The Missing Heiress

Chapter 25

So we were set for tomorrow’s festivities. As usual, I had not caught up with Wolfe and his reasoning, although I had begun to have suspicions. He told me to make sure Saul Panzer would be present to welcome the guests and to serve drinks.

The next day dragged by as they always do when Wolfe is going to stage one of his show-and-tell sessions. I found a variety of ways to pass the time, including bringing the expense ledger up to date and making sure several bills got paid on time.

After a dinner in which Wolfe expounded on the generally positive impact immigration had made on American society in general, I set up the chairs in the office while Saul stocked the beverage cart with a variety of liquors and filled the ice bucket.

At eight thirty, Lily and Maureen arrived, each of them clearly on edge. “Because you are now the client, you get the place of honor, the red leather chair,” I told Maureen, who did not appear to be overly impressed. Then I turned to Lily. “And for you, this chair in the front row — the farthest from me, I’m sorry to say, but that’s how Mr. Wolfe wants it.”

“He probably thinks if I sit close to you, we will murmur sweet nothings to each other, and I don’t have to tell you how he feels about scenes like that.”

“We will just have to do our murmurings some other time. I can wait if you can.”

“It will be difficult,” Lily said, “but then, I’ve got a lot of willpower. Who will be sitting with me in this row?”

“Miles Hirsch, the gambler, and next to you, his bodyguard, Harley Everts.”

“Oh swell. Maybe I can strike up a conversation with this Everts about the brand of brass knuckles he uses.”

“Now don’t you go getting all sarcastic on me,” I told Lily.

“Me, sarcastic, never, my dear. I prefer to call myself a realist.”

“If I can interrupt this snappy patter, Archie,” Maureen said, “as the client, I would like to know the rest of the seating arrangements.”

“You certainly are entitled to that. The second row will have Stan Jurek closest to me, then Sofia and Eric Mason. And the two chairs in the back will be occupied by Inspector Cramer and his sergeant, Purley Stebbins. Oh, and Saul Panzer will be parked on the sofa against the wall as an onlooker.”

No sooner had I got those words out than the bell sounded, which sent Fritz to the front door. Seconds later, followed by the heavy-footed Stebbins, Cramer stepped in, looked around, noted the presence of Lily, Maureen, and Panzer, and scowled. “Miss Rowan, I have known you since you were a child, and as you are aware, I knew and respected your father — a fine man, and one who helped me early in my career. I can only guess how he would feel if he knew you were a party to these Wolfe-Goodwin shenanigans.”

“Oh, I think he would be just fine with them, Inspector, just like he was fine nurturing your career back when you were pounding the beat.” Cramer made a face but did not respond.

“And, Inspector,” Lily continued, “this is Maureen Carr, a very good friend of mine who is here to learn who killed her brother.”

Before Cramer could respond, the bell chimed again, and the Jureks came into the office, looking around nervously. They were followed immediately by Eric Mason, whose expression when he saw Maureen was one for the ages. His face went from shock to pleasure to anger in matter of seconds. “Why... you are... how...?”

To prevent the man from becoming a babbling idiot, Maureen quietly said, “We will talk later, Eric. Now is not the time.”

That shut him up, and he plopped down where I directed as the Jureks also sat without complaint and without uttering a word.

The next, and last, sounding of the doorbell brought Miles Hirsch and his sidekick Everts in, each of them looking like he would rather be anywhere else.

I got the pair seated in the front row. Hirsch started to speak, but he was interrupted by the arrival of Wolfe, who detoured around his desk and got seated. He surveyed the gathering and spoke each person’s name, ending with Cramer and Stebbins.

“What the hell are those two doing here?” Hirsch demanded as he looked over his shoulder and jabbed a gnarled finger at two of New York’s Finest. “You got the cops in your pocket?” he demanded of Wolfe.

“Shut up, or we’ll shut you up!” Cramer barked. “We are here as observers right now, although more outbursts from you might alter our role.”

“Mr. Cramer is correct that he and Sergeant Stebbins are here as observers, and they are present at my invitation and remain at my sufferance. Do you have any further questions, Mr. Hirsch?”

The gambler folded his arms across his chest and shook his head.

“Good, now if we may continue, I am going to have beer,” Wolfe said, pressing the buzzer in the leg-hole of his desk. “Would anyone else like something to drink? We have a well-stocked bar.”

“I didn’t realize this was to be a cocktail party,” Mason huffed, apparently still sore at Maureen for not having communicated with him.

“I’ll have some of Wolfe’s hootch like I did one other time here. Give me that good scotch again,” Hirsch said. “With a dash of water — and I mean only a dash.”

“Me, too,” grunted Everts.

