Add fifty dollars.”
The woman nodded, excused herself again, and departed.
McNair glanced at his wrist watch, shot a sharp one at young Frost, and looked at Wolfe.
“You can still have ten minutes.”
Wolfe shook his head.
“I won't need them.
You're nervous, Mr. McNair. You're upset.”
“What?
You won't need them?”
“No.
You probably lead too active a life, running around getting women dressed.” Wolfe shuddered. “Horrible.
I would like to ask you two questions.
First, regarding the death of Molly Lauck, have you anything to add to what you have told Mr. Cramer and Mr. Frost? I know pretty well what that is.
Anything new?”
“No.” McNair was frowning. He picked up his handkerchief and wiped his forehead. “No. Nothing whatever.”
“Very well.
Then it would be futile to take up more of your time. The other question: may I be shown a room where some of your employees may be sent to me for conversation?
I shall make it as brief as possible.
Particularly Miss Helen Frost, Miss Thelma Mitchell, and Mrs. Lament.
I don't suppose Mr. Perren Gebert happens to be here?”
McNair snapped,
“Gebert?
Why the devil should he be?”
“I don't know.” Wolfe lifted his shoulders half an inch, and dropped them. “I ask.
I understand he was here one week ago yesterday, the day Miss Lauck died, when you were having your show.
I believe you call it a show?”
“I had a show, yes.
Gebert dropped in. Scores of people were here.
About talking with the girls and Mrs. Lament- if you make it short you can do it here.
I have to go down to the floor.”
“I would prefer something less-more humble.
If you please.”
“Suit yourself.” McNair got up. “Take them to one of the booths, Lew.
I'll tell Mrs. Lamont.
Do you want her first?”
“I'd like to start with Miss Frost and Miss Mitchell.
Together.”
“You may be interrupted, if they're needed.”
“I shall be patient.”
“All right.
You tell them, Lew?”
He looked around, grabbed his handkerchief from the desk and stuffed it in his pocket, and bustled out.
Llewellyn Frost, rising, began to protest,
“I don't see why you didn't-”
Wolfe stopped him.
“Mr. Frost. I endure only to my limit.
Obviously, Mr. McNair is sick, but you cannot make that claim to tolerance.
Don't forget that you are responsible for this grotesque expedition. Where is this booth?”
“Well, I'm paying for it.”
“Not adequately. You couldn't.