Wolfe’s eyes went back and forth again. “Thank you. I believe this is the first time I have ever undertaken to single out a murderer from a group of mostly strangers. It seems a little presumptuous, but let’s see. Mr. Cramer told you I have no authority to insist on answers to questions, but I’ll relieve your minds on that score. I have no questions to ask. Not one. As I go along an occasion for one may arise, but I doubt it.”
Cramer let out a low growl. Eyes went to him, but he didn’t know it. He was fastened on Wolfe.
“I shall indeed ask questions,” Wolfe said, “but of myself, and answer them. This affair is so complex that they could run into the hundreds, but I’ll constrain myself to the minimum. For instance, I know why Mrs. Fromm wore those golden spiders on her ears when she came to see me Friday noon, they were a part of her attempted imposture; but why did she wear them Friday evening to the dinner party at Horan’s? Obviously in the hope of surprising a reaction from someone. Again for instance, why did Mr. Horan go to the garage last night? Because he knew his greed had impelled him to a foolish action, giving Leopold Heim’s name and address to Egan at this juncture, and he was alarmed — as it turned out, with reason. I suppose—”
“I protest!” Horan’s tenor was squeaking. “That’s slander! Inspector Cramer, you say Wolfe speaks on his own responsibility, but you’re responsible for getting us here!”
“You can sue him,” Cramer snapped.
“Mr. Horan.” Wolfe aimed a finger at him. “If I were you I’d stop lathering about your implication in blackmail. On that you’re sunk, and you know it, and now you’re confronted with a much greater danger, identification as the murderer of Peter Drossos. You can’t possibly escape a term in jail, but with my help you may go on living. When we finish here you’re going to owe me something.”
“You’re damned right I am!”
“Good. Don’t try to pay it, either in your sense or in mine. I was about to say, I suppose most of you know nothing about the extortion enterprise that has resulted in the death of three people, so you can’t follow me throughout, but that can wait. One of you will assuredly be able to follow me.”
He leaned forward a little, with his elbows on the chair arms and his ten fingertips resting on the desk. “Now. I don’t pretend that I can do the pointing unaided, but I have had intimations. The other day one of you was at pains to tell Mr. Goodwin of your movements Friday evening and Tuesday afternoon, though there was no earthly reason why you should have bothered. The same one made a strange remark, that it had been fifty-nine hours since Mrs. Fromm had been killed — extraordinary exactitude! Those were worth filing as intimations, but no more.”
He clasped his hands in front of his middle mound. “However, there were two major indications. First, the earrings. Mrs. Fromm bought them on May eleventh. Another woman was wearing them on May nineteenth. She must have got them as a gift or loan from Mrs. Fromm, or obtained them surreptitiously. In any case, Mrs. Fromm had them back and wore them three days later, Friday the twenty-second — and why? To try to impersonate the woman who had been wearing them on Tuesday! Then she knew who that woman was, she had some kind of suspicion about her, and, most important as an indication, she was able to retrieve the earrings, either openly or by stealth, for the purpose of the impersonation.”