Rex Stout Read Free Page B

as Vail did, and then where are we? The way you look, on edge the way you are. And with that stubborn mouth you’ve got. But I guess I can lead up to it. Yesterday afternoon your wife paid me two hundred dollars.”
    “My wife!—” Dundee goggled at him. “For what?”
    “For nothing. That’s the sad part of it. It happened that I needed the money, so I took it. If you made the money and it’s being wasted, it’s your own fault. I’ve never heard of anything dumber than a man accusing his wife of treachery and claiming to have proof of it, and then refusing to produce the proof or even to discuss it. Whether she’s guilty—”
    “Get out!” Dundee said. His voice trembled with rage.
    Hicks shook his head.
    Dundee stood up. His hands were shaking. “Get out!”
    “No,” Hicks said, not moving and not raising his voice. “You ought to see yourself in a mirror. Your wife thinks you’re out of your head and she may be right. If you handled your business problems the way you’re trying to handle this one, by simply having a fit, you’d have been bankrupt long ago. I’ve come here to make you an offer, and I’m going to make it before I leave.”
    “I don’t want any offer—”
    “How do you know till you’ve heard it? If you’d let your brain cool off a little, you’d realize that I’m in a position to get you what you want. Your wife has paid me money. She has confidence in me. You told her it was useless for her to try to deny she had sold your business secrets to Vail, you knew she had done it; what you wanted from her was the full story so you could decide what to do. What if I can get that out of her? Wouldn’t that help?”
    “I see.” Dundee’s lips worked, and he clamped his jaw to make them stop. He gazed down at the other’s face.
    “That would be worth something, wouldn’t it?” Hicks argued.“But of course you’d have to give me something to work with. For instance, that proof you were going to show her—I’d have to know what that was—I’d have to know enough of what you know to be able to impress her—”
    “Ha,” Dundee said derisively. “You would?”
    “Certainly.”
    “Where did you see Vail?”
    “At his office.”
    “Did my wife send you to him?”
    “No. I was just poking into holes.”
    “Do you expect me to believe that?”
    “I think it’s fairly credible.”
    “I don’t. What are you, a lawyer?”
    “No. I’m just a guy. A sort of a freak. You might say, an outlawyer.” Hicks gestured it away. “I understand your reluctance. You don’t know whether I’m enough of a philosopher to double-cross your wife, or whether I’m trying to pull a fast one on you. That’s a risk you have to take. However, I can prove that I was disbarred from practicing law, and that ought to be a point in my favor. You can check that.”
    Dundee had stopped trembling. His blood, obviously, was under control again; he had no longer the aspect of a man about to clutch a throat or pick up a chair and hurl it. He asked in a hard, even tone:
    “Where did my wife get hold of you?”
    “That’s a long story. I have a—I’ve had some notoriety.”
    “I don’t doubt it. Of course you’re working for Vail.”
    “No. I never saw Vail before today.”
    “I don’t believe it.” Dundee’s nostrils bulged and subsided again. “I’d like to wring your damned neck. Get out of here.”
    “I don’t think—”
    “I said get out.”
    Hicks, his lips pursed into an O as if he were going to whistle, sat for five seconds gazing up at the stubborn jaw and mouth, the cold fury of the contracted pupils in their bloodshot whites. Then he heaved a sigh, lifted himself to his feet in no haste, got his hat from a corner of the desk, and walked out.
    After the door had closed, Dundee stood there without any change of expression, slowly rubbing his palms up and down the sides of his thighs. He kept that up a while, then sat and pulled his phone over and told it, “Get me the