“You heard it,” said Sara composedly. “One evening — I think it was in April — I heard my father talking about the loan with the Argentine ambassador, and I told Uncle Noel about it to get money from him. Recently Uncle Noel threatened to expose me — to tell my father how he learned about the loan — and that was why I killed him.”
“I see. And since you did in fact kill him, since his lips are sealed forever, why do you now confess these crimes? Because your conscience bothers you?”
“No. My conscience doesn’t bother me at all. I do it to save my father from disgrace. And my mother too, since she will share it. At the time of committing the crimes I didn’t stop to realize what the consequences would be.”
“You should have,” said Wolfe gravely. “And you should stop now to realize the consequences of your confession. They’d trip you up in two minutes. One thing alone; will your arm reach from Madison Avenue to Rockland County to pull the trigger of a shotgun? What was the phrase you used a while ago? ‘Dumb or impossible or plain silly.’ You’ve run the gamut this time. Think up something else. Great hounds and Cerberus!”
“But if you’ll only help me, we can do it, really we can! I can say I left the shop—”
“Pfui! Miss Dunn, please! I’m doing a job for your father. If you will kindly ask Miss April Hawthorne to come here?”
It took him ten minutes to persuade her out of the room, and at one point I was about to pick her up and carry her. But finally she went.
Wolfe poured beer and muttered, “If they’re all like that...”
“You’re not through with her,” I told him cheerfully. “Don’t forget Skinner and Cramer are downstairs. Five gets you ten she’s in jail before the day’s out, and you’ll have to spring her. She’s our client. We sure picked a bunch of pips this time.”
Before the day was out I wouldn’t have minded a nice quiet cell myself, to give me a chance to think about things.