boss. My trusteeship, under the will of my friend Marko Vukcic when he died, will end next year. You know the arrangement; you investigated the murder; you may remember that I brought the murderer back from Yugoslavia.'
'Yeah. Maybe I never thanked you.' Cramer's eyes came to me. 'You go there fairly often-not to Yugoslavia, to Rusterman's. How often?'
I raised one brow. That annoys him because he can't do it. 'Oh, once a week, sometimes twice. I have privileges, and it's the best restaurant in New York.'
'Sure. Were you there today?'
'No.'
'Where were you at five-fifteen this afternoon?'
'In the Heron sedan which Mr. Wolfe owns and I drive. Five-fifteen'Grand Concourse, headed for the East River Drive.'
'Who was with you?'
'Saul Panzer.'
He grunted. 'You and Wolfe are the only two men alive Panzer would lie for. Where had you been?'
'Ball game. Yankee Stadium.'
'What happened in the ninth inning?' He flipped a hand. 'To hell with it. You'd know all right, you'd see to that. How well do you know Max Maslow?'
I raised the brow again. 'Connect it, please.'
'I'm investigating a murder.'
'So I gathered. And apparently I'm a suspect. Connect it.'
'One item in Kenneth Faber's pockets was a little notebook. One page had the names of four men written in pencil. Three of the names had checkmarks in front of them. The last one, no checkmark, was Archie Goodwin. The first one was Max Maslow. Will that do?'
'I'd rather see the notebook.'
'It's at the laboratory.' His voice went up a notch. 'Look, Goodwin. You're a licensed private detective.'
I nodded. 'But that crack about who Saul Panzer would lie for. Okay, I'll file it. I don't know any Max Maslow and have never heard the name before. The other two names with checkmarks?'
'Peter Jay. J-A-Y.'
'Don't know him and never heard of him.'
'Carl Heydt.' He spelled it.
'That's better. Couturier?'
'He makes clothes for women.'
'Including a friend of mine, Miss Lily Rowan. I have gone with her a few times to his place to help her decide. His suits and dresses come high, but I suppose he'd turn out a little apron for three Cs.'
'How well do you know him?'
'Not well at all. I call him Carl, but you know how that is. We have been fellow weekend guests at Miss Rowan's place in the country a couple of times. I have seen him only when I have been with Miss Rowan.'
'Do you know why his name would be in Faber's notebook with a checkmark?'
'I don't know and I couldn't guess.'
'Do you want me to connect Susan McLeod before I ask you about her?'
I had supposed that would be coming as soon as I heard the name Carl Heydt, since the cops had had the notebook for four hours and had certainly lost no time making contacts. Saving me for the last, and Cramer himself coming, was of course a compliment, but more for Wolfe than for me.
'No, thanks,' I told him. 'I'll do the connecting. The first time Kenneth Faber came with the corn, six weeks ago today, the first time I ever saw him, he told me Sue McLeod had got her father to give him a job on the farm. He was very chatty. He said he was a freelance cartoonist, and the cartoon business was in a slump, and he wanted some sun and air and his muscles needed exercise, and Sue often spent weekends at the farm and that would be nice. You can't beat that for a connection. Go ahead and ask me about Susan McLeod.'
Cramer was eying me. 'You're never slow, are you, Goodwin?'
I gave him a grin. 'Slow as cold honey. But I try hard to keep up.'
'Don't overdo. How long have you been intimate with her?'
'Well. There are several definitions for 'intimate.' Which one?'
'You know damn well which one.'
My shoulders went up. 'If you won't say, I'll have to guess.' The shoulders went down. 'If you mean the very worst, or the very best, depending on how you look at it, nothing doing. I have known her three years, having met her when she brought the corn one day. Have you seen her?'
'Yes.'
'Then you know how she looks, and much obliged for the
'Yeah. Maybe I never thanked you.' Cramer's eyes came to me. 'You go there fairly often-not to Yugoslavia, to Rusterman's. How often?'
I raised one brow. That annoys him because he can't do it. 'Oh, once a week, sometimes twice. I have privileges, and it's the best restaurant in New York.'
'Sure. Were you there today?'
'No.'
'Where were you at five-fifteen this afternoon?'
'In the Heron sedan which Mr. Wolfe owns and I drive. Five-fifteen'Grand Concourse, headed for the East River Drive.'
'Who was with you?'
'Saul Panzer.'
He grunted. 'You and Wolfe are the only two men alive Panzer would lie for. Where had you been?'
'Ball game. Yankee Stadium.'
'What happened in the ninth inning?' He flipped a hand. 'To hell with it. You'd know all right, you'd see to that. How well do you know Max Maslow?'
I raised the brow again. 'Connect it, please.'
'I'm investigating a murder.'
'So I gathered. And apparently I'm a suspect. Connect it.'
'One item in Kenneth Faber's pockets was a little notebook. One page had the names of four men written in pencil. Three of the names had checkmarks in front of them. The last one, no checkmark, was Archie Goodwin. The first one was Max Maslow. Will that do?'
'I'd rather see the notebook.'
'It's at the laboratory.' His voice went up a notch. 'Look, Goodwin. You're a licensed private detective.'
I nodded. 'But that crack about who Saul Panzer would lie for. Okay, I'll file it. I don't know any Max Maslow and have never heard the name before. The other two names with checkmarks?'
'Peter Jay. J-A-Y.'
'Don't know him and never heard of him.'
'Carl Heydt.' He spelled it.
'That's better. Couturier?'
'He makes clothes for women.'
'Including a friend of mine, Miss Lily Rowan. I have gone with her a few times to his place to help her decide. His suits and dresses come high, but I suppose he'd turn out a little apron for three Cs.'
'How well do you know him?'
'Not well at all. I call him Carl, but you know how that is. We have been fellow weekend guests at Miss Rowan's place in the country a couple of times. I have seen him only when I have been with Miss Rowan.'
'Do you know why his name would be in Faber's notebook with a checkmark?'
'I don't know and I couldn't guess.'
'Do you want me to connect Susan McLeod before I ask you about her?'
I had supposed that would be coming as soon as I heard the name Carl Heydt, since the cops had had the notebook for four hours and had certainly lost no time making contacts. Saving me for the last, and Cramer himself coming, was of course a compliment, but more for Wolfe than for me.
'No, thanks,' I told him. 'I'll do the connecting. The first time Kenneth Faber came with the corn, six weeks ago today, the first time I ever saw him, he told me Sue McLeod had got her father to give him a job on the farm. He was very chatty. He said he was a freelance cartoonist, and the cartoon business was in a slump, and he wanted some sun and air and his muscles needed exercise, and Sue often spent weekends at the farm and that would be nice. You can't beat that for a connection. Go ahead and ask me about Susan McLeod.'
Cramer was eying me. 'You're never slow, are you, Goodwin?'
I gave him a grin. 'Slow as cold honey. But I try hard to keep up.'
'Don't overdo. How long have you been intimate with her?'
'Well. There are several definitions for 'intimate.' Which one?'
'You know damn well which one.'
My shoulders went up. 'If you won't say, I'll have to guess.' The shoulders went down. 'If you mean the very worst, or the very best, depending on how you look at it, nothing doing. I have known her three years, having met her when she brought the corn one day. Have you seen her?'
'Yes.'
'Then you know how she looks, and much obliged for the
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