Beebe lifted a hand to adjust his cheaters. “I won’t say what it was that cured me of my infatuation for Ann Savage. It was — a personal thing, and it was enough to cure me good. I only wish to God it had happened sooner. Of course I couldn’t stop the probate of the will without ruining myself. In May the estate was distributed, and later that month Ann married Norman Horne. That ended that business, I thought. I had had my lesson, and it had been a tough one.”
He pulled his narrow shoulders back. “Then, two years later, this jolt came. Sidney was alive and would soon be in New York. You can imagine how it hit me, or maybe you can’t. I finally got it in focus enough to see that I had only two choices: either fall out of my office window or tell Sidney exactly how it had happened. Meanwhile I had to go through all the motions of talking it over with them and listening to all their crazy suggestions. It wasn’t until Monday, day before yesterday, that I decided, and I phoned Ann the next morning, yesterday, that I was going to see Sidney that evening and tell him the whole story. Then came the news that Sidney had been murdered. I don’t know who killed him. All I know is what I’m telling you, and of course for me that’s enough.” He stopped for his mouth to do little spasms. He tagged it. “As a counselor-at-law, I’m through.”
I was a little disappointed at Norman Horne. Surely he might have been expected to react manfully and promptly to such an indictment of his attractive wife, but he wasn’t even looking at Beebe. He was looking at her, there beside him, and it was not a gaze of loyal and trusting faith. It was just as well that she didn’t see it.
She didn’t see it because her eyes were on Wolfe. “Is he through?” she asked.
“Apparently, madam, yes. At least for the moment. Would you like to comment?”
“I don’t want to make a speech. I don’t think I need to. Just that he’s a liar. Just lies.”
Wolfe shook his head. “I doubt if that’s adequate. It wasn’t all lies, you know. Mr. Karnow did make a new will; you and Mr. Beebe were engaged to marry but didn’t; the estate was distributed under the terms of a previous will, with you as a legatee; and Mr. Karnow did return alive and was murdered. I strongly advise you either to keep silent, even though that would expose you to an adverse presumption, or to tell the truth without reservation. You warned Mr. Beebe of the hazard of an improvised complex lie. I urge you to heed your own warning. Now?”
She glanced aside at her husband, but he had focused on Wolfe. Her head swiveled for a glance to her left, at her mother, but that wasn’t met either. She looked at Wolfe. “You’re quite a performer, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” he said.
“I believe you already know the truth.”