Murder by the Book

Wolfe shot a glance at me, and I got my notebook and pen. Wellman, concentrating on Wolfe, wasn't interested in me. Wolfe asked him, "When and where and how did she die?"

"She was run over by a car in Van Cortlandt Park seven-teen days ago. Friday evening, February second." Wellman had himself in hand now. "I ought to tell you about her."

"Go ahead."

"My wife and I live in Peoria, Illinois. I've been in business there over twenty years. We had one child, one daughter, Joan. We were very-" He stopped. He sat completely still, not even his eyes moving, for a long moment, and then went on. "We were very proud of her. She graduated from Smith with honors four years ago and took a job in the editorial department of Scholl and Hanna, the book publishers. She did well there-I have been told that by Scholl himself. She was twenty-six last November." He made a little gesture. "Looking at me, you wouldn't think I'd have a beautiful daugh-ter, but she was. Everybody agreed she was beautiful, and she was extremely intelligent."

He got a large envelope from his side pocket. "I might as well give you these now." He left his chair to hand Wolfe the envelope. "A dozen prints of the best likeness we have of her. I got them for the police to use, but they weren't using them, so you can. You can see for yourself."

Wolfe extended a hand with one of the prints, and I arose to take it. Beautiful is a big word, but there's no point in quibbling, and if that was a good likeness Joan Wellman had been a good-looking girl. There was slightly too much chin for my taste, but the forehead and eyes were all any father had a right to expect.

"She was beautiful," Wellman said, and stopped and was still again.

Wolfe couldn't stand to see people overcome. "I suggest," he muttered, "that you avoid words like 'beautiful' and 'proud.' The colder facts will serve. You want to hire me to learn who drove the car that hit her?"

"I'm a damn fool," Wellman stated.

"Then don't hire me."

"I don't mean I'm a damn fool to hire you. I mean I intend to handle this efficiently and I ought to do it." His jaw muscles moved, but not through loss of control. "It's like this. We got a wire two weeks ago Saturday that Joan was dead. We drove to Chicago and took a plane to New York. We saw her body.

The car wheels had ran over the middle of her, and there was a big lump on her head over her right ear. I talked to the police and the medical examiner."