“I’m all right.”
“But I’m not. Take a chair.”
Cramer grunted, backed into the chair I had ready and lowered himself. Wolfe got the wrapping paper opened up and helped himself to an exclusive look at what was inside. Then he gave a little grunt, folded the paper over it again, and handed it to me.
“Put it in the safe, Archie.”
I did so, closed the door and spun the knob, and returned to my chair.
Wolfe heaved a deep sigh and then muttered irritably, “That was the break we were waiting for, Mr. Cramer.”
The inspector growled, “The break?”
Wolfe nodded. “A minute ago I said that what you want wasn’t here. It is now.”
Chapter 18
Cramer, slowly and carefully as if he wanted to be sure of not sitting on an egg, got more comfortable in his chair, resting his back, and lifted a forefinger to rub the side of his nose. Wolfe also was leaning back. His eyes were closed, and his lips began to work in and out. In the silence, the dick in the corner suddenly coughed and I glared at him.
“Hell,” Cramer said mildly, “I’m in no hurry.”
Apparently everyone took him at his word, for the silence continued for another three minutes, and then Wolfe said without opening his eyes:
“Of your two assumptions, Mr. Cramer, the first at least is correct. I doubt if you could get what I’ve got. Or, considering the attitude of your official superiors, if you did get it I doubt if you’d be able to use it.”
“You’ll get no argument from me on that,” the inspector asserted. “What have I been saying? And while I know you can handle your affairs without the help of any gratitude from me, still and all –”
“I know. You’re being tactful and adroit. You’re dripping honey. Pfui. I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll give you what you want, on the condition that you agree without reservation to let me do it my way, without interference or protest.”
“Well.” Cramer regarded him with narrowed eyes, but it was one-sided, because Wolfe’s eyes were still shut. “That’s sort of vague. That you’ll give me what I want. Who decides what I want?”
“Nonsense. I’m not quibbling. You want the identity of the murderer and the motive. I’ll give you those.”
“Any evidence?”
“Enough to satisfy you. And some of it I don’t think you’ll ever get unless you get it here and soon.”
“Is it that thing in the safe?”
“Oh, no, you could get that yourself in about twenty-four hours. It took me twenty-five. I’ll have to pry off a lid to get the evidence I’m speaking of.”
Cramer eyed him a moment longer and said, “Shoot.”
“Without reservation, no interference or protest from you.”
“Right. Shoot.”
Wolfe opened his eyes at me. “Archie, get Mr. Barrett on the phone.”
“Donny or Dad?”
“Mr. Barrett Senior.”
Neya Tormic blurted, “You mustn’t –”
As I got at the phone Wolfe shushed her, and he had to keep on shushing her while I fiddled around with three different numbers before I finally reached the desired party at the Thistle Club. She subsided when Wolfe got on the phone:
“Mr. Barrett? This is Nero Wolfe. I’m calling to fulfill a promise. I told you that if I should find it necessary to interfere with your business I’d let you know in advance. I’m afraid I’m not giving you much notice; I’m going ahead now. No, please, please, that won’t help matters any. At my office. Yes. Yes, I’ll consent to that. No! If your son is there with you, you’d better bring him along. Yes. We’ll be expecting you within fifteen minutes.”
He pushed the phone away and got to his feet, and moved in the direction of the door.
Neya Tormic jumped up and grabbed at him. She got his sleeve. “Where – I’ll go with you –”
“No, Miss Tormic. I’ll be back in a moment. Archie!”
I rose and started over, but before I got there she let him go, and he went on out. I had no idea what her status was, or her intentions either, so I ambled to the door and stood there with my back against it. She didn’t go back and sit down, but stood pat, with her eyes leveled at me, or maybe at the door since I don’t like to flatter myself. We had held the tableau perhaps three minutes, not more than four, when I felt the door pressing against me and stood aside to let Wolfe re-enter. He halted to hand me an envelope, sealed, with For Neya Tormic on it in his writing, and then went on to his desk.
