What if the Frost girl and the Mitchell girl did it together?
You couldn't beat it for a set-up, and maybe they're that clever.
Knowing Molly Lauck liked to play jokes, maybe they planted it for her to swipe, or maybe they just gave it to her and then told their story.
But why?
That's another item, I can't find anyone who had any reason at all to want to kill her. It seems she was mellow in the pump about this Perren Gebert and he couldn't see her, but there's no evidence that she was making herself a nuisance to him.” Wolfe murmured, “Mellow where?” I put in, “Okay, boss. Soft-hearted.”
“Gebert was there that day, too,” Cramer went on, “but I can't get anywhere with him on that. There hasn't been another single nibble on motive, if the stuff was intended for Molly Lauck.
In my opinion, it wasn't.
It looks like she really did swipe it.
And the minute you take that theory, what have you got?
You've got the ocean. There were over a hundred people there that day, and it might have been intended for any one of them, and any of them might have brought it.
You can see what a swell lay-out that is.
We've traced over three hundred sales of two-pound boxes of Bailey's Royal Medley, and among that bunch of humans that was there at the show we've uncovered enough grudges and jealousies and bad blood and billiousness to account for twenty murders. What do we do with it now?
We file it.” He stopped and chewed savagely on his cigar.
I grinned at him:
“Did you come here to inspect our filing system, Inspector?
It's a beaut.”
He growled at me,
“Who asked you anything?
I came here because I'm licked.
What do you think of that?
Did you ever hear me say that before?
And no one else.” He turned to Wolfe. “When I heard you were up there today, of course I didn't know for who or what, but I thought to myself, now the fur's going to fly.
Then I thought I might as well drop in and you might give me a piece as a souvenir.
I'll take anything I can get.
This is one of those cases that can't cool off, because the damn newspapers keep the heat turned on indefinitely, and I don't mean only the tabloids.
Molly Lauck was young and beautiful.
Half of the dames that were there at the show that day are in the Social Register. H.
R.
Cragg was there himself, with his wife, and so on.
The two girls that saw her die are also young and beautiful.
They won't let it cool off, and every time I go into the Commissioner's office he beats the arm of his chair. You've seen him do that right here in your own office.”
Wolfe nodded.
“Mr. Hombert is a disagreeable noise.
I'm sorry I have nothing for you, Mr. Cramer, I really am.”
“Yeah, I am too.
But you can do this, anyhow: give me a push.
Even if it's in the wrong direction and you know it.”
“Well…let's see.” Wolfe leaned back with his eyes half closed. “You are blocked on motive.
You can find none as to Miss Lauck, and too many in other directions. You can't trace the purchase either of the candy or the poison.
In fact, you have traced or found nothing whatever, and you are without a starting-point.
But you do really have one; have you used it?”
Cramer stared.
“Have I used what?”
“The one thing that is indubitably connected with the murder.
The box of candy.
What have you done about that?”
“I've had it analyzed, of course.”
“Tell me about it.” Cramer tapped ashes into the tray.
“There's not much to tell.
It was a two-pound box that's on sale pretty well all over town, at druggists and branch stores, put up by Bailey of Philadelphia, selling at a dollar sixty.