Over My Dead Body

"There isn't a lot to go on with. Rudolph Faber knew what the princess had done, and he blackmailed her. Up to last evening he had been merely a negotiator, a bidder; that made him boss. He imposed terms on her, and I imagine they weren't generous; he didn't strike me as a generous man. He forced her to tell where that paper was and he tried to get it. The paper was, of course, vital. I presume, Mr Barrett, it was to be attached to the agreement you were drawing up, to validate it?"

John P. didn't answer.

Wolfe shrugged. "So she killed Faber. She made an appointment to meet him in her own apartment and stabbed him. God only knows what she thought she was going to do next. There is no way of telling what goes on in that kind of a head. She seems to be as heedless and hare-brained as a lunatic. She may have counted on the taciturnity of governments and international financiers regarding their privy intrigues, but what the devil did she take me for-a goat on a chain? A creature like that is outside the realm of calculation. I wouldn't have been surprised if she had tried to stab me. Were you able to deal with her on a rational basis, Mr Barrett?"

John P. was regarding him steadily. "I'm waiting for you to say something."

"That's about all there is."

"Bah. You've made a lot of loose accusations, with nothing to support them."

"There's that paper."

"You stole it."

"I didn't. But what if I did? There it is, for evidence."

"Damn flimsy evidence for two murders."

"I know." Wolfe wiggled a finger at him. "See here, Mr Barrett, you're making a blunder. I made a serious threat. I said that a warrant would issue charging your son with murder. I meant, of course, as accessory, which is the same thing. It's obvious that he knew the Princess Vladanka had killed Ludlow. You probably knew it too, but I have no proof that you tried actively to cheat the law. I have got proof that your son did, and three witnesses: Belinda Reade, Madame Zorka, and Mr Goodwin, my assistant-"

"That was only-"

"Quiet, son." John P. didn't move his eyes from Wolfe. "What else?"