next day, Monday, for the funeral ' and to call on Miss Goren again. Did you get the ice cream then?'
'Look,' he said, 'we'll leave Miss Goren out of this.'
'That's the spirit,' I said warmly. 'I'm all for gallantry. But what happened to the ice cream?'
'I don't know and don't give a damn.'
'Did you see it or touch it at any time after you put it in the refrigerator Saturday afternoon?'
'I did not. And if you ask me, this is a lot of crap. I don't know where that fat slob Wolfe got his reputation, but if this is the way he carries on an investi ' What's the big rush?'
I had got as far as the door. Turning as I opened it, I said politely, 'Nice to see you,' and went.
Backtracking to Tuttle's pharmacy, I found there had been a turnover of customers, but business was still humming. Tuttle's shiny dome loomed behind a showcase of cosmetics. Catching his eye, I crossed over and told him I would like to have a couple of minutes when he was free, and then went to the fountain and ordered a glass of milk. It was nearly all down when he called to me, and beckoned, and I emptied the glass and followed him to the rear, behind the partition. He leaned against a counter and said it was a surprise, seeing me up there.
'A couple of little errands,' I told him. 'To ask Doctor Buhl about the morphine, and to ask you about the ice cream. I've already asked Paul Fyfe. You remember he bought some ice cream at Schramm's Saturday afternoon and took it to Bert's apartment and put it in the refrigerator, intending to take it home with him.'
Tuttle corrected me. 'I remember he said he did. What about it?'
'Mr. Wolfe wants to know what became of it. Paul says he doesn't know. He says he never saw it again after he put it in the refrigerator. Did you?'
'I never saw it at all.'
'I thought you might have. You and your wife stayed there Saturday night. Sunday morning your brother-in-law was there dead, but even so you must have eaten something. I thought you might have gone to the refrigerator for something for breakfast, and you might have noticed the ice cream.'
'We had breakfast sent up.' Tuttle was frowning. 'There was no equipment there for cooking. But now that I think of it, I believe Paul mentioned the ice cream Saturday evening at the dinner table. He said something about my ice cream here not comparing with Schramm's and asked why I didn't carry it, and I told him Schramm's products were sold only at their own stores, and anyway it was too expensive. Then I believe my wife mentioned it on Sunday, when she went to the refrigerator for some ice for drinks.'
'Did you eat any of it Sunday'Or bring it home with you?'
'No. I said I never saw it. We stayed at the apartment until Monday and came home after the funeral.'
'You don't know what became of it?'
'I do not. I suppose it's still there. Unless that man Arrow ' why don't you ask him?'
'I will. But first, since I'm here, I guess I'll ask your wife. Is she around?'
'She's at home, up on Iron Hill Road. I can phone her and tell her you're coming, or you can speak with her on the phone. But I fail to see what that ice cream has to do with the death of my brother-in-law. What's the connection?'
It seemed to me that that reaction was rather late, but it could have been that since he was only an in-law he didn't want to butt in. 'Search me,' I told him. 'I just run errands. Why don't we get your wife on the phone, and I may not have to bother her by going there?'
He turned to a phone on the counter, dialed a number, got it, told his wife I wanted to ask her something, and handed me the transmitter. Louise, not being an in-law, said at once that it was ridiculous to annoy them about something utterly irrelevant, but after a little give and take she told me what she knew, which was nothing. She had never seen the ice cream, though she had probably seen the package. Getting ice from the refrigerator Sunday afternoon, she had noticed a large paper bag on the bottom shelf, and, on
'Look,' he said, 'we'll leave Miss Goren out of this.'
'That's the spirit,' I said warmly. 'I'm all for gallantry. But what happened to the ice cream?'
'I don't know and don't give a damn.'
'Did you see it or touch it at any time after you put it in the refrigerator Saturday afternoon?'
'I did not. And if you ask me, this is a lot of crap. I don't know where that fat slob Wolfe got his reputation, but if this is the way he carries on an investi ' What's the big rush?'
I had got as far as the door. Turning as I opened it, I said politely, 'Nice to see you,' and went.
Backtracking to Tuttle's pharmacy, I found there had been a turnover of customers, but business was still humming. Tuttle's shiny dome loomed behind a showcase of cosmetics. Catching his eye, I crossed over and told him I would like to have a couple of minutes when he was free, and then went to the fountain and ordered a glass of milk. It was nearly all down when he called to me, and beckoned, and I emptied the glass and followed him to the rear, behind the partition. He leaned against a counter and said it was a surprise, seeing me up there.
'A couple of little errands,' I told him. 'To ask Doctor Buhl about the morphine, and to ask you about the ice cream. I've already asked Paul Fyfe. You remember he bought some ice cream at Schramm's Saturday afternoon and took it to Bert's apartment and put it in the refrigerator, intending to take it home with him.'
Tuttle corrected me. 'I remember he said he did. What about it?'
'Mr. Wolfe wants to know what became of it. Paul says he doesn't know. He says he never saw it again after he put it in the refrigerator. Did you?'
'I never saw it at all.'
'I thought you might have. You and your wife stayed there Saturday night. Sunday morning your brother-in-law was there dead, but even so you must have eaten something. I thought you might have gone to the refrigerator for something for breakfast, and you might have noticed the ice cream.'
'We had breakfast sent up.' Tuttle was frowning. 'There was no equipment there for cooking. But now that I think of it, I believe Paul mentioned the ice cream Saturday evening at the dinner table. He said something about my ice cream here not comparing with Schramm's and asked why I didn't carry it, and I told him Schramm's products were sold only at their own stores, and anyway it was too expensive. Then I believe my wife mentioned it on Sunday, when she went to the refrigerator for some ice for drinks.'
'Did you eat any of it Sunday'Or bring it home with you?'
'No. I said I never saw it. We stayed at the apartment until Monday and came home after the funeral.'
'You don't know what became of it?'
'I do not. I suppose it's still there. Unless that man Arrow ' why don't you ask him?'
'I will. But first, since I'm here, I guess I'll ask your wife. Is she around?'
'She's at home, up on Iron Hill Road. I can phone her and tell her you're coming, or you can speak with her on the phone. But I fail to see what that ice cream has to do with the death of my brother-in-law. What's the connection?'
It seemed to me that that reaction was rather late, but it could have been that since he was only an in-law he didn't want to butt in. 'Search me,' I told him. 'I just run errands. Why don't we get your wife on the phone, and I may not have to bother her by going there?'
He turned to a phone on the counter, dialed a number, got it, told his wife I wanted to ask her something, and handed me the transmitter. Louise, not being an in-law, said at once that it was ridiculous to annoy them about something utterly irrelevant, but after a little give and take she told me what she knew, which was nothing. She had never seen the ice cream, though she had probably seen the package. Getting ice from the refrigerator Sunday afternoon, she had noticed a large paper bag on the bottom shelf, and, on
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