The Mother Hunt (Rex Stout Library)

Not necessary. It could take a week, a month, a year.

All right. My lawyer says keeping the baby on a temporary basis can be extended a month at a time.

Wolfe picked up the slip of paper, glared at it, put it down, and moved the glare to her. You should have come to me sooner, if at all.

I didn't decide to until yesterday, definitely.

Possibly too late. Sixteen days have passed since Sunday, May twentieth. Was it daylight when the phone call came?

No, in the evening. A little after ten o'clock.

Male voice or female?

I'm not sure. I think it was a man trying to sound like a woman or a woman trying to sound like a man, I don't know which.

If you had to guess?

She shook her head. I can't even guess.

What was said? Verbatim.

I was alone in the house because the maid was out. When I answered the phone I said, Mrs. Valdon's residence.' The voice said, Is this Mrs. Valdon?' and I said yes, and the voice said, Look in your vestibule, there's something there,' and hung up. I went down to the vestibule, and there it was. When I saw it was a live baby I took it in and called my doctor, and.

If you please. Had you been in the house all day and evening?

No. I had been in the country for the weekend. I got home around eight o'clock. I hate Sunday traffic after dark.

Where in the country?

Near Westport. At Julian Haft's place he publishes my husband's books.

Where is Westport?

Her eyes widened a little in surprise. Mine didn't. What he doesn't know about the metropolitan area would fill an atlas. Why, Connecticut, she said. Fairfield County.

What time did you leave there?

A little after six o'clock.

Driving? Your own car?

Yes.

With a chauffeur?

No. I have no chauffeur.

Was anyone with you in the car?

No, I was alone. She gestured with the wedding-ring hand. Of course you're a detective, Mr. Wolfe, I'm not, but I don't see the point of all this.

Then you haven't used your brain. He turned. Tell her, Archie.