The Return of the Black Widowers (32 page)
There was a short silence at the rather abrupt ending to the story, and then Rubin said, "I take it that Cecil was perfectly safe and sound."
"Oh, yes, indeed. I asked him about the pursuers, and he smiled faintly and said, 'I believe I eluded them, Mr. Wayne. Or I may even have been entirely mistaken and they did not really exist. At least, I wasn't bothered at all on my way home.' "
"So that he got home safely?"
"Yes, Mr. Rubin."
"And the exhibition curios were intact?"
"Entirely."
"Even the ring, Mr. Wayne?"
"Absolutely."
Rubin threw himself back in the chair with an annoyed expression on his face, "Then, no, I don't see your difficulty."
"But why did he tell me he was going northwestward? He told me that distinctly. There is no question of my having misheard."
Halsted said, "Well, he thought he was being followed, so he told you he was going to the North Dakota place. Then he decided that either he had gotten away from the pursuers, or that they didn't exist, and he thereupon switched his plans, and went straight to New York without having time to call you again and warn you of that."
"Don't you think, in that case," said Wayne, with some heat, "he might have apologized to me? After all, he had misled me, sent me on an unnecessary chase into North Dakota, subjected
me to a little over two days of uncertainty during which I not only feared for my collection, but also felt that he might be lying dead or badly injured somewhere. All this was the result of his having told me, falsely, that he was heading northwestward. And then, having arrived in New York, he might have known, since I wasn't home, that I had flown to the North Dakota house to be with him, and he might have had the kindness to call me there and tell me he was safe. He knew the North Dakota number. But he didn't call me, and he didn't apologize to me or excuse himself when I got home."
"Are you sure he knew that you were in North Dakota?" asked Halsted.
"Of course I'm sure he knew. For one thing, I told him. I had to account for the fact that I had been away from home for three days. I said, 'Sorry I wasn't home when you arrived, Cecil. I had to make a quick and unexpected trip to North Dakota.' It would have taken a heart of forged steel not to have winced at that, and not to have begun apologizing, but it didn't seem to bother him at all."
There was another pause at this point, and then Avalon cleared his throat in a deep rumble and said, "Mr. Wayne, you know your butler better than any of us do. How do you account for this behavior?"
"The logical feeling is that it was just callousness," said Wayne, "but I don't know him as a callous man. I have evolved the following thought, though: What if he had been tempted by the ring and the other curios himself? What if it was his plan to dispose of them for his own benefit? He could tell me that he was being pursued, and that would send me off on my foolish mission to North Dakota so that he would have a period of time to put away his ill-gotten gains somewhere and pretend he had been robbed. See?"
Rubin said, "Do you know Cecil to be a dishonest man?
"I wouldn't have said so, but anyone can yield to temptation."
"Granted. But if he did, he resisted. You have everything. He didn't steal anything."
"That's true, but his telling me he was going northwestward and then never explaining why he had changed his mind tells me that he was up to skullduggery. Just because he was too fainthearted to go through with it this time doesn't excuse him. He might be bolder the next time."
Rubin said, "Have you asked him to explain the northwestward business?"
Wayne hesitated. "I don't like to. Suppose there is some explanation. The fact that I would ask him about it would indicate that I didn't trust him, and that would spoil our relationship. My having waited so long makes it worse. If I ask now, it would mean I have brooded about it all year, and I'm sure he would resign in resentment. On the other hand, I can't think what explanation he might have, and my not asking him leaves me unable to relax in his presence. I find I am always keyed up and waiting for him to try again."
Rubin said, "Then it seems that if you don't ask him, but convince yourself he's guilty, your relationship is ruined. And if you do ask him and he convinces you he's innocent, your relationship is ruined. What if you don't ask him, but convince yourself he is innocent?"
"That would be fine," said Wayne, "but how? I would love to do so. When I think of my long and close association with Alfred Pennyworth, Cecil's uncle, I feel I owe something to the nephew— but I must have an explanation and I don't dare to ask for it."
Drake said, "Since Tom Trumbull knows about all this—what do you say about it, Tom?"
Wayne interposed. "Tom says I should forget all about it."
Trumbull said, "That's right. Cecil might have been so ashamed of his needless panic that he just can't talk about it."
"But he
did
talk about it," said Wayne, heatedly. "He casually admitted that he might have been mistaken about being pursued, and did so as soon as I got home. Why didn't he apologize to me and express regret for the trouble he had put me to?"
"Maybe
that's
what he can't talk about," said Trumbull.
"Ridiculous. What do I do? Wait for a deathbed confession? He's twenty-two years younger than I am, and he'll outlive me."
"Then," said Avalon, "if we're to clear the air between you, we must find some natural explanation that would account for his having told you he was heading northwestward and that would also account for his having failed to express regret over the trouble he put you to."
"Exactly," said Wayne, "but to explain both at once is impossible. I defy you to."
The silence that followed endured for quite a while until Rubin said, "And you won't accept embarrassment as an explanation for his failure to express regret?"
"Of course not."
"And you won't ask him?"
"No, I won't," said Wayne, biting off the remark with decision.
"And you find having him in your employ under present conditions is wearisome and nerve-wracking."