He looked at Cramer and indicated with a thumb the dick in the corner. “What is that man’s name?”
“That? Charlie Heath.”
“Tell him to obey the instructions I give him.”
Cramer twisted his neck. “Here, Heath. Follow orders.”
“Thank you.” Wolfe regarded the dick, approaching. “Have you a car, Mr. Heath?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Take that envelope from Mr. Goodwin and put it in your pocket. No, your inside pocket. Take Miss Tormic in your car and drive –”
Neya was at him: “No! I don’t – I’m not going –”
“That will do,” Wolfe snapped. “You are going. I do this my way. Have you any cash with you?”
“But I won’t –”
“You will! Confound it, how much cash have you?”
“I … have a little.”
“How much?”
“A few dollars.”
“Archie, give Miss Tormic a hundred dollars.”
I produced the expense roll and peeled it off, making the roll look pretty sick, and handed it to her and she took it.
Wolfe said to the dick, “Drive to the corner of Fifth Avenue and 35th Street, let Miss Tormic out, give her the envelope, leave her there, and return straight here immediately. You are not to loiter to see what she does or which way she goes. Nor are you to communicate in any way with any other person, either going or returning.”
I said grimly, “Send Fred along or let me go.”
“Will that be necessary, Mr. Cramer?”
“No. I’m not a complete damn fool. Follow instructions, Heath.”
“Yes, sir. I take her to Fifth, drop her, give her the envelope, and come straight back.”
Wolfe nodded. “Will you do that?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good.” He turned. “Au revoir, Miss Tormic.”
“Ah,” she said. Her black eyes were piercing him. “You think so?”
“Well … a conjecture. It wouldn’t surprise me any.”
“You … you fat fool!”
“Yes, I’m fat. And of course we’re all fools. I’m sorry you won’t be here to see the end of this. A silly little victory, but it’s mine.”
“Victory!”
“Yes.”
Her lip curled. She turned and started off. I got to the door and opened it, but before she passed through she halted to fling back at him, “Teega mee bornie roosa,” or at least that was what it sounded like. Then she went on, don’t-touch-me all over, with the dick at her heels. I let them out, followed them into the November night air, and stood on the stoop to overlook the departure. As well as I could see in the dim light, the dick didn’t pass any signal to any colleague, and when they rolled off in the police car they certainly weren’t followed.
I stayed on the stoop long enough to be absolutely sure of that, knowing as I did the lengths a cop will sometimes go to on account of his passion for law and order, and was about to check it off and go back in when a big black town car rolled to the curb there below me. A chauffeur jumped out and opened the door, and touched his cap when one of the two men who emerged said something to him. They started up the steps, and I recrossed the threshold and turned to welcome two generations of Barretts. I asked them to wait there a minute and went to the office and told Wolfe:
“Father and son.”
“Bring them in.”
I did that. John P., who hadn’t changed his clothes, took the chair Neya had occupied. His face was all tightened up, and the glance that he shot first at Cramer and then at Wolfe was not what I would call conciliatory. I moved up another chair for Donald. He looked so fierce and truculent that I had a notion to go get him a hunk of raw meat. Nobody had seemed to have any inclination to shake hands like gentlemen.
Wolfe said, “Fred, wait in front.”
Fred went.
“Archie, take your notebook.”
I took it.
John P. asked, “Are you Police Inspector Cramer?”
“Yes, sir,” Cramer told him. “Of the Homicide Bureau.”
John P. said to Wolfe, “That’s ridiculous. This is a confidential business matter. And telling your man to take his notebook.”
Wolfe leaned back and pressed his five right finger tips against his five left ones. “No,” he said, “I wouldn’t call it ridiculous. Mr. Cramer’s presence is surely appropriate, since one of the things you’ll want to do is to try to arrange it so that your son will escape an indictment for first-degree murder.”