Monday afternoon that she didn't look her age, forty-seven. She did now. Her gray eyes were just as sharp and competent, and she kept her shoulders just as straight, but she seemed to have creases and wrinkles I hadn't observed before. Of course it could have been the light angle, or possibly it was looking through the waterfall.)
NORA: If we're assuming that I'm right, that man (indicating Orrie) can't be Archie Goodwin, and I don't know who he is. I haven't got his picture in my scrapbook. I'll tell you why I came.
WOLFE: That's reasonable, certainly. Archie, I'm afraid you'll have to leave us.
(Poor Orrie. As Orrie Cather he had been chased twice, and now he was chased as Archie Goodwin. His only hope now was to be cast as Nero Wolfe. When he was out and the door shut Nora spoke.)
NORA: All right, I'll tell you. Right after lunch today I went on an errand, and when I got back Mr. Jarrell told me that the bullet that killed Jim Eber was a thirty-eight. That was all he told me, just that. But I knew why he told me, it was because his own gun is a thirty-eight. He has always kept it in a drawer of his desk. I saw it there Wednesday afternoon. But it wasn't there Thursday morning, yesterday, and it hasn't been there since. Mr. Jarrell hasn't asked me about it, he hasn't mentioned it. I don't know-
WOLFE: Haven't you mentioned it'
(Orrie was at my elbow.)
NORA: No. If I mentioned it, and he had taken it himself, he would think I was prying into matters that don't concern me. I don't know whether he took it himself or not. But yesterday afternoon a man from Horland's Protective Agency delivered some pictures that must have been taken by the camera that works automatically when the door of the library is opened. The clock above the door said sixteen minutes past six. The pictures showed the door opening and a rug coming in-just the rug, flat, held up perpendicular, hanging straight down. Of course there was someone behind it. Archie Goodwin looked at the pictures, and of course he has told you all about it.
WOLFE: On our assumption, yes.
NORA: The camera must have taken them the day before, at sixteen minutes past six Wednesday afternoon. At that hour I am always up in my room, washing and changing, getting ready to go to the lounge for cocktails. So is everyone else, nearly always. So there it is, take it altogether. On Monday Archie Goodwin comes as the new secretary under another name. Thursday morning Mr. Jarrell's gun is gone. Thursday afternoon the pictures come, taken at a time when I was up in my room alone. Friday morning, today, the news comes that Jim Eber has been murdered, shot. Also this morning Archie Goodwin isn't there, and Mr. Jarrell says he has sent him on a trip. And this afternoon Mr. Jarrell tells me that Jim was shot with a thirty-eight.
(The gray eyes were steady and cold. I had the feeling that if they aimed my way they would see me right through the picture, though I knew they couldn't.)
NORA: I'm not frightened, Mr. Wolfe. I don't scare easily. And I know you wouldn't deliberately conspire to have me accused of murder, and neither would Archie Goodwin. But all those things together, I wasn't going to just wait and see what happened. It wouldn't have helped any to say all this to Mr. Jarrell. I know all about his business affairs, but this is his personal life, his family, and I don't count. I'd rather not have him know I came to you, but I don't really care. I've worked long enough anyhow. Was Archie Goodwin there because Mr. Jarrell hired you, or was it someone else'
WOLFE: Even granting the assumption, I can't tell you that.
NORA: I suppose not. But he's not there today, so you may be through. In the twenty-two years I have been with Mr. Jarrell I have had many opportunities, especially the past ten years, and my net worth today, personally, is something over a million dollars. I know you charge high fees, but I could afford it. I said I'm not frightened, and I'm not, but something is
NORA: If we're assuming that I'm right, that man (indicating Orrie) can't be Archie Goodwin, and I don't know who he is. I haven't got his picture in my scrapbook. I'll tell you why I came.
WOLFE: That's reasonable, certainly. Archie, I'm afraid you'll have to leave us.
(Poor Orrie. As Orrie Cather he had been chased twice, and now he was chased as Archie Goodwin. His only hope now was to be cast as Nero Wolfe. When he was out and the door shut Nora spoke.)
NORA: All right, I'll tell you. Right after lunch today I went on an errand, and when I got back Mr. Jarrell told me that the bullet that killed Jim Eber was a thirty-eight. That was all he told me, just that. But I knew why he told me, it was because his own gun is a thirty-eight. He has always kept it in a drawer of his desk. I saw it there Wednesday afternoon. But it wasn't there Thursday morning, yesterday, and it hasn't been there since. Mr. Jarrell hasn't asked me about it, he hasn't mentioned it. I don't know-
WOLFE: Haven't you mentioned it'
(Orrie was at my elbow.)
NORA: No. If I mentioned it, and he had taken it himself, he would think I was prying into matters that don't concern me. I don't know whether he took it himself or not. But yesterday afternoon a man from Horland's Protective Agency delivered some pictures that must have been taken by the camera that works automatically when the door of the library is opened. The clock above the door said sixteen minutes past six. The pictures showed the door opening and a rug coming in-just the rug, flat, held up perpendicular, hanging straight down. Of course there was someone behind it. Archie Goodwin looked at the pictures, and of course he has told you all about it.
WOLFE: On our assumption, yes.
NORA: The camera must have taken them the day before, at sixteen minutes past six Wednesday afternoon. At that hour I am always up in my room, washing and changing, getting ready to go to the lounge for cocktails. So is everyone else, nearly always. So there it is, take it altogether. On Monday Archie Goodwin comes as the new secretary under another name. Thursday morning Mr. Jarrell's gun is gone. Thursday afternoon the pictures come, taken at a time when I was up in my room alone. Friday morning, today, the news comes that Jim Eber has been murdered, shot. Also this morning Archie Goodwin isn't there, and Mr. Jarrell says he has sent him on a trip. And this afternoon Mr. Jarrell tells me that Jim was shot with a thirty-eight.
(The gray eyes were steady and cold. I had the feeling that if they aimed my way they would see me right through the picture, though I knew they couldn't.)
NORA: I'm not frightened, Mr. Wolfe. I don't scare easily. And I know you wouldn't deliberately conspire to have me accused of murder, and neither would Archie Goodwin. But all those things together, I wasn't going to just wait and see what happened. It wouldn't have helped any to say all this to Mr. Jarrell. I know all about his business affairs, but this is his personal life, his family, and I don't count. I'd rather not have him know I came to you, but I don't really care. I've worked long enough anyhow. Was Archie Goodwin there because Mr. Jarrell hired you, or was it someone else'
WOLFE: Even granting the assumption, I can't tell you that.
NORA: I suppose not. But he's not there today, so you may be through. In the twenty-two years I have been with Mr. Jarrell I have had many opportunities, especially the past ten years, and my net worth today, personally, is something over a million dollars. I know you charge high fees, but I could afford it. I said I'm not frightened, and I'm not, but something is
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