“Oh, what the hell, I’ll play along,” Mason said. “Make mine a rye on the rocks.”

Wolfe nodded to Saul, who rose from his perch on the sofa, a tweed sports coat nicely hiding the S&W snub-nosed .38 nestled in his shoulder holster. He went to the bar cart and began preparing the drinks. After they had been delivered, Wolfe took a sip of the beer Fritz had brought in and again looked over the assemblage.

“I ask your patience, as we are dealing with a complex consecution.”

“What the hell is a consecution?” Hirsch demanded.

“A sequence of events,” Mason said irritably. “We had better not interrupt the man, or we may end up here all night.”

“Thank you, sir,” Wolfe said. “I will not keep any of you here longer than is necessary to explain the denouement.”

“What is a denou — oh, never mind,” Hirsch said. “This guy” — he gestured toward Mason — “is right. Can’t we move this along? We’ve all got places to be, I’m sure.”

“Let us then proceed,” Wolfe said. “This all began as a missing persons case, and that individual is Maureen Carr, who is now, ironically, my client.” Wolfe glanced in her direction. “I was hired by Lily Rowan and Eric Mason to locate Miss Carr, who had not been seen for days and who failed to appear at one or more social functions where she had been expected. She also had been absent from her own home for an extended period, which puzzled her housekeeper, Mrs. Jurek.

“Even with the help of Mr. Goodwin and other investigators I often employ, we were initially unsuccessful in locating our subject — that is, until through some dogged research we learned she had been up in the Albany area, dining with Mr. Hirsch.”

“Now wait a minute, damn it, whose word do you have for that?” Miles Hirsch demanded, rising halfway out of his chair.

“Do you deny the occurrence, sir? Perhaps we should ask Miss Carr about that meal at a roadhouse north of Albany.” Wolfe turned to Maureen.

“Yes, we did have lunch up there,” she said. “I can name the place, if you’d like.”

“Oh, now I get it,” Hirsch said, “this has been a setup. You’ve brought her here to contradict everything I say. Her word against mine.”

Wolfe ignored the gambler. “Miss Carr, how did you and Mr. Hirsch happen to meet and dine at that location upstate?”

“I was handing Mr. Hirsch a certified check for fifty thousand dollars.”

“Indeed? For what purpose?”

“Now wait a minute — I feel like I’m on trial here!” Hirsch barked.

“Just to make something clear,” Inspector Cramer cut in, “this is not a courtroom, whatever Nero Wolfe thinks, and you do not have to respond to any charges or comments.” Cramer seemed to be coming to Hirsch’s defense, although it was clear from the inspector’s facial expression that he had little if any use for the gambler and horse breeder.

“Thank you for clarifying that,” Wolfe said, glaring at Cramer. “Miss Carr, for what reason were you giving Mr. Hirsch that certified check?”

“I was paying off a debt for my brother, who had a gambling problem and had borrowed heavily from Mr. Hirsch.”

“Are you in the habit of lending large sums of money to individuals who gamble?” Wolfe asked Hirsch.

“No comment.”

Wolfe turned to Maureen. “Would you describe your brother as one who gambled heavily?”

She nodded. “I had never been close to Everett, but I always knew he had this problem, usually involving horse racing. I was unaware that he had lost such large sums until I got a telephone call from my brother.” She looked at Hirsch. “This... person said Everett owed him thousands of dollars, and he wanted his money. Everett told me his tone was threatening.”

“How did Mr. Hirsch select the Albany area as the place for your meeting?”

“He told me that at the time he was staying at his home in Saratoga Springs and that it was more convenient for him if we met up there. I did not feel like I had any choice in the matter.”

“Did the two of you dine alone?”

“Yes, although when he picked me up at my hotel in Albany, he had a driver — that man,” Maureen said, pointing a finger at Everts.

“It would seem that you function in a variety of roles for Mr. Hirsch,” Wolfe stated. Everts shrugged but said nothing.

“After you returned from Albany,” Wolfe said to Maureen, “you did not go back to your home but rather to the residence of a friend in Greenwich Village.”

“Yes, I was trying to... well, go underground, I suppose you might say.”

“For what purpose, madam?”

“I did not want to see Hirsch again.”

“Had he threatened you?”

“When we had that lunch, he told me I might have to pay him more money, because Everett was running up more debts.”

“With money Mr. Hirsch was supplying him?”

“I suppose so. I don’t know where else Everett could have gotten it.”

“Am I correct in assuming Mr. Hirsch charges interest on these loans?”

“Boy, does he ever! That’s why, once he got hold of me, he did not want to let go,” Maureen said, glaring at Hirsch, who seemed to be bored by the proceedings. I half expected him to start yawning.

