Talbott,” Wolfe snapped.
“I don’t know,” Talbott admitted, “but I suppose they had to. I’m still trembling at how lucky I was that I got to bed late that Monday night - I mean a week ago, the night before Keyes was killed. If I had been riding with him I’d be in jail now, and done for. It’s a question of timing.”
Talbott compressed his lips and loosened them. “Oh, boy! The mounted cop saw Keyes riding in the park near Sixty-sixth Street at ten minutes past seven.
Keyes was killed near Ninety-sixth Street. Even if he had galloped all the way he couldn’t have got there, the way that bridle path winds, before seven-twenty.
And he didn’t gallop, because if he had the horse would have shown it, and he didn’t.” Talbott twisted around. “You’re the authority on that, Wayne. Casanova hadn’t been in a sweat, had he?”
“You’re telling it,” was all he got from Wayne Safford.
“Well, he hadn’t,” Talbott told Wolfe. “Wayne is on record on that. So Keyes couldn’t have reached the spot where he was killed before seven-twenty-five.
There’s the time for that, twenty-five minutes past seven.”
“And you?” Wolfe inquired.
“Me, I was lucky. I often rode in the park with Keyes at that ungodly hour - two or three times a week. He wanted me to make it every day, but I got out of it about half the time. There was nothing social or sociable about it. We would walk our horses side by side, talking business, except when he felt like trotting. I live at the Hotel Churchill. I got in late Monday night, but I left a call for six o’clock anyway, because I hadn’t ridden with Keyes for several days and didn’t want to get him sore. But when the girl rang my phone in the morning I was just too damn sleepy, and I told her to call the riding academy and say I wouldn’t be there, and to call me again at seven-thirty. She did so,
and I still didn’t feel like turning out but I had to because I had a breakfast date with an out-of-town customer, so I told her to send up a double orange juice. A few minutes later a waiter brought it up. So was I lucky'Keyes was killed uptown at twenty-five past seven at the earliest, and probably a little later. I was in my room at the Churchill, nearly three miles away, at half-past seven. You can have three guesses how glad I was I left that seven-thirty call!”
Wolfe nodded. “You should give the out-of-town customer a discount. In that armor, why did you take the trouble to join this gathering?”
“A switchboard girl and a waiter, for God’s sake!”
Pohl snorted sarcastically.
“Nice honest people, Ferdy,” Talbott told him, and answered Wolfe, “I didn’t.”
“No'You’re not here?”
“Sure I’m here, but not to join any gathering. I came to join Miss Keyes. I don’t regard it as trouble to join Miss Keyes. As for the rest of them, except maybe Broadyke - “
The doorbell rang again, and since additional gatecrashers might or might not be desirable, I upped myself in a hurry, stepped across and into the hall,
intercepted Fritz just in time, and went to the front door to take a look through the panel of one-way glass. Seeing who it was out on the stoop, I fastened the chain bolt, pulled the door open the two inches the Chain would permit, and spoke through the crack. “I don’t want to catch cold.”
“Neither do I,” a gruff voice told me. “Take that damn bolt off.”
“Mr. Wolfe is engaged,” I said politely. “Will I do?”
“You will not. You never have and you never will.”
“Then hold it a minute. I’ll see.”
I shut the door, went to the office, and told Wolfe, “The man about the chair,”
which was my favorite alias for Inspector Cramer of Homicide.
Wolfe grunted and shook his head. “I’ll be busy for hours and can’t be interrupted.”
I returned to the front, opened to the crack again, and said regretfully,
“Sorry, but he’s doing his homework.”
“Yeah,” Cramer said sarcastically, “he
“I don’t know,” Talbott admitted, “but I suppose they had to. I’m still trembling at how lucky I was that I got to bed late that Monday night - I mean a week ago, the night before Keyes was killed. If I had been riding with him I’d be in jail now, and done for. It’s a question of timing.”
Talbott compressed his lips and loosened them. “Oh, boy! The mounted cop saw Keyes riding in the park near Sixty-sixth Street at ten minutes past seven.
Keyes was killed near Ninety-sixth Street. Even if he had galloped all the way he couldn’t have got there, the way that bridle path winds, before seven-twenty.
And he didn’t gallop, because if he had the horse would have shown it, and he didn’t.” Talbott twisted around. “You’re the authority on that, Wayne. Casanova hadn’t been in a sweat, had he?”
“You’re telling it,” was all he got from Wayne Safford.
“Well, he hadn’t,” Talbott told Wolfe. “Wayne is on record on that. So Keyes couldn’t have reached the spot where he was killed before seven-twenty-five.
There’s the time for that, twenty-five minutes past seven.”
“And you?” Wolfe inquired.
“Me, I was lucky. I often rode in the park with Keyes at that ungodly hour - two or three times a week. He wanted me to make it every day, but I got out of it about half the time. There was nothing social or sociable about it. We would walk our horses side by side, talking business, except when he felt like trotting. I live at the Hotel Churchill. I got in late Monday night, but I left a call for six o’clock anyway, because I hadn’t ridden with Keyes for several days and didn’t want to get him sore. But when the girl rang my phone in the morning I was just too damn sleepy, and I told her to call the riding academy and say I wouldn’t be there, and to call me again at seven-thirty. She did so,
and I still didn’t feel like turning out but I had to because I had a breakfast date with an out-of-town customer, so I told her to send up a double orange juice. A few minutes later a waiter brought it up. So was I lucky'Keyes was killed uptown at twenty-five past seven at the earliest, and probably a little later. I was in my room at the Churchill, nearly three miles away, at half-past seven. You can have three guesses how glad I was I left that seven-thirty call!”
Wolfe nodded. “You should give the out-of-town customer a discount. In that armor, why did you take the trouble to join this gathering?”
“A switchboard girl and a waiter, for God’s sake!”
Pohl snorted sarcastically.
“Nice honest people, Ferdy,” Talbott told him, and answered Wolfe, “I didn’t.”
“No'You’re not here?”
“Sure I’m here, but not to join any gathering. I came to join Miss Keyes. I don’t regard it as trouble to join Miss Keyes. As for the rest of them, except maybe Broadyke - “
The doorbell rang again, and since additional gatecrashers might or might not be desirable, I upped myself in a hurry, stepped across and into the hall,
intercepted Fritz just in time, and went to the front door to take a look through the panel of one-way glass. Seeing who it was out on the stoop, I fastened the chain bolt, pulled the door open the two inches the Chain would permit, and spoke through the crack. “I don’t want to catch cold.”
“Neither do I,” a gruff voice told me. “Take that damn bolt off.”
“Mr. Wolfe is engaged,” I said politely. “Will I do?”
“You will not. You never have and you never will.”
“Then hold it a minute. I’ll see.”
I shut the door, went to the office, and told Wolfe, “The man about the chair,”
which was my favorite alias for Inspector Cramer of Homicide.
Wolfe grunted and shook his head. “I’ll be busy for hours and can’t be interrupted.”
I returned to the front, opened to the crack again, and said regretfully,
“Sorry, but he’s doing his homework.”
“Yeah,” Cramer said sarcastically, “he
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