Trio For Blunt Instruments Read Free Page A

he said he had been at the district attorney's office for three hours; they had been asking him questions about Mr. Ashby. You know about Mr. Ashby, he said he told you about him when he came here. Of course I already knew about him because I work there. I did work there.'
    'Where?'
    'At the office. That company. Mercer's Bobbins.'
    'Indeed. In what capacity?'
    'I'm a stenographer. Not anybody's secretary, just a stenographer. Mostly typing and sometimes letters for Mr. Busch. My father got me the job through Mr. Mercer.'
    'How long ago?'
    'Two years ago. After I graduated from high school.'
    'Then you knew Mr. Ashby.'
    'Yes. I knew him a little, yes.'
    'About last evening. Your father came home around six. Then?'
    'I had dinner nearly ready, and we talked, and we ate, and then we talked some more. He said there was something he hadn't told the police and he hadn't told you, and he was going to go and tell you in the morning and ask you what he ought to do. He said you were such a great man that people paid you fifty thousand dollars just to tell them what to do, and he thought you would tell him for nothing, so it would be foolish not to go and ask you. He wouldn't tell me what it was. Then a friend of mine came-I was going to a movie with her-and we went. When I got home father wasn't there and there was a note on the table. It said he was going out and might be late. One of the detectives tried to take the note but I wouldn't let him. I have it here in my bag if you want to see it.'
    Wolfe shook his head. 'Not necessary. Had your father mentioned before you left that he intended to go out?'
    'No. And he always did. We always told each other ahead of time what we were going to do.'
    'Had he given you no hint- Very well, Fritz.'
    Fritz crossed to the red leather chair, put the tray on the little table that is always there for people to write checks on, and proffered her a napkin. She didn't lift a hand to take it. Wolfe spoke.
    'I'll listen to more, Miss Vassos, only after you eat.' He picked up his book, opened to his page, and swiveled to put his back to her. She took the napkin. Fritz went. I could have turned to my desk and pretended to do something, but I would have been reflected to her in the big mirror on the wall back of my desk, which gives me a view of the door to the hall, and she would have been reflected to me, so I got up and went to the kitchen. Fritz was at the side table putting the cover on the toaster. As I got the milk from the refrigerator I told him, 'She's the daughter of Pete Vassos. I'll have to scare up a bootblack. He's dead.'
    'Him?' Fritz turned. 'Dieu m'en garde.' He shook his head. 'Too young. Then she is not a client?'
    'Not one to send a bill to.' I poured milk. 'Anyhow, as you know, he wouldn't take a paying client if one came up the stoop on his knees. It's December, and his tax bracket is near the top. If she wants him to help and he won't, I'll take a leave of absence and handle it myself. You saw her face.'
    He snorted. 'She should be warned. About you.'
    'Sure. I'll do that first.'
    I don't gulp milk. When the glass was half empty I tiptoed out to the office door. Wolfe's back was still turned and Elma was putting jam on a piece of toast. I finished the milk, taking my time, and took the glass to the kitchen, and when I returned Wolfe had about-faced and put the book down and she was saying something. I entered and crossed to my desk.
    '& and he had never done that before,' she was telling Wolfe. 'I thought he might have gone back to the district attorney's office, so I phoned there, but he hadn't. I phoned two of his friends but they hadn't seen him. I went to work as usual, he goes to that building every morning, and I told Mr. Busch and he tried to find out if he was in the building, but no one had seen him. Then a detective came and asked me a lot of questions, and later, after lunch, another one came and took me to the district attorney's office, and I-'
    'Miss Vassos.' Wolfe was