Not Quite Dead Enough (The Rex Stout Library)

Wolfe grunted, and closed his eyes. Sergeant Bruce sat and waited. Fife had his lips pressed into a straighter line than usual, apparently restraining himself. He wasn’t accustomed to playing audience while someone else asked questions, but probably hadn’t forgotten the time Wolfe had made him look silly in front of three lieutenants and a private who had been tailing a distinguished visitor from Mexico. Wolfe grunted again, this time what I called his number-three grunt, which meant he was displeased, and I had no idea what had riled him. I thought Sergeant Bruce had been courteous, co-operative, and cute. Then he opened his eyes, shifted his center of gravity, and got his hands braced on the chair arms, and of course that explained it. He was displeased because he had decided he was going to stand up.

He did so, rumbling, “That’s all for the present, Miss Bruce. You’ll be available, of course. As you know, General, I promised Mr. Cramer I’d take a look at the ruins. Come, Archie.” He took a step. But Fife stopped him:

“Just a minute, please. All right, Bruce, you may go.”

She arose, hesitated a moment, then faced the general. “May I ask you something, sir?”

“Yes. What?”

“They won’t let me take anything from my room, sir. I have some things-just personal belongings-I was away over the week-end and came direct to the office from the station this morning. Colonel Ryder gave me a passout-but I suppose it isn’t valid-now.”

“All right, go ahead.” Fife sounded fed up. “I’ll send instructions to Colonel Tinkham- By the way-” He squinted at her. “You have no office and no job. Temporarily. You sound intelligent and capable. Are you?”

“Yes, sir.”

“The devil you are. We’ll see. Report in my anteroom tomorrow morning. If you have favorite tools, bring them with you. You’d better get them out of there now, that place will be cleaned up tonight. Tell Colonel Tinkham-no, I’ll tell him. You may go.”

She saluted, whirled, and went out like a soldier.

Fife waited until the door had closed behind her before he spoke to Wolfe. “You were saying something. Before we had Bruce come in.”

“Nothing of importance.” Wolfe was curt, as always when he talked standing up. “Accident, no. Suicide, possibly. Murder? It appears that anyone might have entered that room when Ryder wasn’t there, without being observed, since Ryder might have gone out by the hall door and left it unlocked.”

“Entered? And then what?”