Wolfe leaned back and clasped his hands behind his head. “You know, Miss Lowell, I did not find the Dazzle Dan saga hopelessly inane. There is a sustained sardonic tone, some fertility of invention, and even an occasional touch of imagination. Monday evening, while Mr. Goodwin was in jail, I telephoned a couple of people who are supposed to know things and was referred by them to others. I was told that it is generally believed, though not published, that the conception of Dazzle Dan was originally supplied to Mr. Koven by Mr. Getz, that Mr. Getz was the continuing source of inspiration for the story and pictures, and that without him Mr. Koven will be up a stump. What about it?”
Pat Lowell had stiffened. “Talk.” She was scornful. “Just cheap talk.”
“You should know.” Wolfe sounded relieved. “If that belief could be validated I admit I would be up a stump myself. To support my claim against Mr. Koven, and to discredit his against me, I need to demonstrate that Mr. Goodwin did not kill Mr. Getz, either accidentally or otherwise. If he didn’t, then who did? One of you five. But all of you had a direct personal interest in the continued success of Dazzle Dan, sharing as you did in the prodigious proceeds; and if Mr. Getz was responsible for the success, why kill him?” Wolfe chuckled. “So you see I’m not silly at all. We’ve been at it only twenty minutes, and already you’ve helped me enormously. Give us another four or five hours, and we’ll see. By the way.”
He leaned forward to press a button at the edge of his desk, and in a moment Fritz appeared.
“There’ll be a guest for dinner, Fritz.”
“Yes, sir.” Fritz went.
“Four or five hours?” Pat Lowell demanded.
“At least that. With a recess for dinner; I banish business from the table. Half for me and half for you. This affair is extremely complicated, and if you came here to get an agreement we’ll have to cover it all. Let’s see, where were we?”
She regarded him. “About Getz, I didn’t say he had nothing to do with the success of Dazzle Dan. After all, so do I. I didn’t say he won’t be a loss. Everyone knows he was Mr. Koven’s oldest and closest friend. We were all quite aware that Mr. Koven relied on him—”
Wolfe showed her a palm. “Please, Miss Lowell, don’t spoil it for me. Don’t give me a point and then try to snatch it back. Next you’ll be saying that Koven called Getz ‘the Squirt’ to show his affection, as a man will call his dearest friend an old bastard, whereas I prefer to regard it as an inferiority complex, deeply resentful, showing its biceps. Or telling me that all of you, without exception, were inordinately fond of Mr. Getz and submissively grateful to him. Don’t forget that Mr. Goodwin spent hours in that house among you and has fully reported to me; also you should know that I had a talk with Inspector Cramer Monday evening and learned from him some of the plain facts, such as the pillow lying on the floor, scorched and pierced, showing that it had been used to muffle the sound of the shot, and the failure of all of you to prove lack of opportunity.”