Where There's a Will

by Stout Rex

Prescott said to Nero Wolfe, “Your—” He thumbed at me. “This man takes shorthand?”

“Yes. Archie, your notebook, please.”

I leered at Purley and got it out in time to catch Skinner’s opening:

“All I want, Mrs. Dunn, is some facts. I earnestly desire to make it as little painful as possible. There was a gathering of people at your country home in Rockland County last Tuesday, July 11th, was there not?”

“Yes.” June turned to Prescott. “I want to say, Glenn, that I regard it as quite likely that May is right about this being a political ambush.”

“So do I.”

“Then should I answer this gentleman?”

“Yes,” said Prescott grimly. “If you refuse to it will be worse. I’m here and if he — I can stop you. We’ll have a record of it.”

“I wish John was here. I’d like to telephone him.”

“I doubt if you could get him. Trust me for this, June. And don’t forget your son is here. He’s a lawyer too, you know. What’s your advice, Andy?”