The Thin Man

16

“First thing,” Guild said as we left his office, “we'll go see Mr. Nunheim. He ought to be home: I told him to stick around till I phoned him.”

Mr. Nunheim's home was on the fourth floor of a dark, damp, and smelly building made noisy by the Sixth Avenue elevated. Guild knocked on the door.

There were sounds of hurried movement inside, then a voice asked: “Who is it?” The voice was a man's, nasal, somewhat irritable.

Guild said: “John.”

The door was hastily opened by a small sallow man of thirty-five or —six whose visible clothes were an undershirt, blue pants, and black silk stockings. “I wasn't expecting you, Lieutenant,” he whined. “You said you'd phone.” He seemed frightened. His dark eyes were small and set close together; his mouth was wide, thin, and loose; and his nose was peculiarly limber, a long, drooping nose, apparently boneless.

Guild touched my elbow with his hand and we went in. Through an open door to the left an unmade bed could be seen. The room we entered was a living-room, shabby and dirty, with clothing, newspapers, and dirty dishes sitting around. In an alcove to the right there was a sink and a stove. A woman stood between them holding a sizzling skillet in her hand. She was a big-boned, full-fleshed, red-haired woman of perhaps twenty-eight, handsome in a rather brutal, sloppy way. She wore a rumpled pink kimono and frayed pink mules with lopsided bows on them. She stared sullenly at us.

Guild did not introduce me to Nunheim and he paid no attention to the woman. “Sit down,” he said, and pushed some clothing out of the way to make a place for himself on an end of the sofa.

I removed part of a newspaper from a rocking-chair and sat down. Since Guild kept his hat on I did the same with mine.

Nunheim went over to the table, where there was about two inches of whisky in a pint bottle and a couple of tumblers, and said: “Have a shot?”

Guild made a face. “Not that vomit. What's the idea of telling me you just knew the Wolf girl by sight?”

“That's all I did, Lieutenant, that's the Christ's truth.” Twice his eyes slid sidewise towards me and he jerked them back. “Maybe I said hello to her or how are you or something like that when I saw her, but that's all I knew her. That's the Christ's truth.”

The woman in the alcove laughed, once, derisively, and there was no merriment in her face.

Nunheim twisted himself around to face her. “All right,” he told her, his voice shrill with rage, “put your mouth in and I'll pop a tooth out of it.”

She swung her arm and let the skillet go at his head. It missed, crashing into the wall. Grease and egg-yolks made fresher stains on wall, floor, and furniture.

He started for her. I did not have to rise to put out a foot and trip him. He tumbled down on the floor. The woman had picked up a paring knife.

“Cut it out,” Guild growled. He had not stood up either. “We come here to talk to you, not to watch this rough-house comedy. Get up and behave yourself.”

Nunheim got slowly to his feet. “She drives me nuts when she's drinking,” he said. “She been ragging me all day.” He moved his right hand back and forth. “I think I sprained my wrist.”

The woman walked past us without looking at any of us, went into the bedroom, and shut the door.

Guild said: “Maybe if you'd quit sucking around after other women you wouldn't have so much trouble with this one.”

“What do you mean, Lieutenant?” Nunheim was surprised and innocent and perhaps pained.

“Julia Wolf.”

The little sallow man was indignant now. “That's a lie, Lieutenant. Anybody that say I ever—”

Guild interrupted him by addressing me: “If you want to take a poke at him, I wouldn't stop on account of his bum wrist: he couldn't ever hit hard anyhow.”

Nunheim turned to me with both hands out. “I didn't mean you were a liar. I meant maybe somebody made a mistake if they—”

Guild interrupted him again: “You wouldn't've taken her if you could've gotten her?”

Nunheim moistened his lower lip and looked warily at the bedroom door. “Well,” he said slowly in a cautiously low voice, “of course she was a classy number. I guess I wouldn't've turned it down.”

“But you never tried to make her?”

Nunheim hesitated, then moved his shoulders and said: “You know how it is. A fellow knocking around tries most everything he runs into.”

Guild looked sourly at him. “You'd done better to tell me that in the beginning. Where were you the afternoon she was knocked off?”

The little man jumped as if he had been stuck with a pin. “For Christ's sake, Lieutenant, you don't think I had anything to do with that. What would I want to hurt her for?”

“Where were you?”

Nunheims loose lips twitched nervously. “What day was she—” He broke off as the bedroom door opened.

The big woman came out carrying a suitcase. She had put on street clothes.

“Miriam,” Nunheim said.

She stared at him dully and said: “I don't like crooks, and even if I did, I wouldn't like crooks that are stool-pigeons, and if I liked crooks that are stool-pigeons. I still wouldn't like you.” She turned to the outer door.

Guild, catching Nunheim's arm to keep him from following the woman, repeated: “Where were you?”

Nunheim called: “Miriam. Don't go. I'll behave, I'll do anything. Don't go, Miriam.”

She went out and shut the door. —“Let me go,” he begged Guild. “Let me bring her back. I can't get along without her. I'll bring her right back and tell you anything you want to know. Let me go. I've got to have her.”

Guild said: “Nuts. Sit down,” He pushed the little man down in a chair. “We didn't come here to watch you and that broad dance around a maypole. Where were you the afternoon the girl was killed?”

Nunheim put his hands over his face and began to cry.

“Keep on stalling,” Guild said, “and I'm going to slap you silly.”

I poured some whisky in a tumbler and gave it to Nunheim.

“Thank you, sir, thank you.” He drank it, coughed, and brought out a dirty handkerchief to wipe his face with. “I can't remember offhand, Lieutenant.” he whined. “Maybe I was over at Charlie's shooting pool, maybe I was here. Miriam would remember if you'll let me go bring her back.”

Guild said: “The hell with Miriam. How'd you like to be thrown in the can on account of not remembering?”

“Just give me a minute. I'll remember. I'm not stalling, Lieutenant. You know I always come clean with you. I'm just upset now. Look at my wrist.” He held up his right wrist to let us see it was swelling. “Just one minute.” He put his hands over his face again.

Guild winked at me and we waited for the little man's memory to work.

Suddenly he took his hands down from his face and laughed. “Holy hell! It would serve me right if you had pinched me. That's the afternoon I was— Wait, I'll show you.” He went into the bedroom.

After a few minutes Guild called: “Hey, we haven't got all night. Shake it up.”

There was no answer.

The bedroom was empty when we went into it and when we opened the bathroom door the bathroom was empty. There was an open window and a fire-escape.

I said nothing, tried to look nothing.

Guild pushed his hat back a little from his forehead and said: “I wish he hadn't done that.” He went to the telephone in the living-room.

While he was telephoning, I poked around in drawers and closets, but found nothing. My search was not very thorough and I gave it up as soon as he had finished putting the police machinery in action.

“I guess we'll find him, all right,” he said. “I got some news. 'We've identified Jorgensen as Kelterman.”

“Who made the identification?”

“I sent a man over to talk to the girl that gave him his alibi, this Olga Fenton, and he finally got it out of her. He says he couldn't shake her on the alibi, though. I'm going over and have a try at her. Want to come along?”

I looked at my watch and said: “I'd like to, but it's too late. Picked him up yet?”

“The order's out.” He looked thoughtfully at me. “And will that baby have to do some talking!”

I grinned at him. “Now who do you think killed her?”

“I'm not worrying,” he said. “Just let me have things to squeeze enough people with and I'll turn up the right one before the whistle blows.”

In the street he promised to let me know what happened, and we shook hands and separated. He ran after me a couple of seconds later to send his very best regards to Nora.