Nero Wolfe (16): Three Doors to Death by Stout Rex

Nero Wolfe (16): Three Doors to Death by Stout Rex

Author:Stout, Rex [Stout, Rex]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Crime, Detective, Detective Series, Murder, Mystery, Novel
ISBN: 0553251279
Google: NyyEJblTZtoC
Amazon: 0553251279
Barnesnoble: 0553251279
Goodreads: 77622
Publisher: Crimeline
Published: 1947-01-01T00:00:00+00:00


V

“If you don’t tell the police about this at once, I will,” Marko said emphatically. He hit the chair arm with his fist. “This is magnificent! It is a masterpiece of wit!”

I had finished my report, along with the pitcher of milk, and Wolfe had asked questions, such as whether I had seen any bloodstains, inside or out, which the cleaners had overlooked. I hadn’t. Wolfe was leaning back in his chair with his eyes closed, and Marko was pacing back and forth. I was smirking, but not visibly.

“They must release him at once!” Marko exclaimed. “Tell them now! Phone! If you don’t—”

“Shut up,” Wolfe said rudely.

“He’s using his brain,” I informed Marko, “and you’re breaking the rules. Yell at me if you want to, but not at him. It’s not as simple as it looks. If we pass it to the cops it’s out of our hands, and if they’re stubborn and still like the idea of Pompa where are we? We couldn’t get through to that bunch again with anything less than a Sherman tank. If we don’t tell the cops but keep it for our private use, and we monkey around until whoever used a knife on Mrs. Whitten uses it again only more to the point, the immediate question would be how high the judge would set our bail.”

“Including me?” Marko demanded.

“Certainly including you. You especially, because you started the conspiracy to spring Pompa.”

Marko stopped pacing to frown at me. “But you make it impossible. We can’t tell the police, and we can’t not tell the police. Is this what I called a masterpiece?”

“Sure, and you were right. It was so slick that I’m going to ask for a raise. Because there’s a loophole, namely we don’t have to monkey around. We can keep going the way I started. We’ve got a club to use on Mrs. Whitten, which means all of them, and if she hadn’t just been sliced and had her side sewed up we could phone her that we want her down here within the hour, along with the family. As it is, I guess that’s out. The alternative is for Mr. Wolfe and me to get in the car, which is out at the curb, and go there—now.”

I ignored a little grunt from Wolfe’s direction.

“It has been years,” I told Marko, “since I tried to get him to break his rule never to go anywhere outside this house on business, and I wouldn’t waste breath on it now. But this has nothing to do with business. You’re not a client, and Pompa isn’t, and he has told you that he wouldn’t take your money. This is for love, a favor to an old friend, which makes it entirely different. No question of rule-breaking is involved.”

Marko was gazing at me. “You mean go to Mrs. Whitten’s home?”

“Certainly. Why not?”

“Would they let you in?”

“You’re damn right they would, if that doctor has phoned her, and it’s ten to one he did.”

“Would it accomplish anything?”

“The



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