It did not, of course, indict her for murder, but her tale helped out on that. She had worked in the Keyes office as Victor Talbott’s secretary, and a month ago Keyes had fired her because he suspected her of swiping designs and selling them to Broadyke. When she had demanded proof and Keyes hadn’t been able to produce it, she had proceeded to raise hell, which I could well believe. She had forced her way into his private room at the office so often that he had been compelled to hire a husky to keep her out. She had tried to get the rest of the staff, forty of them, to walk out on him until justice had been done her, and had darned near succeeded. She had tried to get at him at his home but failed. Eight days before his death, on a Monday morning, he had found her waiting for him when he arrived at the Stillwell Riding Academy to get his four legs. With the help of the stable hand, by name Wayne Safford, he had managed to mount and clatter off for the park.
But next morning Annie Audrey was there again, and the next one too. What was biting her hardest, as she explained to Wolfe at the outset, was that Keyes had refused to listen to her, had never heard her side, and was so mean and stubborn he didn’t intend to. She thought he should. She didn’t say in so many words that another reason she kept on showing up at the academy was that the stable hand didn’t seem to mind, but that could be gathered. The fourth morning, Thursday, Vic Talbott had arrived too, to accompany Keyes on his ride. Keyes, pestered by Audrey, had poked her in the belly with his crop; Wayne Safford had pushed Keyes hard enough to make him stumble and fall; Talbott had intervened and taken a swing at Wayne; and Wayne had socked Talbott and knocked him into a stall that hadn’t been cleaned.
Evidently, I thought, Wayne held back when he was boxing in a nicely furnished office on a Kerman rug; and I also thought that if I had been Keyes I would have tried designing an electric horse for my personal use. But the next day he was back for more, and did get more comments from Audrey, but that was as far as it went; and three days later, Monday, it was the same. Talbott wasn’t there either of those two days.
Tuesday morning Audrey got there at a quarter to six, the advantage of the early arrival being that she could make the coffee while Wayne curried horses. They ate cinnamon rolls with the coffee. Wolfe frowned at that because he hates cinnamon rolls. A little after six a phone call came from the Hotel Churchill not to saddle Talbott’s horse and to tell Keyes he wouldn’t be there. At six-thirty Keyes arrived, on the dot as usual, responded only with grimly tightened lips to Audrey’s needling, and rode off. Audrey stayed on at the academy, was there continuously for another hour, and was still there at twenty-five minutes to eight, when Keyes’ horse came wandering in under an empty saddle.
Was Wayne Safford also there continuously? Yes, they were together all the time.
So Audrey and Wayne were fixed up swell. When it came Wayne’s turn he didn’t contradict her on a single point, which I thought was very civilized behavior for a stable hand. He too made the mistake of mentioning cinnamon rolls, but otherwise turned in a perfect score.
When they had gone, more than two hours after midnight, I stood, stretched and yawned good, and told Wolfe, “Five mighty fine clients. Huh?”
He grunted in disgust and put his hands on the rim of his desk to push his chair back.
“I could sleep on it more productively,” I stated, “if you would point. Not at Talbott, I don’t need that. I’m a better judge of love looks than you are, and I saw him looking at Dorothy, and he has it bad. But the clients? Pohl?”
“He needs money, perhaps desperately, and now he’ll get it.”