“If so, for you to try to withhold it would be pointless.”
“Well, I’d hate to be pointless. You’re right, some of what Jim said was true. He did tell me about the new will, but after the news came that Sidney had been killed in action, not before. He did take it from his safe and let me read it. It did leave everything to Caroline. He said that no one knew its contents except his former secretary, and she had got married and gone to some little town in the South, so she was out of the way. He said there was no other copy of it, and that he was sure Caroline didn’t know about it because of a letter she had shown him from Sidney. He said he would destroy it, and I and my mother and brother would inherit under the previous will, if I would marry him. Do you want to know everything we said?”
“I think just the essential points.”
“Then I don’t need to tell how I really felt about marrying him. I didn’t tell him. I agreed to it. I suppose you don’t care what I thought, but Sidney was dead, and I thought it was only fair for us to get a share. So I agreed, but I never had any intention of marrying Jim Beebe. He wanted an immediate wedding, before he presented the will for probate, but I talked him out of that, and our engagement was announced. When the will had gone through and the estate had been distributed and we had our share, I married Norman Horne. I didn’t know whether Jim had destroyed the new will or not, but that didn’t matter because he wouldn’t dare to produce it then.” She fluttered a hand. “That’s all.”
“Not quite,” Wolfe objected. “The sequel. Mr. Karnow’s return.”
“Oh, yes.” Her tone implied that it was careless of her to overlook that little detail. “Of course Jim killed him. If you mean how I felt about Sidney’s turning up alive, you may not believe it, but in a way I was glad of it, because I always liked him. I was sorry for Caroline and Paul, because I liked them too, but I knew Sidney wouldn’t try to get our share back from us. There was just one person who didn’t dare to face him. Of course Jim did face him when he went to his hotel room, but he wasn’t facing him when he killed him — he shot him in the back of the head.” She turned to Beebe. “Did you tell him about the will, Jim? I’ll bet you didn’t. I’ll bet he never knew.” She turned back to Wolfe. “Will that do for the truth?”
“It’ll do for a malicious lie,” Beebe squeaked.
Wolfe addressed the law. “I would prefer, Mr. Cramer, to turn the issue of veracity over to you. In my opinion, Mr. Beebe fumbled it, and Mrs. Horne didn’t.”
At a later date, in a courtroom, a jury concurred. Justice is a fine thing, but that night in Wolfe’s office it slipped up on one detail. After Cramer and Stebbins had escorted Beebe out, and the others had gone, Caroline Karnow decided that the occasion called for her returning the kiss she had received in that room twelve hours earlier. But she went right past me, around to Wolfe behind his desk, put her arms around his neck, and gave it to him on both cheeks.
“Wrong address,” I said bitterly.