Over My Dead Body

"I know, and most of the money in the world is in New York, or controlled from here. That's why people come here from all directions with things like this." Wolfe reached into his breast pocket, pulled out a paper and extended it to Cramer. "Keep that. It's evidence. You can't read it. It is signed by Prince Stefan Donevitch and it empowers the princess, his wife, to conclude certain transactions in his name-"

John P.'s lips twitched. "Where did you get that?"

"That doesn't matter, Mr Barrett. Not now." Wolfe went on to Cramer, "Specifically, transactions regarding concessions in Bosnian forests and the transfer of credits held by a firm of international bankers, Barrett & De Russy. The princess came to New York incognito, under an alias, and started negotiations. Because secrecy was essential on account of American restrictions regarding the export of capital in the form of loans, and I suspect other skulduggery besides the violations of those restrictions, she even went to the trouble of pretending to be an immigrant and getting a job in a fencing school. I don't suppose many persons were aware of her true identity, but certainly three were: Mr Barrett here and his son, and a man named Rudolph Faber, who was assisting in the negotiations as a secret agent of the Nazi Government. You see, Barrett & De Russy have financial relations with the Nazis."

Donald began explosively, "We merely act-" But a glance from his father shut him up again.

Wolfe nodded. "I know. Money and morals don't speak… But a British agent named Ludlow got on to it. He not only got on to the princess and what she was up to, he even threatened-I don't know how, but possibly by informing the American Government-to ruin the deal. And that just at the moment when all details had been decided and it was ready for consummation. So she killed Ludlow. I want to make it plain that the princess did that herself. A friend, another young woman, had come from Zagreb with her, also under an alias, but she had no part in the murder. You understand that, Mr Cramer?"

Cramer muttered, "Go on."