Gambit by Rex Stout Page B

worry, and tell Sally not to - Dan knows what he’s doing. All my love,
    Your Matt I read it twice, folded it, and handed it back to her. “I still say it’s a difference of opinion. Of course you have shown that to your daughter?”
    “Yes.”
    “Have you any idea what the fact is, the fact that your husband says is known only to him and Kalmus?”
    “No.”
    I turned. “Have you, Sally?”
    “No,” she said.
    “Not even a wild guess?”
    “No.”
    “You see why this is wrong,” Mrs. Blount said. “Mr. Kalmus has spoken with me on the phone, and he says that item in the paper has already done harm because everyone will think he has hired Nero Wolfe. So tomorrow the paper must say that it was a mistake, that no one has hired Nero Wolfe. Whatever my daughter has paid him, that doesn’t matter, he can keep it.”
    I looked up at Sally, who was still standing. My mind, still harping on the facts, of course excluding the one known only to Kalmus and Blount, wanted to grab at the excuse to ditch the whole damn mess. If Kalmus already had a fact that would do the trick, that was that; and if he didn’t, the chance that there was one somewhere and Wolfe and I could dig it up looked slimmer than ever. Of course we would have to return the twenty-two grand. Whenever Wolfe sent me on an errand without specific instructions the general instruction was that I was to use my intelligence guided by experience. I would have to go home and tell him that I had done so and had concluded that we should drop it. So I looked up at Sally. If she had been looking at me with any sign of doubt or funk I might have passed. But she had her big brown eyes aimed straight at her mother, no blinking, with her chin up and her lips tight. So I turned to Mrs. Blount and said, “All right, I admit it’s not just a difference of opinion.”
    She nodded. “I was sure you would understand if I showed you that note from my husband.”
    I shook my head. “That’s beside the point. The point is that your daughter has paid Mr. Wolfe twenty-two thousand dollars, and in order to -“
    “I said he could keep it.”
    “He only keeps money he earns. In order to get that amount she cleaned out her bank account and sold her jewelry. A girl doesn’t sell her jewelry just like that.” I snapped my fingers.
    “I’m not telling you now what she told Mr. Wolfe, I’m telling you what I inferred from what she did tell him. She told him three times that Kalmus is in love with you. I inferred that she thinks her father will be convicted of murder not just because Kalmus is incompetent, but because with Blount convicted and sent up either to the chair or for life, you would be loose. So if that’s what -“
    “Stop,” she said. She was sitting straight, stiff, staring at me, frowning. “I’m not sure I understand. Are you saying that Mr. Kalmus wants my husband to be convicted?”
    “No. I’m saying that I believe your daughter thinks he does. So she sold her jewelry. And she certainly deserves -“
    “Stop.” She was on her feet. She moved, across to her daughter, and gripped her arms. “Sally,” she said, “my dear Sally. You can’t think … you can’t!”
    “Yes, I can,” Sally said. “I do. You know he’s in love with you. You know he would do anything, anything, to have you. Are you blind, mother'Are you blind'
    Do you actually not see how men look at you'How Dan Kalmus always looks at you'
    I was going… last week I was going to -“
    A voice came booming, “Anybody home?’ I turned. A man had passed through the arch and was coming. Mrs. Blount said, raising her voice, “We’re busy, Mort,”
    but, not stopping, he said, “Maybe I can help,” and, arriving, kissed her on both cheeks. Sally had backed away. He turned for a look at me, started to say something, stopped, and looked some more. “You’re Archie Goodwin,” he said.
    “I’ve seen you around.” He offered a hand. “I’m Mort Farrow. You may have seen me too,