Free Rex Stout_Tecumseh Fox 03 by The Broken Vase Page B

regards this as confirming her suspicion that her brother was murdered. Perhaps. Perhaps not, legally. Whoever ruined his violin may merely have intended to humiliate and disgrace him. Even if it was calculated that in his distress Tusar would kill himself, it would be difficult, if not impossible, to prove that the calculation existed and led to premeditated murder. So I doubt if anyone is going topay for Tusar’s life with his own. But some kind of payment is going to be made. When I sat in that auditorium Monday evening and watched Tusar’s face I didn’t know what was going on, but I do now, and though I’ve dealt with a lot of crime professionally, including murder, I don’t remember anything quite as damnable and devilish as that.”
    “Is your tone,” Koch inquired caustically, “intended to rebuke our moral palsy? I assure you I didn’t pour varnish in Jan’s violin.”
    There were mutterings. Fox said sharply. “A rebuke is none of my business, but the facts are. I am no longer making a friendly report to a group of which I am a member. I am going to do one of two things immediately: either I shall question each of you in turn privately and thoroughly, and you will answer—”
    “Fish! Mrs. Pomfret said emphatically. “We certainly have to decide what’s to be done, but if you think you’re going to turn my house into a police station—”
    “That’s the alternative, Mrs. Pomfret. The police, or me. Moreover, I’ll start with your son. When I was left alone here the other day, he came and said you wanted me. He stayed here, I went out, but I doubled back and looked through the keyhole, and he had pawed into the package and got the violin. If you had seen his face when I entered, and heard what he said, you would have known as I did that he wasn’t merely passing the time.”
    Eyes went to Perry Dunham. Mrs. Pomfret, frowning at Fox in disbelief, opened her mouth and closed it again, and then turned to her son and asked quietly, “What is this, Perry?”
    “Nothing, Mum.” The young man reached across Wells to pat the back of her hand. “You know me, alwaysup to mischief. I was going to plant a clue for him.”
    Fox shook his head. “You’ll have to do a lot better than that before we’re through.” He stood up. “If the rest of you will please leave me here with Mr. Dunham? Since it’s Sunday afternoon, I don’t suppose any of you have important engagements. If you have, and must leave before I get to you, I would like to see you as soon as possible. When I finish here I may or may not report to the police. That will depend.”
    Hesitantly, with glances and murmurs, they pushed back their chairs. Koch addressed Fox:
    “You said the varnish was put in the violin between noon Monday and eight in the evening. How do you know that?”
    “Because the tone was all right when Tusar finished practicing with Miss Mowbray at noon.”
    “How do you justify your assumption that one of us did it?”
    “Not my assumption. I make a start here, that’s all.”
    Most of them had started for the door, but were lingering. Mrs. Pomfret had moved to confront Fox:
    “I’m going to have a few words with my son. I’ll send him back here as soon as I’m through. This high-handed procedure—I presume you are aware that your threat to go to the police is a gross breach of our confidence in your discretion?”
    “I don’t regard it so.” Fox met her gaze. “And I meant what I said. I wish to question your son immediately.”
    “So do I. And I intend to. I would advise you, Mr. Fox—”
    “Take me first,” Henry Pomfret interceded from behind her elbow. “That is, if I’m included—”
    “Attaboy,” Perry Dunham cackled. “Hurling yourself into the front line—”
    “Come, Perry.” Mrs. Pomfret had her son’s arm.
    “But, Mum, I assure you—”
    “You come with me. Henry, I approve of your suggestion. Stay with Mr. Fox. If he wishes to search the house for cans of varnish, by all