“We were in the woods a while,” said Celia, “and then we went on through and came out at the other side. We didn’t see anything until we stumbled on it. I nearly fell and Andy caught me—”
“I don’t need all that,” Wolfe interrupted. “The chief thing is, you were writing letters at five o’clock.” He looked at April. “And you were upstairs taking a nap.”
“Yes. Mr. Stauffer asked me to go for a swim, but I didn’t feel like it. The pond’s dirty.”
“So you went for a swim alone.” Wolfe told Stauffer.
“Yes. The pond is in the opposite direction from the woods, down at the foot of the hill.”
Wolfe chuckled. “The police wanted to know about that, I’ll wager. Don’t resent it. They’re probably making discreet inquiries right now about the opening in Daniel Cullen and Company that Hawthorne’s death makes for you. Will you be made head of the foreign department? Will you be made a partner? Quite a plum — Oh, I’m not asking, but they probably are.”
Stauffer had stiffened. “This is really—”
“Don’t, Mr. Stauffer. What do you expect them to do when they’re after a murderer? You people are lucky. On account of your position and standing. Even if you killed Hawthorne yourself, you probably won’t hear a single impolite word until the district attorney gets you on the witness stand. You might as well escort Miss Hawthorne back to her room. I’m through with you too, Miss Fleet. If I need — Come in!”
The door opened to admit the butler. He was beginning to look as if he wouldn’t mind going back to his ancestral halls for a little vacation.
“Two men to see you, sir, a Mr. Panzer and a Mr. Keems.”