Not Quite Dead Enough (The Rex Stout Library)

“No.” I couldn’t see that hedging was called for. “He doesn’t want it at all. What he wants is Colonel Ryder’s suitcase. Evidently you do too. I guess you’ll have to draw straws for it. That all?”

“Oh, my lord.” She was frowning. “This is an awful fix. But he doesn’t know that you’re bringing it-that you’ve got it.”

“Sure he does.”

“He can’t. You’ve had no chance to tell him you found it.”

“But he knows he sent me for it, therefore he knows it’s on the way or soon will be.”

She shook her head. “You never let up, do you?” Her tone implied that she would love to come out and play after she got her work done. “Of course he can’t be sure. He couldn’t have known I took it, and what if I had put it somewhere else? Which I would have done if I had used my brains, knowing you were around.” She put her hand on my arm, not as for any purpose, just sort of involuntarily, as though it belonged there. She smiled at me as at a comrade. “I suppose you’d be surprised if I offered to give you ten thousand dollars for that carton-and what’s in it-with the understanding that you forget all about it. Wouldn’t you?”

I batted an eye. “I’d be simply dumbfounded.”

“But you’d soon recover. And then what would you say?”

“Well, gosh.” I patted her hand, which was still on my arm. “That would depend. If it was just conversation, I’d think of something appropriate to keep my end going, and start up the car and proceed. If you actually confronted me with the engravings, I’d have to see how I reacted.”

She smiled. “It isn’t likely I’d carry around a wad like that.”

“Certainly not. So forget it.” I started my hand for the dash.

But her hand held my arm. “Wait. You’re too impulsive. It’s a bona fide offer. Ten thousand.”

“Cash?”

“Yes.”

“When and where?”

“I think-” she hesitated. “I can have it in twenty-four hours. A little sooner. Tomorrow afternoon.”

“And meanwhile, the carton?”

“The Day and Night Bank. In safekeeping for joint withdrawal only. We shake hands to pledge good faith.”

I admired her visibly. It showed in my tone too. “Didn’t I see you once walking the high wire at the circus? Maybe it was your sister. Looky. I suppose I could be had, but it isn’t practical. Nero Wolfe would be sure to find out-he finds out everything in the long run-and he’d be sure to tell my poor old mother. If it wasn’t for my mother I’d snap at it. I promised her once I’d never sell out for less than a million. The mortgage on the old farm happens to be a million even.”