Together the radio and I made quite a din.
Boyden McNair, with his right elbow on his knee and his bent head resting on the hand which covered his eyes, sat near Wolfe's desk in the dunce's chair, yclept that by me on the day that District Attorney Anderson of Westchester sat in it while Wolfe made a dunce of him.
McNair had been there nearly an hour.
He had done a lot of sputtering on the phone and had refused to wait until six o'clock, and had finally appeared a little after five, done some sputtering, and then settled down because there wasn't anything else to do.
He had his bottle of aspirin along in his pocket and had already washed a couple of them down, me furnishing the water and also offering phenacetin tablets as an improvement, without any sale.
He wouldn't take a drink, though he certainly looked as if he needed one.
The six o'clock radio and typewriter din was for the purpose of covering any sound of voices that might come from the hall as Nero Wolfe escorted his guest, Miss Frost, from the elevator to the front door and let her out to the taxi which Fritz had ordered from the kitchen phone.
Of course I couldn't hear anything either, so I kept glancing at the office door without letting my fingers stop, and at length it opened and Wolfe entered.
Observing the mise en scene, he winked at me with his right eye and steered for his desk. He got across and deposited in his chair before the visitor knew he was there.
I arose and turned off the radio and quiet descended on us. McNair s head jerked up.
He saw Wolfe, blinked, stood up and looked around.
“Where's Miss Frost?” he demanded.
Wolfe said,
“I'm sorry to have kept you waiting, Mr. McNair.
Miss Frost has gone home.”
“What?” McNair gaped at him. “Gone home?
I don't believe it.
Who took her?
Gebert and Lew Frost were here…”
“They were indeed.” Wolfe wiggled a finger at him. “I entreat you, sir. This room has been filled with idiots this afternoon, and I would enjoy some sanity for a change.
I am not a liar.
I put Miss Frost into a cab not ten minutes ago, and she was going straight home.”
“Ten minutes…but I was here!
Right here in this chair!
You knew I wanted to see her!
What kind of a trick-”
“I know you wanted to see her.
But I didn't want you to, and she is perfectly safe if she gets through the traffic.
I do not intend that you shall see Miss Frost until I've had a talk with you.
It was a trick, yes, but I've a right to play tricks.
What about your own tricks?
What about the outright lies you have been telling the police since the day Molly Lauck was murdered?
Well, sir?
Answer me!”
McNair started twice to speak, but didn't.
He looked at Wolfe. He sat down. He pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and then put it back again without using it.
Sweat showed on his forehead.
Finally he said, in a thin cool voice,
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
“Of course you know.” Wolfe pinned him down with his eyes. “I'm talking about the box of poisoned candy.
I know how Miss Frost became aware of its contents.
I know that you have known from the beginning, and that you have deliberately withheld vital information from the police in a murder case. Don't be an idiot, Mr. McNair.
I have a statement signed by Helen Frost; there was nothing else for her to do.
If I told the police what I know you would be locked up.
For the present I don't tell them, because I wish to earn a fee, and if you were locked up I couldn't get at you.
I pay you the compliment of assuming that you have some brains.
If you poisoned that candy, I advise you to say nothing, leave here at once, and beware of me; if you didn't, talk to the point, and there will be no dodging the truth.” Wolfe leaned back and murmured,
“I dislike ultimatums, even my own.
But this has gone far enough.”
McNair sat motionless.