“Nonsense.
My bed—”
“You own all the beds in this house except mine, don’t you?
Certainly it’s your bed. Is her door locked?”
“It is.
I instructed her to open it only to Fritz’s voice or yours.”
“Okay.
I’m apt to wander in there any time. Is there anything you want to tell me before Cramer gets here?
Such as who shot Harlan Scovil and where that thirty grand is and what will happen when they pick Mike Walsh up and he tells them all about our convention this evening?
Do you realize that Walsh was here when Saul took Hilda Lindquist away?
Do you realize that Walsh may be in Cramer’s office right now?
Do you realize—”
“That will do, Archie.
Definitely.” Wolfe sat up and poured beer. “I realize up to my capacity.
As I told Mr. Walsh, I am not an alarmist, but I certainly realize that Miss Fox is in more imminent danger than any previous client I can call to mind; if not danger of losing her life, then of having it irretrievably ruined.
That is why I am accepting the hazard of concealing her here.
As for the murder of Harlan Scovil, a finger of my mind points straight in one direction, but that is scarcely enough for my own satisfaction and totally insufficient for the safety of Miss Fox or the demands of legal retribution.
We may leam something from Mr. Cramer, though I doubt it.
There are certain steps to be taken without delay.
Can Orrie Gather and Johnny Keems be here at eight in the morning?”
“I’ll get them.
I may have to pull Johnny off—”
“Do so.
Have them here by eight if possible, and send them to my room.” He sighed. “A riot for a levee, but there’s no help for it. You will have to keep to the house.
Before we retire certain arrangements regarding Miss Fox will need discussion.
And by the way, the letter I dictated on behalf of our other client. Miss Lindquist, should be written and posted with a special-delivery stamp before the early-morning collection.
Send Fritz out with it.”
“Then I’d better type it now, before Cramer gets here.”
“As you please.”
I turned and got the typewriter up and opened my notebook, and rattled it off.
I grinned as I wrote the
“Dear sir,” but the grin was bunk, because if Wolfe hadn’t told me to be democratic I would have been up a stump and probably would have had to try something like
“Dearest Marquis.”
From the article I had read the day before I knew where he was. Hotel Portland.
Wolfe signed it, and I got Fritz and let him out the front door and waited there till he came back.
The short dick was still out there.
I was back in the office but not yet on my sitter again, when the doorbell rang.
I wasn’t taking any chances, since Fred had gone home and Saul was upstairs asleep.
I pulled the curtain away from the glass panel to get a view of the stoop, including corners, and when I saw Cramer was there alone I opened up.
He stepped in and I shut the door and bolted it and then extended a paw for his hat and coat.
And it wasn’t so silly that I kept a good eye on him either, since I knew he had been enforcing the law for thirty years.
He mumbled,
“Hello, son.
Wolfe in the office?”
“Yeah.
Walk in.”
Chapter 9
Wolfe and the inspector exchanged greetings.
Cramer sat down and got out a cigar and bit off the end, and held a match to it.
Wolfe got a hand up and pinched his nostrils between a thumb and a forefinger to warn the membranes of the assault that was coming.