Plot It Yourself

He ditched the cigarette. “As I said, nauseous. Sandier said he would burn it in my presence if I said the word, but I wouldn’t trust the bastard. He said he and his secretary would sign affidavits that they had never seen the outline before and it must have been sneaked into the file by somebody, but what the hell, I was somebody. I took it to my lawyer, and he had a talk with Sandier, whom he knew pretty well, and the secretary. He didn’t think that either of them had a hand in the plant, and I agreed with him. But also he didn’t think we could count on Sandier not to get word to Rennert that the outline had been found, and I agreed with that too. And that’s what the bastard did, because in September Rennert brought an action for damages, and he wouldn’t have done that if he hadn’t known he could get evidence about the outline. A million dollars. My lawyer has entered a countersuit, and I paid a detective agency six thousand dollars in three months trying to get support for it, with no luck. My lawyer thinks we’ll have to settle.”

“I dislike covering ground that has already been trampled,” Wolfe said. “You omitted a detail. The outline resembled your play?”

“It didn’t resemble it, it was my play, without the dialogue.”

Wolfe’s eyes went to Harvey. “That makes four. You said five?”

Harvey nodded. “The last one is fresher, but one member of the cast is the same as in the first one. Alice Porter. The woman who got eighty-five thousand dollars out of Ellen Sturdevant. She’s coming back for more.”

“Indeed.”

“Yes. Three months ago the Victory Press published Knock at My Door, a novel by Amy Wynn. Amy?”

Amy Wynn’s nose twitched. “I’m not very good…” She stopped and turned to Imhof, at her left. “You tell it, Reuben.”