delay, charged with the murder of Cyril Orchard. It is obvious that the members of her staff are joined in a conspiracy. At first I assumed that their purpose was to protect her, but I am now convinced that I was wrong. At my office Tuesday evening it was ludicrously transparent that they were all deeply concerned about Miss Fraser’s getting home safely, or so I then thought. I now believe that their concern was of a very different kind. Paragraph.
“That evening, here, Mr. Meadows was unnecessarily explicit and explanatory when I asked him how he decided which bottles to take from the refrigerator. There were various other matters which aroused my suspicion, plainly pointing to Miss Fraser, among them their pretense that they cannot remember who placed the glass and bottle in front of Mr. Orchard, which is of course ridiculous. Certainly they remember; and it is not conceivable that they would conspire unanimously to defend one of their number from exposure, unless that one were Miss Fraser. They are moved, doubtless, by varying considerations—loyalty, affection, or merely the desire to keep their jobs, which they will no longer have after Miss Fraser is arrested and disgraced—and, I hope, punished as the law provides. Paragraph.
“All this was already in my mind, but not with enough conviction to put it to you thus strongly, so I waited until I could have a talk with Miss Shepherd. I have now done that. It is plain that she too is in the conspiracy, and that leaves no doubt that it is Miss Fraser who is being shielded from exposure, since Miss Shepherd would do anything for her but nothing for any of the others. Miss Shepherd has lied to me twice that I am sure of, once when she said that she didn’t know why the glasses that they drank from were changed, and once when she would give no explanation of her contradiction of the others regarding the number of bottles put in the refrigerator. Mr. Goodwin will give you the details of that. Paragraph.
“When you have got Miss Fraser safely locked in a cell, I would suggest that in questioning her you concentrate on the changing of the glasses. That happened nearly a year ago, and therefore it seems likely that the murder of Mr. Orchard was planned far in advance. This should make it easier for you, not harder, especially if you are able to persuade Miss Shepherd, by methods available to you, to tell all she knows about it. I do not— Archie !”
If Nancylee had had a split personality and it had been the gungirl half of her that suddenly sprang into action, I certainly would have been caught with my fountain pen down. But she didn’t pull a gat. All she did was come out of her chair like a hurricane, get to me before I could even point the pen at her, snatch the notebook and hurl it across the room, and turn to blaze away at Wolfe:
“That’s a lie! It’s all a lie!”
“Now, Nan,” came from Mrs. Shepherd, in a kind of shaky hopeless moan.
I was on my feet at the hurricane’s elbow, feeling silly. Wolfe snapped at me:
“Get the notebook and we’ll finish. She’s hysterical. If she does it again put her in the bathroom.”
Nancylee was gripping my coat sleeve. “No!” she cried. “You’re a stinker, you know you are! Changing the glasses had nothing to do with it! And I don’t know why they changed them either—you’re just a stinker—”
“Stop it!” Wolfe commanded her. “Stop screaming. If you have anything to say, sit down and say it. Why did they change the glasses?”
“I don’t know!”
In crossing the room for it I had to detour around Mom, and, doing so, I gave her a pat on the shoulder, but I doubt if she was aware of it. From her standpoint there was nothing left. When I got turned around Nancylee was still there, and from the stiffness of her back she looked put for the day. But as I reached my desk she spoke, no screaming:
“I honestly don’t know why they changed the glasses, because I was just guessing but if I tell
“That evening, here, Mr. Meadows was unnecessarily explicit and explanatory when I asked him how he decided which bottles to take from the refrigerator. There were various other matters which aroused my suspicion, plainly pointing to Miss Fraser, among them their pretense that they cannot remember who placed the glass and bottle in front of Mr. Orchard, which is of course ridiculous. Certainly they remember; and it is not conceivable that they would conspire unanimously to defend one of their number from exposure, unless that one were Miss Fraser. They are moved, doubtless, by varying considerations—loyalty, affection, or merely the desire to keep their jobs, which they will no longer have after Miss Fraser is arrested and disgraced—and, I hope, punished as the law provides. Paragraph.
“All this was already in my mind, but not with enough conviction to put it to you thus strongly, so I waited until I could have a talk with Miss Shepherd. I have now done that. It is plain that she too is in the conspiracy, and that leaves no doubt that it is Miss Fraser who is being shielded from exposure, since Miss Shepherd would do anything for her but nothing for any of the others. Miss Shepherd has lied to me twice that I am sure of, once when she said that she didn’t know why the glasses that they drank from were changed, and once when she would give no explanation of her contradiction of the others regarding the number of bottles put in the refrigerator. Mr. Goodwin will give you the details of that. Paragraph.
“When you have got Miss Fraser safely locked in a cell, I would suggest that in questioning her you concentrate on the changing of the glasses. That happened nearly a year ago, and therefore it seems likely that the murder of Mr. Orchard was planned far in advance. This should make it easier for you, not harder, especially if you are able to persuade Miss Shepherd, by methods available to you, to tell all she knows about it. I do not— Archie !”
If Nancylee had had a split personality and it had been the gungirl half of her that suddenly sprang into action, I certainly would have been caught with my fountain pen down. But she didn’t pull a gat. All she did was come out of her chair like a hurricane, get to me before I could even point the pen at her, snatch the notebook and hurl it across the room, and turn to blaze away at Wolfe:
“That’s a lie! It’s all a lie!”
“Now, Nan,” came from Mrs. Shepherd, in a kind of shaky hopeless moan.
I was on my feet at the hurricane’s elbow, feeling silly. Wolfe snapped at me:
“Get the notebook and we’ll finish. She’s hysterical. If she does it again put her in the bathroom.”
Nancylee was gripping my coat sleeve. “No!” she cried. “You’re a stinker, you know you are! Changing the glasses had nothing to do with it! And I don’t know why they changed them either—you’re just a stinker—”
“Stop it!” Wolfe commanded her. “Stop screaming. If you have anything to say, sit down and say it. Why did they change the glasses?”
“I don’t know!”
In crossing the room for it I had to detour around Mom, and, doing so, I gave her a pat on the shoulder, but I doubt if she was aware of it. From her standpoint there was nothing left. When I got turned around Nancylee was still there, and from the stiffness of her back she looked put for the day. But as I reached my desk she spoke, no screaming:
“I honestly don’t know why they changed the glasses, because I was just guessing but if I tell
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