“Well, I went to the garage and showed the note to the guy, and he said all right, wait there and he’d bring it down.
He went off and in a couple of minutes a man with a wide mouth came up and asked me if I was going for a ride.
I’d never saw him before, but I’d have known he was a city feller if I’d had my eyes shut and just touched him with my finger.
I supposed he was working on something and was just looking under stones, so I just answered something friendly.
He said if I was going for a ride I’d better get a horse, because the car I came for was going to remain there for the present.”
Wolfe murmured,
“So you apologized and went to a drug store to telephone here for instructions.”
Fred looked startled.
“No, sir, I didn’t.
My instructions was to get that car, and I got it.
That dick had no documents or nothing, in fact he didn’t have nothing but a wide mouth.
I went upstairs with him after me.
When the garage guy saw the kind of an argument it might be he just disappeared.
I ran the car down on the elevator myself and got into the street and headed east.
The dick jumped on the running board, and when I reached around to brush a speck off the windshield I accidentally pushed the dick off.
By that time he was at Third Avenue and he hopped a taxi and followed me.
When I got to Tenth Avenue, inside your garage, I turned the car inside out, but there was nothing there but tools and an old lead pencil and a busted dog leash and a half a package of Omar cigarettes and—”
Wolfe put up a palm at him.
“And the dick is now across the street?”
“Yes, sir.
He was when I come in.”
“Excellent.
I hope he doesn’t escape in the dark.
Go to the kitchen and tell Fritz to give you a cyanide sandwich.”
Fred shifted his hat.
“I’m sorry, sir, if I—”
“Go!
Any kind of a sandwich.
Wait in the kitchen.
If we find ourselves getting into difficulties here, we shall need you.”
Fred went.
Wolfe leaned back in his chair and got his fingers laced on his belly; his lips were moving, out and in, and out and in.
At length he opened his eyes enough for Clara Fox to see that he was looking at her.
“Well. We were too late.
I told you you were wasting time.”
She lifted her brows.
“Too late for what?”
“To keep you out of jail.
Isn’t it obvious?
What reason could there be for watching your car except to catch you trying to go somewhere in it?
And is it likely they would be laying for you if they had not already found the money?”
“Found it where?”
“I couldn’t say.
Perhaps in the car itself.
I am not a necromancer. Miss Fox.
Now, before we—”
The phone rang, and I took it.
It was Saul Panzer.
I listened and got his story, and then told him to hold the wire and turned to Wolfe.
“Saul.