"Yes, I do."
"But you don't want to fire him, either."
"No. For old Alfred's sake, I don't."
"In that case," said Rubin, gloomily, "you have painted yourself into a corner, Mr. Wayne. I don't see how- you can get out of it."
"I still say," growled Trumbull, "that you ought to forget about it, Bruce. Pretend it never happened."
"That's more than I can do," said Wayne, frowning.
"Then Manny is right," said Trumbull. "You can't get out of the hole you're in."
Rubin looked about the table. "Tom and I say Wayne can't get out of this impasse. What about the rest of you?"
Avalon said, "What if a third party—"
"No," said Wayne instantly. "I won't have anyone else discussing this with Cecil. This is strictly between him and me."
Avalon shook his head. "Then I'm stuck, too."
"It would appear," said Rubin, looking about the table, "that none of the Black Widowers can help you."
"None of the Black Widowers seated at the table," said Gonzalo, "but we haven't asked Henry yet. He's our waiter, Mr. Wayne, and you'd be surprised at his ability to work things out. Henry!"
"Yes, Mr. Gonzalo," said Henry, from his quiet post at the sideboard.
"You heard everything. What do you think Mr. Wayne ought to do?"
"I agree with Mr. Trumbull, sir. I think that Mr. Wayne should forget the matter."
Wayne rolled his eyes upward and shook his head firmly.
"However," Henry went on, "I have a specific reason for suggesting it, one that perhaps Mr. Wayne will agree with."
"Good," said Gonzalo. "What is it, Henry?"
"I couldn't help but notice, sir, that all of you, in referring to what Mr. Pennyworth said on the phone, mentioned that he said he was going northwestward. That, however, isn't quite so. When Mr. Wayne first mentioned the phone conversation, he quoted Mr. Pennyworth as saying, 'I'm going northwest.' Is that correct?"
Wayne said, "Yes, as a matter of fact, that is what he said, but does it matter? What is the difference between 'northwestward' and 'northwest'?"
"A huge difference, Mr. Wayne. To go 'northwestward' can only mean traveling in a particular direction, but to go 'northwest' need not mean that at all."
"Of course it needs to mean that."
"No, sir. I beg your pardon, Mr. Wayne, but 'to go northwest' could mean one's intention to take a plane belonging to Northwest Airlines, one of our larger plane lines."
The pause that followed was electric. Then Wayne whispered, "Good Lord!"
"Yes, sir. And in that case, everything explains itself. Mr. Pennyworth may have been mistaken about being followed, but, even if he thought he was, he was not sufficiently worried over the situation to follow any circuitous route. He told you he was taking
a Northwest airplane, speaking of the matter elliptically, as many people do, and assuming you would understand.
"Despite the name of the plane line, which may have been more accurate at its start, Northwest Airlines serves the United States generally and you can take one of its planes from Minneapolis to New York, traveling eastward. I'm sure that but for the coincidence that you had a home in North Dakota, you might have interpreted Mr. Pennyworth's remark correctly.
"Mr. Pennyworth, under the impression he had told you he was flying to New York, said he would see you soon—meaning, in New York. And he hung up suddenly probably because his flight announced that it was ready for boarding."
"Good Lord!" said Wayne, again.
"Exactly, sir. Then when Mr. Pennyworth got home and found you had been to North Dakota, he could honestly see no connection between that and anything he might have done, so that it never occurred to him to apologize for his actions. He couldn't have asked you why you had gone to North Dakota; as a servant, it wasn't his place to. Had you explained of your own accord, he would have understood the confusion and would undoubtedly have apologized for contributing to it. But you remained silent."
"Good Lord!" said Wayne, a third time. Then, energetically, "I have spent over a year making myself miserable over nothing at all. There's no question about it. Batman has made a terrible mistake."
"Batman," said Henry, "has, as you yourself have pointed out, the great advantage, and the occasional disadvantage, of being only human."
J |
ames Drake, smoking his cigarette slowly and patiently, sat on the staircase, third step from the bottom, and nodded slightly as Thomas Trumbull strode toward him. Trumbull was almost always the last to arrive at the monthly Black Widowers banquet, but this time he was not quite as late as he often was. Drake stood up and Trumbull, braking suddenly, said, inevitably, "Why are you waiting down here, Jim?"
"To talk to you. You're the only one I haven't been able to reach this last week. Why don't you get an answering service? Or an answering machine?"
"Because," growled Trumbull, "I don't want to be too damned accessible and I don't want too many messages. Those who need to reach me know how."
"Exactly. I needed to."
"All right, now you have me. What's up?" He scowled suddenly. "Bad news?"
"No. Puzzling news. A week ago, Henry called me—"
"What Henry? Our
waiter?”
"What other Henry would 1 be referring to on Black Widowers night, Tom? Of course, our waiter. He called me because it's my turn to host the shindig tonight and he asked me if it would be possible for me to refrain from bringing a guest."
Trumbull registered utter surprise. "Why?"
"The point is
he
wants to be the guest."
"He? Who'll wait on us?"
215
"No, no. He'll do the waiting as always. He's not suggesting he sit down and eat with us.—Though he could if he wished; he's a member of the club."