“Unfortunately, you were not able to shake Mr. Hirsch by moving from your address to another one.”

“Then you must know that he and this Everts came to the Greenwich Village house — Elaine Musgrove’s — where Everett and I were staying. I had gotten the key from the man who looks after her place when she is away. Elaine, bless her, had wired him from France and asked him to give me the key after I had talked to her.”

“How did Mr. Hirsch find you?”

“I really don’t know, unless he followed me when I left home. I hadn’t told anyone where I was going. I was frankly terrified.”

“What did Mr. Hirsch say to you when he came to your temporary abode?”

“To start with, he fooled me by having this Everts man ring the bell, and when I answered on the speaker, he said ‘Western Union.’ I did not recognize his voice, so I opened the door and they both pushed on in. Then Hirsch laughed and said something like ‘So you thought you would lose me by ducking out, eh? Well, Harley and I, we want to keep close track of you. We never know when we might need you.’”

“How did your brother happen to be in that Greenwich Village home with you?” Wolfe asked.

“Everett had called me at home in a panic and wanted me to help keep him from this... Hirsch. So that’s how we both ended up staying at Elaine’s house for a day or so, and when these two men came barging in, Everett went out the back way, so they never saw him. I never saw him again, either,” Maureen said in a somber tone.

“When I found out what had happened to him — the shooting was all over Greenwich Village, as you can imagine — I panicked again and left the Greenwich Village house by the back door so as not to be seen in case Hirsch was watching the place. I stayed with Sofia and Stanley for a couple of nights and then called Lily, who took me in.”

“Miss Carr, who do you think killed your brother?” Wolfe asked.

“Don’t try to pin this on me, damn it,” Hirsch interrupted. “Why would I want to get rid of someone who owed me money? That makes no sense.”

Once again, Wolfe ignored Hirsch, giving Maureen a questioning look.

“I really have no idea who did it. I saw so little of Everett that I don’t know anything about who his friends were — or his enemies, assuming that he had some enemies, given what happened.”

“Mr. Jurek, did you know Everett Carr?” Wolfe asked.

Stan Jurek flinched, surprised by being brought into the conversation. “Uh, well, I had met him, but I can’t say that I really knew the man.”

“What were the circumstances of your having met?”

“We both, well... we like to bet on the horses. We ran into each other in a... a bookie joint.”

“Would you say you were successful in your wagering endeavors?”

Jurek hunched his shoulders. “Well, I’ve had some good days and some not-so-good days.”

“You must have learned during your conversations that Mr. Carr was related to your wife’s employer.”

“Yeah, you know, we did. What a coincidence in a city this large, huh? We laughed about it, although I got the impression that the Carrs weren’t very close.”

“From our earlier conversation, I learned that you saw a lot of action during the war, and that you killed a German soldier in hand-to-hand combat,” Wolfe said.

“I did,” San Jurek replied. “It was either him or me.”

“Did you, like so many servicemen, bring home any souvenirs from Europe?”

“Oh, a few,” Jurek said offhandedly. “An iron cross and some medals off a Jerry corpse I came across, and the Luger from the guy I shot.”

“The spoils of war,” Wolfe observed, turning to Sofia. “And you, madam, were most generous in giving Miss Carr a place to stay during a time of turmoil for her.”

Sofia’s face reddened. “Stan and I were happy to do that. She was so frightened.”

“I understand that after she had stayed in your apartment and Mr. Jurek left for work, the two of you took a taxi to a bank. I am most interested in that occurrence.”

Sofia looked down at her lap and kneaded her hands. “I had asked her for some money,” she said hoarsely.

Wolfe nodded. “No doubt you were somewhat strapped financially, not having worked for Miss Carr for several weeks.”

“Yes, yes, that is it,” Sofia said.

“What you’re saying is that my salary isn’t big enough, is that it?” Stan Jurek demanded.

“Miss Carr, may I inquire as to how much money you gave to your housekeeper that day?” Wolfe asked.

“I was hoping this wouldn’t come up,” Maureen replied in a subdued tone. “I withdrew five thousand dollars on our trip to the bank.”

“What!” It was Jurek. “We’re not broke, that’s just plain charity,” he said sharply to his wife.

“How dire is your situation?” Wolfe asked Sofia.

“Pretty bad,” she said, again in a soft voice.

“Because of your husband’s gambling?”

“Now wait a minute! We did not come in here so that you could air our dirty linen in public,” Jurek said, standing as if to leave.

“Sit down!” Cramer spat. “Nobody leaves until I say so.”

“Oh, so this really is your party, after all,” Hirsch said, “despite Wolfe’s claim that you and your sergeant are just here as observers. What a lot of hooey!”

