Anything else?”
“Just better luck elsewhere than you have had here.”
“Thanks.
I'll need that all right.”
He departed. Wolfe rang for beer.
I went to the kitchen for a glass of milk and came back to the office with it and stood by the window and started sipping.
A glance at Wolfe had showed me that things were at a standstill, because he was sitting up with his eyes open, turning the pages of a Richardt folder which had come in the morning mail.
I shrugged negligently. After I had finished the milk I sat at my desk and sealed the envelopes containing checks, and stamped them, went to the hall for my hat and moseyed out and down to the corner to drop them in a mailbox.
When I got back again Wolfe was still having recess; he had taken a laeliocattleya luminosa aurea from the vase on his desk and was lifting the anthers to look at the pollinia with his glass.
But at least he hadn't started on the atlas.
I sat down and observed:
“It's a nice balmy spring day outdoors.
April second. McNair's mourning day.
You said yesterday it was ghoulish.
Now he's a ghoul himself.”
Wolfe muttered indifferently,
“He is not a ghoul.”
“Then he's inert matter.”
“He is not inert matter.
Unless he has been embalmed with uncommon thoroughness.
The activity of decomposition is tremendous.”
“All right, then he's a banquet. Anything you say.
Might I inquire, have you turned the case over to Inspector Cramer?
Should I go down and ask him for instructions?”
No response.
I waited a decent interval, then went on,
'Take this red leather box, for instance.
Say Cramer finds it and opens it and learns all the things it would be fun to know, and hitches up his horse and buggy and goes and gets the murderer, with evidence.
There would go the first half of your fee from Llewellyn.
The second half is already gone, since McNair is dead and of course that heiress won't work there any more.
It begins to look as if you not only had the discomfort of seeing McNair die right in front of you, you're not even going to be able to send anyone a bill for it. You've taught me to be tough in money matters.
Do you realize that Doc Vollmer will charge five bucks for the call he made here yesterday?
You could have him send the bill to McNair's estate, but you'd have the trouble and expense of handling it anyhow, since you're the executor without remuneration. And by the way, what about that executor stuff?
Aren't you supposed to bustle around and do something?”
No response.
I said,
“And besides, Cramer hasn't really got any right to the red box at all.
Legally it's yours.
But if he gets hold of it he'll plunder it, don't think he won't.
Then of course you could have your lawyer write him a letter-”
“Shut up, Archie.” Wolfe put down the glass. “You are talking twaddle. Or perhaps you aren't; do you mean business?
Would you go out with your pistol and shoot all the men in Mr. Cramer's army?
I see no other way to stop their search. And then find the red box yourself?”
I grinned at him condescendingly.
“I wouldn't do that, because I wouldn't have to.
If I was the kind of man you are, I would just sit calmly in my chair with my eyes shut, and use psychology on it.
Like you did with Paul Chapin, remember?
First I would decide what the psychology of McNair was like, covering every point.
Then I would say to myself, if my psychology was like that, and if I had a very important article like a red box to hide, where would I hide it?
Then I would say to someone else, Archie, please go at once to such and such a place and get the red box and bring it here.