He had to clear his throat some more. “She was delighted, clapping her hands and making little childish cries of glee, and then her mother came, coming to get her, and with her was the husband and father, Mr. Nathan Eads. And little Priscilla ran to him, to her father, displaying her beautiful green necklace, and do you know what she said to him?”
“No.”
“She said, ‘Daddy, look what Jay gave me! Oh, Daddy, you can’t make Jay go with the others! Daddy, you must keep Jay!’ And I was kept! I was the youngest man in my section, and some of my seniors had to go, but I was kept! That, Mr. Wolfe, was the first time I ever saw Priscilla Eads. You can imagine how I felt about her. You can imagine how I have felt about her ever since, through all the years, in spite of all the difficulties and frictions and disagreements. That green necklace, just a scrap of yarn, I put around her little neck! I have of course told this to the police, and they have verified it. You can imagine how I feel now, knowing that I am actually suspected of being capable of killing Priscilla Eads.” He extended his hands, and they fluttered. “With these hands! These hands that tied that necklace on her twenty years ago!”
He got up and went to the refreshment table and used the hands, one to hold a glass and the other to pour rye and splash in a little water. Returning to his chair, he gulped half of it down.
“Well, sir?” Wolfe prodded him.
“I have no more to say,” he declared.
“You’re not serious.” Wolfe was flabbergasted.
“Oh, yes, he is.” Viola Duday was grimly gratified. “For three years he has written most of the copy for Softdown advertising — but I don’t suppose you read advertisements.”
“Not ardently.” Wolfe eyed Brucker. “Manifestly, sir, either your mental processes are badly constipated or you think mine are. Let’s jump twenty years to day before yesterday. Tuesday afternoon you told Mr. Goodwin that you five people — Mr. Helmar was not present, but Miss O’Neil was — had been discussing the murder and had entertained the notion that Miss Eads had been killed by her former husband, Mr. Hagh. You mentioned—”
“Who said that?” Eric Hagh was reacting. He passed between Pitkin and Miss Duday to confront them, and his blue eyes swept the arc as he repeated his challenge. “Who said that?”