“Perhaps Inspector Cramer misspoke,” Wolfe said in a conciliatory tone. “Mr. Jurek, you mentioned that among the items you brought back from the war is a Luger pistol.”

“Yes, and it’s a dandy,” he said, having calmed down a bit and being happy to talk about his military exploits. “I’ve thought about putting it in a glass case, along with the iron cross and the medals I took off the guy’s uniform. Kind of like trophies.”

“But you have never fired the weapon?” Wolfe asked.

“Hell no, although the bullets are still in it.”

“Mr. Carr was killed by a weapon that fired nine-millimeter shells, the caliber used in a Luger,” Wolfe said.

“I suppose there are lots of Lugers around,” Jurek said. “What are you trying to say?”

“I am simply making an observation, sir. Mrs. Jurek, did you ever have occasion to meet Mr. Carr?”

Sofia stiffened. “I... do not believe so.”

“But you knew who he was?”

“Oh yes, Stan had mentioned him to me.”

“Did they meet often?”

“I don’t know that.”

“And you are sure you have never met Mr. Carr?” Wolfe repeated his earlier question.

“I... I...” Sofia began to sniffle.

“Let me suggest this scenario, madam. You have indeed met Everett Carr. You felt the man was a bad influence upon your husband by encouraging his gambling on the horses, a habit that has wreaked havoc on your family’s finances.”

“Stop this!” Stan Jurek shouted. “I will not let—”

“Mr. Jurek, if you are unable to control yourself, I will ask Mr. Goodwin and Mr. Panzer to forcibly relocate you to the front room until I have concluded,” Wolfe said. Jurek had been hyperventilating, and after Wolfe’s threat, he slowly returned to normal breathing.

“To continue with my scenario, madam, you contrived to meet Mr. Carr — I will leave it to the police to determine how that was accomplished — and the two of you met in a passageway between buildings in Greenwich Village. You of course knew about your husband’s prized Luger, and you took it with you to the rendezvous.

“Your plan was to insist that Mr. Carr stop meeting your husband and abetting his gambling proclivities. You planned to threaten him with the Luger to underscore the seriousness of your demand. But—”

“Please!” This time, it was Sofia who interrupted. “Please, that is enough. You are right, you are right, I did have the gun in my hand, but I just wanted to use it to, to threaten him. But do you know what that man did? He laughed at me, and he grabbed for the gun. He said, ‘What is a tiny little lady like you doing with such a big, bad weapon? You are nothing but a silly goose.’ That is what he called me — a silly goose! We wrestled for the gun, and at that moment, I hated him even more than before. I tried to pull the gun back as he kept holding on to it, and it... it fired and fired. He fell...”

She broke down and started sobbing as her husband cradled her head in his lap. Tears rolled down his cheeks as well.

Wolfe, who can’t stand scenes like the one that was unfolding before him, got up and walked out of the office.

For the first several seconds after Wolfe departed, there was what I could only term stunned silence. The lone sounds were the muffled crying of Sofia Jurek and the muttering of her husband.

Finally, Inspector Cramer spoke. “Purley, call headquarters and ask them to bring a policewoman here — and right now!” Stebbins looked questioningly at me, and I nodded in the direction of my desk, a signal of tacit permission for him to use my phone. Despite the differences Purley and I have had over the years, and they have been doozies, sometimes our hostilities must be suspended. This was one of those times.

Lily came over to Maureen and put an arm on her shoulder, then whispered something in her ear. Miles Hirsch and Harley Everts rose, and, wearing a sneer, Hirsch looked around and said to Cramer, “Bet you thought you were going to get me tonight, didn’t you? Sorry I had to spoil your evening, copper.”

“Be smug while you still can,” the inspector retorted as the gambler walked out. “Your day will come.”

Stebbins finished his call and, shaking his head, he looked down at the Jureks, who were still clinging to each other. Eric Mason came over to Maureen, and the two of them repaired to the sofa and huddled in a conversation that I made no attempt to eavesdrop on.

Lily came and stood with me, saying, “I thought Mr. Wolfe was pretty hard on Sofia, didn’t you?”

“It was not fun to watch, for sure. But then, Sofia was pretty hard on Everett Carr as well,” I said.

“But she was trying to protect her husband.”

“I will grant you that, and I suppose that eventually it will be up to a jury to decide her fate. Now if you will excuse me, my dear. I must make a call to Lon Cohen at the Gazette, who may very well be expecting to hear from me. He will, of course, call Inspector Cramer and be able to scoop the competition when his early edition comes out around midday tomorrow. He will love the fact that it is now too late for the morning papers like the Times and Daily News to get anything into print tonight. And most important, Lon will be in Nero Wolfe’s debt, at least for a while.”