The Golden Spiders (Crime Line) by Rex Stout

Author:Rex Stout
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Private investigators, Goodwin, Mystery & Detective, Nero (Fictitious character), New York (N.Y.), Archie (Fictitious character), Political, Fiction, Wolfe, Mystery fiction, Private investigators - New York (State) - New York, Crime, General
ISBN: 9780553277807
Publisher: Crimeline
Published: 1995-06-01T05:07:34+00:00

Chapter 10

The tone and wording of Wolfe’s command had of course warned me what to expect, so I wasn’t surprised at the dirty look he gave me as I entered the office. Paul Kuffner, in the red leather chair, didn’t turn on the smile of enthusiastic approval he had favored me with Saturday, but I wouldn’t have called his expression hostile. I suppose sound public relations rule out open hostility to a fellow being unless he actually chews on your ear. One little bite wouldn’t be enough.

As I sat at my desk Wolfe spoke. “Don’t sit there, Archie. Your right to sit at that desk is suspended.” He pointed to one of the yellow chairs. “Move, please.”

I was astounded. “What! What’s the idea?”

“Move, please.” He was grim.

I told my face that in addition to being astounded I was hurt and bewildered, as I arose, went to the yellow chair, lowered myself, and met his withering gaze. His tone matched. “Mr. Kuffner has made a shocking accusation. I want you to hear it from him. Mr. Kuffner?”

It pained Kuffner to have to say it. His thick wide mouth puckered, making an arc of his plucked-eyebrow mustache. He addressed me, not Wolfe. “I am informed that you made an offer this morning to a woman whose veracity I rely upon. She says that you offered to tell her all about the talk Mrs. Fromm had with Mr. Wolfe last Friday, if she would first pay you five thousand dollars in cash.”

I did not leap from my chair in indignation. Being a veteran detective of wide experience under the guidance of Nero Wolfe, I should be able to meet a contemptible frame-up with some poise. I raised my chin a quarter of an inch and asked him, “What’s the woman’s name?”

He shook his head. “I haven’t told Mr. Wolfe because she requested me not to. Of course you know it.”

“I’ve forgotten. Tell me.”

“No.”

“For God’s sake.” I was mildly disgusted. “If you were a United States Senator, naturally I wouldn’t expect you to name my accuser, but since you’re not, go climb a tree.”

Kuffner was distressed but stubborn. “It seems to me quite simple. All I ask you to do is answer the question, did you make such an offer to any woman this morning?”

“Okay, say I answer it. Then you say that some man told you that I stole the cheese out of his mousetrap last night, and did I, and I answer that. Then you say that some horse told you that I cut off his tail-”

“That will do,” Wolfe put in. “He does have a point, Mr. Kuffner. Anonymous accusations are in questionable taste.”

“It’s not anonymous to me. I know her.”

“Then name her.”

“I was asked not to.”

“If you promised not to I’m afraid we’re at an impasse. I’m not surprised that Mr. Goodwin makes this demand; he would be a ninny if he didn’t. So that ends it. I shall not pursue it. If you are not justified in expecting an answer to an anonymous accusation, neither am I.

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