption is correct. Before you speak to him, I need to talk to Inspector Cramer.”

Which translates to, You call him, right now. Like so many other numbers, I know the inspector’s by heart. I dialed and after two rings got “Cramer!” shouted at me. He and Wolfe must have attended the same school of telephone etiquette. I nodded to my boss, who picked up his receiver.

“Good day, Inspector,” he said.

“I haven’t seen anything good about it yet,” Cramer snapped. “And now with you on the line, it’s only bound to get worse.”

“You have not heard me out, sir. It’s possible I have good news.”

“I will be the judge of that.”

“Very well. I have invited several people to the brownstone tomorrow night at nine. I plan to identify Everett Carr’s murderer, who will be among those present, and I felt you might want to be on hand.”

There was a long pause, which could have meant Cramer was gnawing on a stogie either in anger or in frustration. Finally, he found his voice, and it had an edge. “I was right; the day has gotten worse. Who are you going to finger?”

“You know better than to ask that, Mr. Cramer. There must be a full explanation before there can be a revelation.”

“You sure can spit out the long words, Wolfe,” he snarled. “So, it’s to be another one of your goddamn spectacles. You should have gone on the stage. Broadway lost one of the great dramatic actors when you became a detective.”

“Sarcasm does not become you, sir. Do you plan to be in attendance tomorrow night?”

“Yes, along with Sergeant Stebbins, whether you like it or not.”

“I have no objection to his presence. In fact, I believe it to be a prudent move.”

“Well, I am sure glad that I have your approval,” Cramer said, hanging up.

“So that much is settled,” I told Wolfe. “Now I’ll call Eric Mason.” That got a nod, nothing more.

“I wasn’t sure I’d find you in,” I told the ad man when he answered.

“And why not?” he said sharply. “I was beginning to wonder if I would ever hear from you or Nero Wolfe again. What’s going on with the search for Maureen?”

“We have some news, but I can’t tell you about it right now. There is going to be a gathering at Mr. Wolfe’s brownstone tomorrow night, and you’re invited.”

“Why all the mystery? What the hell is going on?”

“You will find out at that time. Sorry, but Nero Wolfe does things his way. And he gets results.”

Mason continued to grumble about how he’s been in the dark for so long. I listened for a while to show I was sympathetic, but then told him I had other people to call and curtly ended the conversation.

No sooner had I hung up than the phone jangled. It was Maureen. “Archie, both of the Jureks will be at your place tomorrow night, although persuading them to come was not easy.”

“Tell me about it.”

“Sofia answered my call, and after I explained about the meeting, she seemed uneasy, saying she didn’t understand why they should have to be at your place tomorrow. Then Stan came on the line and started barking at me. He said he was tired of being accused of things. I told him nobody was accusing him of anything, and that Mr. Wolfe just needed to learn more about my brother.

“Stan finally calmed down — he has quite a temper — and then he persuaded Sofia that it would be all right if they went to the meeting. She finally agreed, but not until they had talked for several minutes. I could hear the conversation through the receiver, and there was some whining on Sofia’s part. She does not like confrontation of any kind, as I learned when she worked for me. It’s a shyness that she’s never gotten over.”

“Congratulations on pulling it off. Now I can tell you something: Eric Mason also will be present tomorrow night. He was angry that we hadn’t been in touch with him for a few days, and I heard him out and let him vent. I did not tell him you would be present, so be prepared for a reaction.”

“I will steel myself,” she said.

“I’m sure you will. Come a little early tomorrow night. It would be good if you were already seated when the others arrive.”