“It will be difficult without giving a false impression, but I’ll try. I don’t want to give the impression that I think it probable that one of my business associates is a murderer, but facts are facts. Although Priscilla was not fond of me personally, she had great confidence in my intelligence and ability. Also she thought that women should have more positions of power in all fields. And in addition, when she decided some eighteen months ago to take an interest in the affairs of Softdown and learn the ropes, she resented it that the men — and especially the four men present here — treated her with what she regarded as servility but did not conceal—”
Two of them made noises. She halted. Wolfe darted a glance at them. They subsided.
“But did not conceal their doubt of her ability to understand the mysterious process of making and selling towels. If I shared their doubt at all I had brains enough not to show it, and Priscilla appreciated that. More and more she came to me, and only to me, for her lessons and experience. The result was that I had reason to expect great personal advantage from her approaching assumption of ownership and active control. As for what these men had to expect, they can tell you that.”
She twisted her lips, considering. “I might add this. In nineteen forty-one when Mr. Eads was alive and I was assistant to the president, my salary was forty thousand dollars. Last year, nineteen fifty-one, with Mr. Helmar in control as trustee, it was eighteen thousand. Priscilla told me that my beginning salary as president would be fifty thousand. Mr. Brucker’s is sixty-five.”
Wolfe grunted, a little peevishly I thought, possibly at the news that a mere towel merchant was making half as much as him. He asked, “Did these gentlemen know that Miss Eads intended to put you in charge?”
“I’d rather let them answer that. Except — if they say no, may I speak to it?”
“Yes. Go on, Miss Duday.”
“Well — as for opportunity, I understand that the theory is that the same person killed both of them, and that Margaret Fomos was killed after half-past ten, and Priscilla was killed before two o’clock. During those three and a half hours I—”
“If you please,” Wolfe cut in. “We won’t spend time on that.”
“No?” Her brows went up.