Free Homicide Trinity by Rex Stout

dinner there and was there all evening.”
    “Alone?”
    “No. My son and his wife and two children spent the holiday week with us. They went to the opera with my wife and daughter, and I stayed home with the children.”
    “How old are the children?”
    “Two and four.”
    “Where is your home?”
    “An apartment. Park Avenue and Sixty-ninth Street.”
    “Did you go out at all?”
    “No.”
    “Thank you. Mr. Heydecker?”
    “I was at the Manhattan Chess Club watching the tournament. Bobby Fischer won his adjourned game with Weinstein in fifty-eight moves. Larry Evans drew with Kalme and Reshevsky drew with Mednis.”
    “Where is the Manhattan Chess Club?”
    “West Sixty-fourth Street.”
    “Did play start at six o’clock?”
    “Certainly not. I was in court all day and had things to do at the office. My secretary and I had sandwiches at my desk.”
    “What time did you leave the office?”
    “Around eight o’clock. My secretary would know.”
    “What time did you arrive at the chess club?”
    “Fifteen or twenty minutes after I left the office.” Heydecker suddenly moved and was on his feet. “This is ridiculous,” he declared. “You may be on the square, Wolfe, I don’t know. If you are, God help us.” He turned. “I’m going to see Otis. You coming, Frank?”
    He was. The brilliant idea man, judging from his expression, had none at all. He pulled his feet back, moved his head slowly from side to side to tell hope good-by, and arose. They didn’t ask the eleven-percent partner to join them, and apparently he wasn’t going to, but as I was reaching for Edey’s ulster on the hall rack here came Jett, and when I opened the door he was the first one out. I stood on the stoop, getting a breath of air, and watched them heading for Ninth Avenue three abreast, a solid front of mutual trust and understanding, in a pig’s eye.
    In the office, Wolfe was leaning back with his eyes closed. As I reached my desk the phone rang. It was Saul Panzer, to report that there had been no sign of Mrs. Sorell. I told him to hold the wire and relayed it toWolfe, and asked if he wanted to put them on the alibis we had just collected. “Pfui,” he said, and I told Saul to carry on.
    I swiveled. “I was afraid,” I said, “that you might be desperate enough to try it, checking their alibis. It’s very interesting, the different ways there are of cracking a case. It depends on who you are. If you’re just a top-flight detective, me for instance, all you can do is detect. You’d rather go after an alibi than eat. When you ask a man where he was at eleven minutes past eight you put it in your notebook, and you wear out a pair of shoes looking for somebody who says he was somewhere else. But if you’re a genius you don’t give a damn about alibis. You ask him where he was only to keep the conversation going while you wait for something to click. You don’t even listen—”
    “Nonsense,” he growled. “They have no alibis.”
    I nodded. “You didn’t listen.”
    “I did listen. Their alibis are worthless. One with his fiancée, one watching a chess tournament, one at home with young children in bed asleep. Bah. I asked on the chance that one of them, possibly two, might be eliminated, but no. There are still three.”
    “Then genius is all that’s left. Unless you have an idea for another card I could take to Mrs. Sorell. I wouldn’t mind. I like the way she says
very.”
    “No doubt. Could you do anything with her?”
    “I could try. She might possibly make another decision—for instance, to sign a statement. Or if she has decided to hire you I could bring her, and you could have a go at her yourself. She has marvelous eyelashes.”
    He grunted. “It may come to that. We’ll see after lunch. It may be that after they have talked with Mr. Otis—yes, Fritz?”
    “Lunch is ready, sir.”

Chapter 7
    I never got to check an alibi, but it was a close shave. Who made it close was Inspector