he looks one-fifth as strong and hardy, and one-tenth as smart, as he really is. I shook hands with him, not having seen him for a week or so, and nodded to the other two.
Is there anything to say'I asked him.
I dont think so. Mr. Wolfe filled me in.
Okay, take it. You know the Homicide boys may be on him too'
Sure. Well try not to trip on em.
You know its a long shot and the only bet weve got'So lose him quick, what do we care.
Well lose him or die.
Thats the spirit. Thats what puts statues of private detectives in the park.
See you on the witness stand.
I left them. My immediate and urgent objective was Madison Avenue for a coke-and-lime, but I went a block north to Seventieth Street. Sixty-ninth Street now belonged to Saul and his squad.
At eleven oclock the next morning, Friday, I sat in the office listening to the clank of Wolfes elevator as it brought him down from the plant rooms.
There had been no cheep from Delia Devlin, but we hadnt wanted one anyway. What we wanted we had got, at least the first installment. At 12:42 Thursday night Saul had phoned that Heath had checked in at Sixty-ninth Street, arriving in a taxi, alone. That was all for the night. At 6:20 in the morning he had phoned that Fred Durkin and his two men had taken over and had been briefed on the terrain. And at 10:23 Fred had phoned that Heath had left his tenement and taken a taxi to 719 East Fifty-first Street and entered the building. That was the gray brick house I had visited the day before. Fred said they had seen no sign of an official tail. They were deployed. I told him he was my favorite mick and still would be if he hung on, and buzzed Wolfe in the plant rooms to inform him.
Wolfe entered, got at his desk, looked over the morning mail, signed a couple of checks, dictated a letter of inquiry about sausage to a man in Wisconsin, and settled down with the crossword puzzle in the London Times. I carried on my routine neatly and normally, making it perfectly plain that I could be just as placid as him, no matter how tense and ticklish it got. I had just finished typing the envelope for the letter and was twirling it out of the machine when the doorbell rang. I went to the hall to answer it, took one look through the one-way glass panel, wheeled and returned to the office, and spoke.
I guess Im through as a bookie. I said forty to one she wouldnt spill it.
Wengert and Cramer want in. We can sneak out the back way and head for Mexico.
He finished putting in a letter, with precision, before he looked up. Is this flummery'
No, sir. Its them.
Indeed. His brows went up a trifle. Bring them in.
I went out and to the door, turned the knob, and pulled it open. Hello hello,
I said brightly. Mr. Wolfe was saying only a minute ago that he would like to see Mr. Cramer and Mr. Wengert, and here you are.
Bright as it was, it didnt go over so well because they stepped in with the first hello and were well along the hall by the time I finished. I shut the door and followed. Entering the office, it struck me as encouraging that Wengert and Wolfe were shaking hands, but then I remembered the District Attorney who always shook hands with the defendant before he opened up, to show there was no personal feeling.
Cramer usually took the red leather chair at the end of Wolfes desk, but this time he let Wengert have it, and I moved up one of the yellow ones for him.
I sent you my regards the other day by Goodwin, Wengert said. I hope he remembered.
Wolfe inclined his head. He did. Thank you.
I didnt know then Id be seeing you so soon.
Nor did I.
No, I suppose not. Wengert crossed his legs and leaned back. Goodwin said you had taken on a job for Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Rackell.
Thats right. Wolfe was casual. To investigate the death of their nephew.
They said he had been working for the FBI. It would have been impolitic to wander into your line of fire, so I sent Mr. Goodwin to see you.
Lets cut the blah. You sent him to get information you
Is there anything to say'I asked him.
I dont think so. Mr. Wolfe filled me in.
Okay, take it. You know the Homicide boys may be on him too'
Sure. Well try not to trip on em.
You know its a long shot and the only bet weve got'So lose him quick, what do we care.
Well lose him or die.
Thats the spirit. Thats what puts statues of private detectives in the park.
See you on the witness stand.
I left them. My immediate and urgent objective was Madison Avenue for a coke-and-lime, but I went a block north to Seventieth Street. Sixty-ninth Street now belonged to Saul and his squad.
At eleven oclock the next morning, Friday, I sat in the office listening to the clank of Wolfes elevator as it brought him down from the plant rooms.
There had been no cheep from Delia Devlin, but we hadnt wanted one anyway. What we wanted we had got, at least the first installment. At 12:42 Thursday night Saul had phoned that Heath had checked in at Sixty-ninth Street, arriving in a taxi, alone. That was all for the night. At 6:20 in the morning he had phoned that Fred Durkin and his two men had taken over and had been briefed on the terrain. And at 10:23 Fred had phoned that Heath had left his tenement and taken a taxi to 719 East Fifty-first Street and entered the building. That was the gray brick house I had visited the day before. Fred said they had seen no sign of an official tail. They were deployed. I told him he was my favorite mick and still would be if he hung on, and buzzed Wolfe in the plant rooms to inform him.
Wolfe entered, got at his desk, looked over the morning mail, signed a couple of checks, dictated a letter of inquiry about sausage to a man in Wisconsin, and settled down with the crossword puzzle in the London Times. I carried on my routine neatly and normally, making it perfectly plain that I could be just as placid as him, no matter how tense and ticklish it got. I had just finished typing the envelope for the letter and was twirling it out of the machine when the doorbell rang. I went to the hall to answer it, took one look through the one-way glass panel, wheeled and returned to the office, and spoke.
I guess Im through as a bookie. I said forty to one she wouldnt spill it.
Wengert and Cramer want in. We can sneak out the back way and head for Mexico.
He finished putting in a letter, with precision, before he looked up. Is this flummery'
No, sir. Its them.
Indeed. His brows went up a trifle. Bring them in.
I went out and to the door, turned the knob, and pulled it open. Hello hello,
I said brightly. Mr. Wolfe was saying only a minute ago that he would like to see Mr. Cramer and Mr. Wengert, and here you are.
Bright as it was, it didnt go over so well because they stepped in with the first hello and were well along the hall by the time I finished. I shut the door and followed. Entering the office, it struck me as encouraging that Wengert and Wolfe were shaking hands, but then I remembered the District Attorney who always shook hands with the defendant before he opened up, to show there was no personal feeling.
Cramer usually took the red leather chair at the end of Wolfes desk, but this time he let Wengert have it, and I moved up one of the yellow ones for him.
I sent you my regards the other day by Goodwin, Wengert said. I hope he remembered.
Wolfe inclined his head. He did. Thank you.
I didnt know then Id be seeing you so soon.
Nor did I.
No, I suppose not. Wengert crossed his legs and leaned back. Goodwin said you had taken on a job for Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Rackell.
Thats right. Wolfe was casual. To investigate the death of their nephew.
They said he had been working for the FBI. It would have been impolitic to wander into your line of fire, so I sent Mr. Goodwin to see you.
Lets cut the blah. You sent him to get information you
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